Dennis Dillon

Hidden Mine

a secret is

the sound of the very quiet approach

of the stealthy predator stalking a rabbit

in the bare fields of Texas.

or the sound of

fireworks exploding on the fourth of July

in the dead of night with an audience of many

and everyone is talking about it

a secret can

be hidden like the mine that has been buried

and is ready to tell all of its presence

in the dark noisy jungle of Vietnam

or it can be

as easy to see

as an albino among African Americans at a horse race

with a determined look, hoping that his bet pays off

a secret can be

as red as blood that covers a field where a battle has just been fought

while a lone soldier walks among the dead in the silence of night

looking for his friend, hoping that he made it out alive

or blue like

the sky up above

with a child looking up at it

wondering about all mysteries

a secret can be

kept like a small orphan

holding on to his father's watch

while he is being adopted

or thrown away

like the important resume of a stressed-out man

who is arguing with his wife in their house and a baby crying

while not paying attention the what he is throwing away

Haunting Memories

a dream can be

opened like a cold coke on a hot summers day

during a family barbecue, with everything normal

until a scream pierces the air because of a surprise

or closed like

a veteran's case of medals

to quiet the haunting memories of war

while in his bed, hoping to finally get sleep

a dream can be

as round as a snowball rolling down a hill

while little kids scream in joy and shock

as it explodes all over them during winter

or sharp like

a knife entering between a man's ribs

as a thief muffles his cries, and steals his valuables

under the darkness of a New York back ally

a dream can be

broken like a vase during an earthquake

while everyone is screaming in panic

in an exhibit in a L.A. museum

or fixed like

a mustang in the shop being repaired

while a mechanic wonders how it got full of bullet holes

and knows not to ask while his face is illuminated by sparks.

treasure your dreams

for when they die

life is a hopeless struggle

that no one can overcome

a poem should be

mysterious like a new kid

who will not talk at school

and keeps showing up with bruises

and silent like

the unheard but very real and frightening argument

with a drunken couple starting to hit each other

in an apartment while a frightened child hides

but most of all

a poem should be

as wordless as the gasp of a women

who sees her husband that was thought dead

and crying as her new husband walks into their house

Unexpected Days

time moves like a shark

underneath the vast blue sea

stopping and waiting for none

but it can be

as still as a peaceful lake

in the middle of a farm

surrounded by nature

time can be

as bright as the smile

of a man's daughter

before his execution

or dark like

the black car going to visit a mother who lives in the middle of nowhere

to tell her the sad news about how her son died, and to try and comfort her

because of carelessness on the government's part, and that they are sorry

time can be

as full as a stadium

packed full for the championship

to see the most interesting game in history

or empty like

the soul of a boy who can't think that it's true

who found out that his girlfriend is cheating

and is crying in the boys bathroom

time can be

lost like the adventurous boy

that has wandered off

and is surrounded by unfamiliar sights

or found like

the lost dog that has been lost for moths

while the owner has been fretting

and he pulls out the reward for the finder

time is a river of unexpected

twists and turns in the thing called life

time is a song that has

uncountable highs and lows

time is a play in which

i am the main character

asking the question

"what will you do with what you're given?"