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I have been working with Dreamku the past few weeks to learn more about my dreams and participate in an inspiring new Yahoo group started by Patricia Kelly aka Rosewila. These are the lines that I have come up with. Some describe my dream-art that is displayed on my Art Gallery web site. While the dreamku are unnamed, the art is. I have listed the names of the art above the Dreamku that was written for it. You may view the art called the Sojourn Series at VCW Original Photographic Art Gallery.

It you are interested in learning the craft of Dreamku, please visit .
Roswila's Dream and Poetry Realm.
Blog Address:

There is a link there if you would like to join. I have also added one below.
DREAMJIN: A Group for Dreamku, Haiku-Like Dream Poems.


These are still in transformation. I am hoping to get feedback on how to make some of them better. Just wanted to let it be known that this may not be their final form, yet I wanted to post them with this edition of My Window.

I open my eyes 
light escapes into matter
too much to see

here or there 
growing into each other
dreaming the dreamer

an angel's arms
offering through the clouds 
my path unfolding

thoughts pour from her hair
turning mist into stone
wishes fabricate

the face changes
unashamed she bares herself
telling the story

through glory clouds
she views the world afar
perspective evolves

beautifully twisted
nature remembers one
who seeks the truth

discarding its flesh 
bone turns into a mere mask 
floating in trance

stardust whispers
space pollen sketches
an upturned face


fumbling fingers search
garment tags allocate
a new world order

three cartoon dogs
in a helium balloon
coming down too fast

they gave the mother a shot
three months before birth
just born, he sits up

three ink blot doors
each one closer to me
a man passes behind

(This last one on the ink blots has an image to go with it that is still in progress)

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Dreamku Series

the house looks normal
stranded in the suburbs
three flat tires

three sides and a roof
the back open to the woods
a campfire within

a junkyard outside
the house is filled with spare parts
the man is tidy

I like him at first
quick witted conversation
but just with himself

not knowing I hear
he mumbles about cravings
human flesh smells good

over the fire
he swirls grease in a pan
eyeing my fat thighs

he's a mechanic
offers to fix my flats
invites me for lunch

he doesn't suspect
I can read him like a book
tricking my way out

my car still can't roll
but my fat legs can run
I don't stay for lunch