A Ghost Flame

This dream that I had

Was all that I planned

And now it’s buried

Head in the sand

Like a headless man

He’ll do what he can

The headless man

Can’t seem to understand

That the dream didn’t bleed

It didn’t sink

It lingers still

A smoldering tower of coals 

Sits deep in his soul . . .

This dream

Was all that I had planned

And it died before I could fly

It hovers over my grave

A ghost flame 

Illuminating the dash between years lived 

This dream

Was all that I had

During the storms

During the pandemics

During the the poverty

During the pain

This dream was all I held on to

And now

It’s dead

Or

Just about dead

Almost dead

Pretty damn close to dead

I’ll smoke weed and drink

So these dead dreams don’t rot in my head

Let’s kill some brain cells

So this head doesn’t feel like hell 

In the darkest pit

The wind dances with the coals

And the flame

Is resurrected 

This muse was all that he had

And it does not extinguish easily 

Life's a trip

When you realize that any one of these days

You could fall in love

Or die

Or have a kid

Or get sick

Or write a poem

Or read an eulogy 

Life's a trip

When you realize that

Anything could happen to you today

Anything at all

And almost all of it

Will be out of your control

This dream that I had,

It was all that I planned . . .

-CH 4/16/25