Tag Archives: dreams



If the Statue of Liberty could talk,

What would she say to citizens today?

She might say, “I would not give the keys to my heart

To everyone by capricious whim.

There are those I would keep out,

And those I would invite in.

I would open the doors each day

And smile at those who come to work or pray,

An island greeting those who are ready to share,

The opportunities and love discovered here.

Those who come with bigotry and hate

And those who haven’t learned to celebrate


I would ask them to wait.

My land is home for the weary, a place of hope,

A place they can adjust and learn to cope,

A place to shake fear from timid heart,

Leaving violence behind and getting a new start.

The keys to my heart would only be given

To those with new lives to begin.

This country was founded on blood, grit, and tears.

On that basis I have lasted for years.

To those who are here to prey

And steal all precious dreams away,

There should not be left any doubt.

I would select many to come in,

But there are those I would keep out.”

August 4, 2017


If I could see my dogs
In the middle of dreams
chasing rabbits,
their paws racing in air
turning corners with care
they run and run,
and I laugh as I watch.
I wonder if they watch as I sleep,
when my dreams go deep,
While I run and run
Do dogs laugh at me
Or do they smile
and shake their heads knowingly?
MAY 9, 2017


Angels bring me ideas and guidance,
Dreams about things I want to hear,
And dreams about events still to appear,
Mind boggling, or catastrophic,
Warning me to avoid places or people,
Where events will be out of control.
Some things are shouted or blasted by horn,
Others are whispered in the early morn.
Should I be like Noah, laughed at and scorned?
A man crying in the wilderness, tattered and torn?
I like dreams that speak of prosperity and love,
But I listen to all that are sent from above.


A slur is a small word from a small mind,
Usually leaving kindness and love
In the distance far behind.
Slur is not a proud word
It isn’t used for giving praise,
But to strike down bridges of peace and love,
And to destroy the dreams we raise.


Lightning flashed and thunder roared,
I fell to my knees and prayed.
My life was changed before my eyes,
My options could not be weighed.
All my life I had claimed control,
And I could have once again,
But I knew I would be lying to all,
My protests would be in vain.
Her love was too strong to resist,
Its power more violent than any storm,
Each kiss shook me to my very roots,
And I’m sure she meant no harm.
Yet before she turned my heart free,
She warned her blood would melt ice.
“Be careful to keep our love alive,
Even small dreams will suffice.”
I forgot promises I made to her,
She was out of sight and out of mind.
I laughed with others and had my fun,
There was no one there to remind.
But a strange storm brewed one night,
It hurled everything directly at me,
The winds howled, then grew deathly quiet,
Like a coward I fell to a bended knee.
Trembling I asked to kiss her hand,
But afraid to look her in the eye.
She forgave me for reckless love
After her long heartfelt cry.
Should I tremble ever again,
Because I have pierced her heart,
Then I will live forever in pain,
Knowing I didn’t do my part.
Each year we pledge our love anew
Our passionate kisses melt the ice.
We’re careful to keep our love anew,
Even small dreams will suffice.

Fame was not to be

Part one.


When I first started writing I thought this was the life I wanted to have, inspiration and love, sweat and tears, ink smeared on my face, and a shirt that looked like a writer’s shirt. My dream came true, except I also wanted to be rich and famous.

Life did not come in smooth ink strokes or placid days. It came roaring in, full of color and excitement. Friends and enemies were easily described but hard to disguise, and if I knew them well they often appeared in dreams for good or bad. I worried about that at first but as my imagination grew and my writing improved I found they were valuable as characters.

I learned with each passing day I had to keep building relationships. If I ignored my characters they got all huffy and disappeared or just watched from the wings without participating in stories about my life. The most interesting friends or enemies sometimes grew too large and dominated the action. They had to be split into two or three because on paper they seemed unreal if they took on too many roles.  Besides, I wanted to be the star of my own show.

When I wrote my three small paperback books, Devils or Angels (the collection), Wag Your Tail, and Ramon’s World: Beyond the Edge of Reality, I experimented going from poetry to prose, writing about people and animals, and enjoying giving people challenges to solve.





As a small child I had wonderful dreams,

Dreams of making the world a better place.

Where those of a different race

Could put on a happy face

And mean it.

But violence was raising its head

Threatening to turn all streets red.

In 1956 the beginning of storms,

Those made by nature

And those produced by human nature

Had caught up with us.

The storms of both kinds

Were carried by winds, sudden and swift.

“Separate but equal” was the slogan

That stirred the fomenting mixture

And pushed the races toward inevitable clashes.

In the summer of 1956 grandpa died,

In a faraway magical land of fruits, nuts, and Hollywood stars.

To pay our respects we packed into cars

Travelling over vast deserts and against the heat

In three days we arrived, dusty and beat.

After the funeral life was reconsidered,

And my parents decided to live in a small town

far from the hot steamy nights

That brought our family to the San Joaquin valley

Away from the green grass and red clay

Away from arguments regarding race and moral decay,

Away from crappie and muddy catfish lakes

Over the Tehachapi mountains

To the arid desert climate of the valley.

I was amused by the bridges that stretched

Over dry stream beds that begged for water

and signs that read, “Dangerous when flooded.”,

“Avoid High Water”, or “Flash Flood Area.”

The concept of dry rivers seemed like an oxymoron.

My pronunciation of words began to change.

The southern drawl was under fire.

‘Pin’, ‘Pen’, ‘Pan” had different meanings

And I was expected to distinguish between them.

Vocabulary was slightly changed also to appease.

‘You all’ or ‘yawl’ became ‘you guys’ to please

The California trend setters.

‘Duck tails’, ‘crew cuts’, ‘flat tops’,

Hair dos and clothing fads,

Taken to the max,

Governor Faubus with his axe,

‘Hot rods’, cars with numbers or letters like GTO,

Movie stars or singers, each had a claim to fame

James Dean, Buddy Holly, Ricky Valens,

Became icons almost overnight

But when tragedies struck i finally learned their names.

Vietnam, the undeclared war,

Became a festering sore,

Splitting our country apart

There were those who said it made no sense

While some claimed, “It was a decision from the heart.”

JFK, Robert, MLK, all gunned down

Leaving holes in the fabric of society

Sports, school, moments when the country stood still

And lost its innocence and beauty,

Along with that it lost some pride

And much of the sense of duty.

‘Woodstock’, weed, hair styles, peace and rage

Marked the dawning of a new age.

The ‘baby boomers’ took front stage.

The dreams of making the world

A better place

Took a different pace.

Now we’re old and not so bold,

Asking questions about our dreams and goals.

Did my generation follow the quest

To make a difference to become the best

Or was it all just hype?

Maybe we’re not the type

To teach the world to sing

Or to bring love to each heart.

Discrimination still exists but I hope inroads

Have been made.

My dreams from youth won’t fade

I will hold the banner high

Cancerous cells will shrivel and die

And love, sweet love, will once again

Rule heavens and earth.


April 24, 2016 by Dan Roberson