Richard Lighthouse

Grocery Aisle

in my dream of you
dreaming of me,
i am more wonderful than
myself.  or so it seems.

tossing thru nights like
tumbled bowling pins, and 
grocery carts
abandoned.

in your new dream,
i am a new me.  shiny, 
polished, & packaged.
selling on the discount aisle.

your cart full of has-beens
and why-nots.  and no, i am
not on your weekly 
list.

but seeming a bargain -
tossed in, checked out, &
bagged.
take me home.


© 2008 Richard Lighthouse

House Signs

houses sing to you
while driving past.   
buy me.
rent me.  i'm yours.

these are homes 
un wanted.  places not
owning anyone.  rampant
in begging, please.  now.

cash in that long promise.
ink your desire in 
scribbled name.
your need can live in this yard.

i will call you home
from work each evening.
bring me your body's weight.
lay under my shingles of love.

even the rain
won't find you here.


© 2008 Richard Lighthouse

Dear Lover

say something surreal, honey.
tell me how i fill
the moon's aura and airily glide
inches above this earth.

speak to me impossibly, darling.
fill my soul with whimsy words
that cut thru the hazy
madness of monday.

charm me with nevers, sugar.
i will dance on the crystal lake
of forever now. then sing me to 
lullabye sleep.

i am your impossible.  your surreal.
your now.  your never.  

dear lover.


© 2008 Richard Lighthouse

Smoking Sanity

she tries on masks each evening, with a bottle of wine.
the chain smoke circling her head like a gentle fog. her long white gloves tipping at the ash tray. 
every envious suitor has a tale from that strange night.  scratching at the brink of sanity, 
where age does not matter, where cold bones rise rest less.

she is that, and more.  dark.  lurid.  leaning into the wind.  

some nights she will call to her suitors, long after they've left.  
madness is unique for each tenant, wouldn't you say?  slowly devouring what others recall.  
"pass me another cigarette," she would say.  "i think i'm losing my mind."


© 2008 Richard Lighthouse