Just before he’s 70, just before seven
on the greyest of February mornings
he encounters his Dreamsong Janey
at the Predawn Café.
……………………………………….He lets her
levitate him into his morning pages;
lets her eradicate all of his desires
–even for his morning coffee,
even for His Beloved (still in bed,
dreaming he’s still there, asleep,
dreaming of sleeping beside her).
But his imaginary wings are only
borrowed and insubstantial. Janey’s
dreamsong fades.
…………………………………Before he can fully
and finally float away, he remembers
his flesh, recalls his agenda, and realizes
there’s yet another day ahead; a day to
try his endurance; a day during which
there will be no dreamsongs sung,
no other sounds worth hearing.
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dVerse Poets Pub
Open Link Night
~ OLN #283 ~
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Scrambled, Not Fried 
Aaah, morning pages … once a daily ritual … now fond memory of an era I otherwise gladly abandoned for marriage! Now my pages and I come together at odd hours when interference subsides.
Like the notion of naming you’ve demonstrated!
The very hard reality, another day to face….the dreamscape disappears and we trudge into reality, eyes wide open and sometimes with a grimace – sometimes with a determined smile – sometimes with resignation..
“he remembers
his flesh, recalls his agenda, and realizes
there’s yet another day ahead; a day to
try his endurance; “
It sounds like staying in bed is more desirable really… I do read my morning papers, but my beloved and I do the same…
..and here I thought of ‘Janey’s Got a Gun.’ And wondered why.
Very effective and poignant piece Rob – we’ve all been there!
Ah, but those daydreams can be so enticing.
Ohh morning pages! I used to do that a long time ago, but time led me to other things. 🙂 This is a gorgeous poem, Ron.
It is a gorgeous poem, Ron, with a Celtic touch, a light hearted romp through hypnogogic mists and caffeine bitch slaps. An fun read, sir.
Oh the power of dreaming and you really capture the contrast and how his existence has to be endured day to day.
The drudgery of reality can never compete with those perfect dreams. I like how you describe them as being better than morning coffee, that’s saying something!
Poems like this make getting out of bed, facing another day of isolation … bearable.
So beautiful and poignant. Reality is hard to wake up to at times.
well done, such a quality dream and then the slap of reality ..
haha at first I thought Janey was Mary Jane (Marijuana) especially when I read ‘levitate him’ !
Those dreams can be so powerful!
I’m with Jay, took me a moment, thought you were smoking something, haha! I need coffee after this poem, I’m always half gone it seems.