The moon like glowing amethyst
Peaks through the window pain,
As a dream IÕve dreamt a thousand times
Creeps back into my brain.

And in my dream IÕm not myself
But who I long to be,
And in the darkness I embrace
His false identity.

But dreams are things, I soon recall
When morning breaks my sleep,
Like humming birds and promises –
To hold and not to keep.



I mend my wounds with poison oak
(The past is looking grim)
When youÕve burned all of your bridges
You learn quickly how to swim



I donÕt remember what I did last night
Or exactly what I said.
I donÕt know where I left my keys
Or whoÕs lying in my bed.

I donÕt remember calling you
To say just how I feel.
I canÕt quite tell the difference
Between whatÕs imagined and whatÕs real.

I donÕt remember walking home,
I donÕt know where IÕm from.
I donÕt know how I got here
Or the reason that IÕve come.

I donÕt remember how to end a poem...



IÕve kissed far more people
Than IÕve slept with,
And IÕve slept with more people
Than IÕve loved,
And IÕve loved far more people
Than IÕve been in love with,
Because IÕve only ever been
In love with you.


the dawn

You strip away my tattered clothes
As I melt into your bed.
ÒI can see your naked soulÓ
Says your voice inside my head.

You dissect me like a scalpel blade,
Your lips are anesthetic.
Suddenly, this brittle heart
Is oddly energetic.

You deconstruct my conciseness,
Unravel every thread.
ÒIÕll meet you on the astral planeÓ
Says your voice inside my head.

So, I chase you into outer space
Past Jupiter and Mars.
Your eyes are burning meteors,
(Or are they falling stars?)

Then, through the prism I emerge
A morning shade of red.
ÒLetÕs do this again some timeÓ
Says your voice inside my head.

© Kirk Bueckert