poems about dreams

I stayed too long in dreams
so much the day seems flat
and one dimension;
in my mind, the sander
still polishes the leg
of the man who said
“the body always feels pain”
as sawdust coats my throat
too much for words;
a crystal-blue rain falls
with wicked gold lightening
against the wide horizon
somewhere along I-90 in South Dakota,
an angel floating in the back seat
laughs at what we forgot to say,
urges me to Drive! Drive! Drive!
as if I am escaping something;
all the while my mind ticks,
like a clock pacing time,
thinking how to slip you a note
handwritten that says 808.81
and nothing more,
you’re the Sherlock Holmes,
you figure it out;
all these years,
the conversations in my head
and you, deaf and blind or
just resigned to dreams
like me, this morning,
wasting days away
before the knives cut out pieces of me
again, remember?
Like the last time you were here,
the both of us relieved to hear
“she made it.”

Trapped (Dream 012524)

I was trapped in a house of the past
where staircases appeared
twisting to nowhere
and rooms were puzzle games,

where I walked through
old conversations
and emerged in the present,
my foreign reflection
in a hall of faceless mirrors,

the scenes of people
I used to know
still in their old spaces
were so real I could touch
the pencil he held in his hand
at the desk he used to write from

but only she
only she
was my only constant

broadcasting into rooms
to show me the way
with an urgent regard
so as not to get trapped there

hurried me to dress
and gather my things
as if the house were on fire

as if my insistence to stay
would alter a future
I still have no heart to imagine.

Photo by Pawek on Pexels. Poem ©2024, Jen Payne. If you like this poem, you can read similar in my books and zines, available from Three Chairs Publishing on my ETSY SHOP. They come autographed, with gratitude and a small gift. .