The Tyrant Is Dead Poem by Richard Wlodarski
The Tyrant Is Dead
Rating: ★5.0
I had a dream
In which you and I
Kissed the president
A final good-bye
We were holding hands
Walking on the beach
Sand in our toes
Kissing the still wind
He was experiencing
Such atrocious nightmares
Full moon beckoning
To werewolves within
We christened the moon
He woke soaked in blood
Cuba lay on the horizon
Satan's damned hell welcomed him home
Sunday, April 24, 2022
Topic(s) of this poem: lessons of life,tyrant,dream,nightmares
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7/18/2025 6:35:59 PM # 1.0.0
Richard, that poem had a dream-like quality so gauzy and ethereal and then it slid eerily close to a nightmare and then ebbed away--like waves washing into the shore then ebbing away----well done! ! ! top scores and faved
Susan, I always love reading your commentary. It's always succintly in-depth and insightful. I sincerely appreciate the time and thought that you put into your comments. And yes, you're right on the money with this one. I've had a few of these kinds of dreams. And they are fascinating!