Thoughts on a Future Grief

image of a rock in the sea
Small rock off the Horn of Ramsness, Fetlar by Mike Pennington



Is it strange to enumerate what we have
By knowing what we are missing?

Do the contents of emptiness somehow form a container for what exists?Where in the void can it be found, that list?

Is it in a rock rising suddenly from under a wave?
Does it live in the step missed while traveling downwards?
The drop of water that escapes the glass
Slides downward to fall
Disappearing on summer concrete?

Perhaps it is in the flail of limbs in that moment
You find yourself in the nothing while sleeping.

Is it strange to enumerate what we are missing
By what we have?

When we count our blessings
Is a shadow list formed as we write
Mirroring the lines in lemon juice
Seen only by the heat of our tears?

Bad Dream


When I met you I was happy

You seemed like the answer to my prayer

My one and only True Love

A dream beyond compare

Then you smiled like a viper

And your fangs bit into me

You’re a nightmare in the daytime

You’re just a bad, bad dream.


When our love car’s wheels came off

You went right for the nearest wall

Without any hesitation

You put your foot right to the floor

You left me in the wreckage

In the middle of a scream

You’re a nightmare in the daytime

You’re just a bad, bad dream.


How fast can a dream become a scream?

You’re a nightmare in the daytime

You’re just a bad, bad dream.


Now I stumble like a zombie

Looking everywhere for brains

I drink bottomless cups of coffee

Feel like I’m circling the drain

You were never ever what you seemed

You’re a nightmare in the daytime

You’re just a bad, bad dream.


How fast can a dream become a scream?

You’re a nightmare in the daytime

You’re just a bad, bad dream.