Diaries

Penned elations scrawled in fancy’s lines

and dipped into a caffeine well

come during the first tick of the time clock’s clarion call

when freedom is stapled to a form

stuffed in an outbox,

waiting for messenger with a miracle

that is imprisoned in a memo’s paper jail.

 

Posting the cerebral collage

of exits taken by the head

upon a wall of the travel agency

whose location in preserved on a scroll

kept in that drawer were screams die.

 

Parades of knights, fairies and sirens

drift in their apparition presence

across the tapestry of reveries

hung in the mind

and viewed each time

the anvils of demand

pound their melancholy melody

upon the desk that is a cell

with passes granted for weekends.

 

Scripting the present

in that journal nobody is allowed to read,

where the cavalcade of paradise glimpses

and passion’s phantom paramours

passes on the mental meadows

expressed as the muffled sighs

over the places one wishes were home.

 

Surviving by sipping that black nectar

of morning’s revival

as the elixir that lets the images of what eludes

keep one alive during hours

one’s heart is mortgaged to reality’s keeper.