Confessed passion

I have to confess, I have a passion,
for the theatre. It is attended every
evening, every night of the week, and
I never tire of the performances.
There are occasional lapses in dialogue,
a hesitation for affect, but then
the stage comes alive with known
characters, apostles of what was, is
and will be. When morning dawns,
the stage lights have been turned out.
The actors safely tucked in their beds
resting for the next evening stage
call. There is no need to practice
lines, the audience of one is always
forgiving, appreciative of each emoted
posture or devilish burlesque kick.
No marquee sizzles and blinks, only
a subtle nod, a fluttering of eyes,
the ringmaster and playwrite are
are one in the same; “Ladies and
gentlemen, let the dream begin.”

©2014, Donald Harbour

Pounding on the door of dawn

Morpheus, Phantasos and Iris, by Pierre-Narcisse Guérin, 1811 God of dreams

how does one know
they are truly awake
is it physical awareness
the sensation of being
is life a reality or
a temporal construct
a cloning of vision
thrust into the open mouth
of a screaming newborn
are we part of a Matrix
life forces harvested
sucked from our bodies
existing for an alien
indifferent satisfaction
somewhere between awakening
and sleep lies the truth
that one infinitesimal moment
when dreaming a breath or
actually taking one
pulls us into this world
yanking us from oblivion
some never wake-up to life
in that deep forever sleep
will we dream we are awake
or be satisfied to sleep
in the arms of eternity
my encapsulated self yells
pounding on the door of dawn
I thrive for morning wakefulness
treasuring the early hours
thankful that I have survived
to enjoy one more day in this
marvelous fantastic life.

©2011  Donald Harbour

A date with Marilyn

For MM. Thank you God!

For MM. Thank you God!

The italicized words in this piece are quotations attributed to Marilyn Monroe.

I have begun to wonder if it was
only a dream or did it really happen?
My date with Marilyn Monroe!
When I met her at the door
she took my breath away.
I said: “You look fantastic tonight!”
Responding with a pout:
“The body is meant to be seen,
not all covered up.”

I certainly liked the way she
composed her thinking.
I told her I enjoy her talent!
She said:
“A career is wonderful, but
you can’t curl up with it on a cold night.”

It was definitely cold outside.
“You act so well, I love your pictures.”
She snuggled up on my couch:
“Being a sex symbol is a heavy load to carry,
especially when one is tired,
hurt and bewildered.”

“My gosh,” I thought to myself, “here I am to help!”
She traced a finger around my ear saying:
“I’m very definitely a woman,
and I enjoy it.”

There are those moments
when the nexus of love and passion
converge to a single point,
expanding in a supernova
to flame away all reason.
Reason took a long vacation.
She blew me a kiss:
“Sex is part of nature,
I go along with nature.”

This is where the dream gets tricky,
as in reality, some things are best left
to imagination.
Just before the date ended,
she turned to me and said:
“It’s all make believe, isn’t it?”
I pondered the question for a moment saying:
“I suppose, but dreams can come true.”
Marilyn smiled that famous
drowsy smile, walking out of my dream
into wakefulness I heard her say:
“I wanna be loved by you,
just you, nobody else but you.
I wanna be loved by you alo-o-one.
Boop boop e doo.”

I’m spending a lot more time
perfecting sleeping and dreaming.

Copywrite: 2009, Donald Harbour