January 29, 1994

“What do you want?” I’d ask

there were castles to the left
seven in a row along the banks
mystical dragon-infested and dwarf-crawling forests
protected by six-and-a-half ninjas
drawbridges crossed fire spewing moats filled with nuclear lava
across the green countryside there were beds of roses scented and red
further out to sea there were cruise liners
with pools of chlorinated water for swimming pleasure
further still there was an open expanse of stars
galaxies and planets with mammoth castles and cathedrals seven in a row
protected by multi-appendaged ninjas six and a half
with nothing on their minds
money was growing glistening in the trees
two stars shimmered through the thick atmosphere
red and peaceful like Mars but moreso
there were rose petals lining every cloud stretching to the horizon

you stood there in the mist wondering why wondering how
never thinking twice about the possibilities
there was blackness everything was equal and you were on top of it all
trees howled and frightened you
images of sharp teeth of sharks as they swam in the dark thick atmosphere
they bumped against you to bring you to a heaving gasp for fresh air
waters now beneath your feet would shoot cold spikes of nails
longitudinally through your fragile torso
all the lights of the universe disappeared
for the sole purpose of reflecting the radiant redness
of rose-colored clouds that drifted by
like fleets of plankton in the oceans of Earth
you wondered why this was why this must have been
what you were dreaming of
but never realized never cared never took the chance never wanted to
never you just never looked at the possibilities

I wrote these images drifting through my mind at night dark hours
until all the lights of the universe were lit again
you would be there wondering on some distant planet
wondering why and where you were going
found yourself lost in the imagination of your own
the world dimmed to a sweet shade of reddish pinkish melancholy warm
sweet and soft and romantic only if you should wonder about such things
the possibility that you have all the possibilities
I write and wonder there hypothetically next to you
as pseudo-friends would on a cold lonely day when the world’s all dead
and trees have all but withered away
your hair always reflects images hiding within the confines of romance
you would never have known because you were on the inside all the time
looking out over nothing like sympathy
motherlike to some and being hurt yourself by the cultural images
of women “in their own place” and how women “should remain there”
while you all the while would be nothing more than yourself
I’d admire you for it but you’d live only as you should
never knowingly take on an extreme definition of the world itself

it would come to an end and I’d ask what you wanted
and you’d be silent for a moment then say something for once
then things would actually begin to happen
your life would begin as would mine with the dawn of humanity
shades of red that accent the warmest of roses
roses line the warm and soft clouds dancing in the heavens of some planet
distant in space distant in time whichever both have their meaning
Jupiter may become a second star
like the one that shines majestically over the green hills
laced with beds of roses which sprung up naturally from the fertile soil
for the purpose of reflecting the radiance of your unique red hair
wisping in the gentle breeze
from a lake somewhere in the rural areas of the states
from the water-dense atmosphere
where nothing but multi-colored tropical fish roam in between the trees

you stand there commanding the world with your eyes
staring beyond the horizon
realizing the mistakes you made and the mistakes that could be corrected
the world is at your fingertips awaiting commands of your imagination
you begin to reform the world around correcting mistakes of years gone by
on some distantly located planet thousands of years in the future
or perhaps the past as the present is when you can only read this
wonder what it is that I’m thinking of
wondering what I’m writing wondering what more I could possibly write
to excite to bore or simply to amuse and nothing more
with words pouring forth like thousands of phoenixes from the heart of me
lit afire by months of strife and pain sorrow regret and confusion

mistakes made were covered up by the passage of the sun
from horizon to horizon over which you will one day travel to find  truth
where the ground is currently slipping out from under your comprehension
the streets are paved with rose petals under you and no one else
cars and trains slip and slide with buildings rising from the depths of this place
only to destroy or merely to alter the perception of this
so as to misplace my concentration while you read and wonder what this is
you realize that it’s about everything that ever was said and yet nothing
nothing in the present nothing but the act of reading and wondering

now there must be something done
this is why I have a real indication of a laugh coming on
only in the distance where I can see myself over the horizon
then a sudden pain

remorse and tears begin to flood the plains where you stand
the guilt of causing havoc destruction and pain onto you is what hurt me most
tears of salt begin to enshroud the whole of my reality
in a blink of your penetrating eye my reality is destroyed

what remains are castles
standing on the banks of green hills
laced with sweet beds of roses
that flourished in the ground where my body was buried
some time in the future or perhaps a very long time ago it does not matter
for all the roses were all the time for you.