Fragments Of A Dream Long Forgotten Revisited

Fragments Of A Dream Long Forgotten 

An old man remembers a dream he had as a boy.

One day he thought back through time and 

A dream about a fine and beautiful place.

fragments of a beautiful stained glass 

Upon contemplating the memory, the man realizes,

window of untold beauty began to

that for fifty years he has

slowly reassemble itself piece by  

searched for the place of his dream.

piece until the   

He was never sure the place existed.

window became   

Now he sees its golden glow on the

whole once again and the 

near horizon and he is

structure and the 

walking toward the glow and he yearns to

meaning captured within the 

be there.  But a forest with a beast lies between the man and the

reassembled window became 

golden place.  He wonders if he should

clear and its meaning formed a 

go through the forest or

magnificent and 

postpone finding the place he has dreamed of

great, intricate, light filled 

all his life.

complex thought. 

The One Named Joey


There is one named Joey who pulls himself around by his feet, his head lolled back in his moving chair …


like a hunched man who never sees the sky he stares at the ceiling never seeing the floor …


his body is a wreck … it’s bent like an S … there’s crusty paste on his perpetually open mouth … his yellow teeth look  like the slats of a picket fence … his palsied fingers clutch some invisible rope … his legs are spindles from a broken stairwell …


how could they ever carry his wracked frame?


he can peripherate his vision from side to side but people appear flat and oblong … their colors and shapes merge with the surfaces surrounding him or, they rotate like colored balloons speaking words and thoughts … giving him their feelings …


but, among the others he is the best, the most beautiful  …  if you can see below the surface …

Light shines from his eyes,

he beckons for touch,

he thrives on a warm affectionate voice …

he gives strange excitation in return …

he seeks faces above him …

he squints with pleasure,

his eyes crinkle with smile …

his palsied hands move like a spastic toy monkey crashing cymbals …

he groans in pleasure

with each heartfelt exchange …

he will never complain because his condition seems as normal to him as yours and mine seem to you            and me …


his world is an exclusive creation shared with no other person … but if he could paint or sculpt or write … we would experience unknown sensation and insight into another world as unique and creative as a Picasso Picasso painting, a Shakespearean sonnet or light captured by the first Sugimoto photograph …


he lives in the alpha/omega suite of creativity as an artist of total singularity …


his world is his own unique creation taken from what he was given when he was born into the world …

And he is my



Facing the Beast Within

images-1 copy 14

He walked onto the field and 

stood alone … to face death and

tame the rage within … a sacrifice to end 

the burden of his fury and 

fear …


the death he faced was a living death 

defined within the limits of fur and teeth, claw, 

muscle and sinew … the ancient knowledge of strength,

ultimate power, the need to kill, the innate drive for blood of a 

striped cat …


the cat crouched low to the ground,

eyes narrowed ears pointed

toward him …


the surrounding air vibrated with 

the luring purr of 

death  …


the cat suddenly arched through the air a 

blur of light its hypnotic eyes 

fixed upon him they

absorbed his image they drew him into oblivion …

its single minded intent 

to capture, kill and 

absorb his 

life …


he dropped like a rag doll within its grasp 

helpless and overwhelmed the only sound a 

chorus of drumbeats coursing within his

heart, his lungs his

brain  …


the beast’s breathing measured and sure … a blend of confident superiority and 

cold calculated purpose sounded deep within its 

throat …


the world became a tumbling mixture of 

bright light, green grass, soft blue 

movement, grains of sand, white fur, yellow and black, 

small rocks floating by points of teeth slurred in slow 

motion …


beyond thought, beyond mind’s will 

he lay subservient, cowed and 

taken …


he emerged transformed  … 

driven by courage he

freed himself from the rage and fury that 

lived within … a sacrifice to Death for the 

sake of Life … the beast within finally

destroyed …