PERFECTION KNOWS NOT THE UNKNOWN November 6, 1986
This poem was the result of a very strange and detailed dream that I managed to take notes about upon waking. I don't fully understand it, but some of the images were definitely things revolving in my life.
Garden view, deep racks of momentary pleasure
Separation of the vegetables and the minerals
Set on fire, poisoned souls can only hope for cures
Allegiance to destruction, a month away
We exited agony on Friday afternoon, we walked the plank
We swam underwater races settled by cameras
Escaped to lonely solitude out in the wilderness
Array of forgiveness inside the hearts of trees
Asleep
Rains from the mountains follow wonderous paths
To heaven's mansion deeply enriched by shallow rivers
Blind and motionless, weeds destroy and hide the rocks around
Valley roads driven daily connect vacations
Dreams from behind the office door, the dashboard, and the driveway
Cottage from old time cinema, stolen ideas from writers past
Thoughts expressive, gone from the soul are loads of due dates
File drawers forgotten, no combinations to office restroom doors
Friday evening only fishing line and flypoles
Groceries, fireplaces, oriental rugs, companions
Glowing fire, birch logs, incense, northwoods
Seclusion drawn away from eyes, staring minds
Experience the good life
Staring down at the beer bottle with glazed eyes and bruised mind
Chopping down pine trees with butter knives
A story of my life
Energy endless, released and alright
Ghost story, bed story, no story is good
Sleepless traveler, incredible mood
Paradise ambiguous, confused and consoled
An evening to grow up, mature and get old
Morning conquers nightmares, ragged and fatigued
Speedboats and dewdrops, smokeless smells of fires gone by
Breakfast devoured by nine, flypoles and red squirrels
feast on previous night scraps
Life jackets, no jackets, cold mid morning frozen
Motor boat flying by stumps and pelicans
Dancing the waves, ballet and jazz
Tap dancing speedboats, open lake plan
Boat wake unwinding, halibut schemes
Aware of surroundings and forgotten vague dreams
The fisherman's weekend began with a cast
Bobber serene in the lake's peaceful grasp
Hat pulled down, feet dangling gently in the frigid currents
of God's deepest water
The cottage of love is alive
Vacationers flex and laugh and rejoice
Dishes and flashlights, solitaire and rest
Saturday mid morning, work gone, undressed
Never before were they this much in love
Him in the fishnet, her waiting by the door
Honeymoon lovenest, oceans of somber worry
Without him, alone, want him back in a hurry
The cottage of cedar previews advanced life
Beauty of forests surrounded by light
(A deer ran gently away from the door into the forest of the great unknown)
Walleye and Northern, perch and the rest
Waters generous to the young and the eager
So proud was the novice as he picked up his mate
Loving eyes met him, she beautified the pier
Two in a boat, treasure island
Campfire, no fire, darkness and cold
Left on a island of silver and gold
Platinum dreams and millionaire love
and more night of Heaven before Monday ruins charms
Cuddled and held, loved and caressed
Living out the night as if it were the last
Unaware of any hatred, occupations, shady pasts
United as one, related to the world
Owls sing, bells ring, fireworks and everything
(The loon whistled gently in the solemn bay echoing to the bleak unknown)
The roosters crow the Sunday dawn
Bright and lovely, sunny good morning
Open flame abides by the laws of the land
Foxes staring at the glowing blue eyes of wisdom
Barely a ripple in the mountain lake
Barely a wind whistles the blankets folded
Maybe the desk back home is cluttered with grievance
Maybe the files overflow, they don't know
Wonder if they missed us if we never returned
Ah, the idea! Noble indeed!
Work on the land, live on the land
Wine to abundance, love til the end
Cozy cabin, safe and warm, holds them and controls them
The boat speeds toward the new shore
Undeniable, forgotten responsibility
Boat leaves a breadcrumb wake that doesn't destroy the palace
How many homes do they churn
How much success have they earned
How many bridges have they burned
(The winged horse flies and is alarmed at the approach of the dark unknown)
Crimson and dead, smoky filled future
Flames engulf the dream filled illusion
Mirage and image, image mirage
The stepped off the pier onto the charred remains
Tears cannot remove the smoky glare
Enemies of arson, torched reality
Future of romance, drowned in flames
Irony, surrounded by water
But burned anyway
Charcoal darkened shoes, iron skillet, the wedding bouquet
Lying untouched in the field of decay
But the wedding portrait that once enshrined all
Is singed, scorched, crisp and lost to all
Just as the romance ends and the future bends
Tears and walls are built
And they drive away from shame and ruin
(The eagle soars and circles and remains trenched in the firm unknown)
Deadlines, due dates, work without pay
A honeymoon dreamtime, if just for a day
Cottage and speedboat, island decay
Once holding hands and now walking away