A Penchant For Dreams Poem by Bernard Kennedy

When he left the garden with his feminine
side, from his rib, Adam tried his penchant
for dreams. Into the world from the forest,
past the clearing, that overlooks the city.
And dwelling there he dreamed of that garden,
from the city built from his dream,
awaiting the dream, no longer just manifest
but manifesto, a dream of longing. A clash
of dreams by comparison, a fancy filled wish.
Both of expectation, and waiting, but of yesteryear-
a dream interpretation.
The golden calf made promise but drained the energy,
to dream, and its wasteland product showed how hollow,
that was.
And Homer, his sea journey, no different from that
garden, through the clearing, in search for more,
was like the rainbows pot of gold, but a statuette calf.
And when he voted his dream arose again, but yet a dream,
and when its expression became fact the dream realized
that search was just that,
a search, the journey, the ever relentless desire,
the dream, awaiting latent content.

Desire, the spring coil of man,
purveyor of the golden search,
needing Ariadnes' thread,
first for Theseus but then Dionsyus,
through desires labyrinth,
caught in the dream in the maze.
Or like Sisyphus, climbing,
his Croagh Patrick.
Man the purveyor of this search,
with a penchant for dreams.
And only desire is the ball of wool
that threads the dream to satisfaction.