-honestly...I have no clue why...-
As I began to rest in my fickle dream
Suddenly I was stirred from my sleep
I was greeted by many a whisker
And petulant snores from my sister
The cat mewed ferociously and purred
For there on the other side of the window—was a bird!
It chirped like a wobbly siren—the ass!
And I swear by my bosom it was pecking the glass
Suddenly, I sprang up in alarm
I swear my bosom was gone!
The cat then motioned at the feathered brat
For her bright breasts seemed extra fat
Of course it wouldn’t have been that
But I couldn’t just blame the cat!
I opened the window only a crack
And asked very kindly, “May I have my breasts back?”
Such pride she attained from my bosom
Yet why? –how would she use ‘em!?
The mockingbird merely turned a goodbye
But the stolen twins were too heavy to fly!
She plopped to the ground and squawked
I would have laughed, but I was shocked!
The cat scratched at the window and with her eyes
Said, “Prithee, take your breasts—she’s mine!”
Before I could think I had fallen to the ground
To a booming, most terrible sound!
My eyes then opened to a cat on my head
As the booming sound continued from my sister’s bed
im livin in a world, where all eyes on me.
trying to curve my own route.
but route 66 keeps finding its way to me.
ive been plenty sick, in all the events layed before me.
even when i reflect to my lowest points
i dont regret any of the choices
That I’ve deployed in my era
A lot of it by error, but hey
We live in hell conditions and there ain’t no air condition
Or any guidelines when life throws you in the sidelines
But when hindsight twenty twenty hits
You’ll begin to understand life’s a bunch of equations and you in the mix of it
An you’ll have to think twice, before running into a situation and becoming the best of it
it’s what got me here, it’s what got us here
Ran with my thoughts blazing up to her place and
Guess what happened next
She opened up heaven’s gate
And just before late I slipped out
I’m a Grown ass man
Doin his thing, waitin to blow up like an old land mine
In doin what he drools over
But time after time
Something decides to creep up and cover the light
Lost my way
Then I revoked to ever know, I ever thought that way
But in the in between time, that in the mean time
Spent a lot of time
Gettin pissed off just to medicate and lift off
Don’t need Don Perion to sip off
Already had my way with the bottle
Even thought to get back with the trouble and rejoin the hustle
That’s just what happens to a man who really knows his old ways
Whos tired of making ends meet and ponders getting back to the streets.
Memory sets in and he remembers an O.G. saying
No matter how tall your pockets stand when you ball
Eventually times gonna make you fall
And I as I pull myself together
I don’t wanna end up like the twin towers rubble
I mean no offence to nine eleven but at that time I probably could have used a reverend
But all that’s irrelevant now
because i live with a different perspective now
there you go you made it to the end :-) comment if you like, constructive criticism wanted as well.
Yet he lets bad things happen
How can he exist?
I had a Dream with Dragon in it, yes, just this morning, yes, today!
And the Dreams that linger, that I recall, are usually bad, I’m wont to say…
Haven't seen 'Day of The Trifids' in years. What I was thinking? Where’d I go wrong?
But as I was chased by marauding man-eating cactus… it suddenly turned into fun!
I thought of Dragon par broiling their great big bottoms, when Suddenly, there he was!
Now, I’d have fricasseed cactus for lunch, or at least, a more, peaceful, sleep or fun!
Then, enter stage left, marauding bikers…maybe not friendly… but handy… Come On!
They didn’t like the cactus either! Ker Splat! Take notes Dragon… Film at One.
To battle those marauding cacti… Dragon Got my brothers’ motorbike and off we went!
Dragon on the handlebars, blowing fire! Speeding! Yahoo! Didn’t see to turn. Ya Think!
Not with Terror Dragon in front. OOPS! Came to the hall end! Wouldn’t you know!
I put him in a sidecar, as we went to make this an adventure movie. Sure. Why Not?
Movie’s shaping up well, but with Dragon's food breaks, it won’t be done, before dark.
Go team Dragon! Hey! We're running out of cacti here! We need to get some more!
Hey Grandpa Troll! We need more cacti! Be a dear, and get us some? OPPPS!
The Supreme Leader of the Universe, my brother's here. He wants his bike. No doubt!
He’s looking at that sidecar I added, for sure! Pretty don’t you think, in pink?
Oh, just ignore his Dogs of War. They won’t attack, I hopefully implored!
But he WAS a bit put out, when Dragon borrowed his bike to ride, that other day!
Dragon DON”T get Huffy, the Supreme Leader can, too, travel in dreams, if he wants!
You’re big, but he’s Supreme Leader! Remorse, at taking his bike, would help, a lot!
Now you did it! Flaming his butt! Oh! Really? You were aiming at cacti sneaking up?
Gee thanks! Just hope he doesn’t notice the burn hole, in his fancy leather pants!
But having The Supreme Leader in our movie might just add, an extra special punch!
We should be his sidekicks, and when the movie’s over, it’ll be Taco Bell for lunch!
Dragon! Maybe you and I can lead, to singe off those nasty cactus needles, galore.
Our Great Supreme Leader'll kick their bottoms back to where they belong. For sure!
This hasn’t been, as bad a dream as most, I’ve gotta say. And we won! Hip! Hooray!
If we replant the cacti and water them when all is done, our GP rating might hold on!
Plus, if it’s named ‘The Supreme Leader + Dragon’, He says he will forgive…
And if you don’t use his motorcycle spokes for tooth picks… WHAT AGAIN!!!!
Hurry up! Put them back, Before he finds out! Hey I forgot, this is a dream… Think!
Yeah, I know, it’s a big stretch! But that did it! Thank Goodness, it’s done!
Amazing! We’d better say 'Bye, Bye dream' before more trouble comes… The End!
Wrote my dream woman on a blank piece of paper,
Said she was this, and this, enjoys this, and that,
And most important of all, she must laugh at my jokes.
(You see, my darling, I do them no justice)
Said list was long, but I found it acceptable and true,
It was, however, uncanny how it seemed to be you,
Fitting into the interlaced riddle of my specified peculiarities.
(The chicken and the egg conundrum thus begs itself)
Were you simply the fit, or were you, in fact, the mold?
Are you the dream realized, or did the dream just materialize
After having only gotten to actually know you in this life?
(I'm just going to take a shot at making you laugh)
How did the chicken go to the other side? It crossed
Knock knock! I'm the one who's there.
My dream woman, and you. Now, which came first?
(Psst... The answer's here, but I'm not telling you where)
The kids are gone! I'm retired! I'm gonna take a long vacation!
To an island with sunny beaches - that's my ultimate destination!
I'll spend the days savorin' a climate of seventy-two degrees,
Snoozin' beneath the palms, cooled by an ocean breeze!
Each morn as I stretch and yawn to meet another gorgeous day,
A glorious sunrise greets me from across the shimmerin' bay!
I release the worries and frustrations from my languid soul,
As upon the beautiful, sandy strand I take my mornin' stroll!
'Tis soothin' to the ear as the surf floods the pristine beach.
Beyond that, there is heard only the terns' occasional screech.
Sandpipers and sidlin' crabs entertain me scurryin' about.
I watch a ship cross the aqua sea, plyin' its leisurely route!
'Tis relaxin' to sip a rum swizzle when another day is done,
And just sit back to enjoy the grandeur of the settin' sun!
Later, as tho' emergin' from the sea, rises a brilliant moon,
And romantic music serenades me from across the far lagoon!
I'll have a lobster dinner, then to bed 'cause its gittin' late,,
Or maybe a dip in the surf, but hold on a minute! Wait!
Glidin' across the moonlit beach, somethin' makes my old eyes gleam!
A bikini-clad beauty...! Alas, the missus pokes me shatterin' my dream!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) All Rights Reserved
Your love pricks me like a rose each thorn grows but no one knows Your so full of
it as it shows so carry on now go on, go. I'm fed up with the phony and i'm
through with the tears, you couldn't pay me all your money to make up for those
years. Someone help me I feel faint how could I think he was such a saint and
worst of all I let me fall into a spiral down below. A magic called love carried
by the dove of someone I use to know.
we had hair
in the 1960s
where has it gone
love and peace
Oh lonely Inevitable Bear,
Padding claws, death in white
Sorrow in recurring nightmare
Instinct’s test; fight or flight?
Camouflage against the fence,
A challenge; my subconscious fear
Ominous slowly moving silence,
“Let me in, there’s a bear out here!”
If its money I got its money ill keep.
If its money I have its money ill weep.
If its love that I give its love ill receive.
For I am but no one who just see's beneath.
Some say your only as strong as you feel, but how could we change..in a place that's so unreal. People are hearing but..not really hearing. Why is the world so blind. I keep on screaming and screaming and screaming for things to be revolutionized. I am just a small song in a world full of cries, laughter, tears and french-fries.
Imagine if I possessed stunning good looks
Along with an adorable personality
I'd have to beat the ladies off with a stick
Love it if this was suddenly reality
Hollywood would continually be bugging me
To make millions from my glorious kisser
Certainly be renowned the whole world over
But dear Cathie, I'd surely miss her
I'd send for her as soon as I bought a mansion
Overlooking the beautiful blue sea
Would say farewell to my bevy of beauties
So honoured to have had a piece of me
This new cyber world allows for such musing
I could actually be of the opposite sex
Now I've really got you wondering haven't I
So you never know what to expect
Well I must confess I'm a ten year old genius
With a brain the size of a basketball
Eat gigabytes of data, morning, noon and night
And spit out gobs of wisdom to all
Imagine if I possessed stunning good looks
Dream on you old geezer, dream on
A major overhaul would certainly be necessary
And I don't think you've got that long
© Jack Ellison 2013
Pop may be catchy
But not lyrically deep
Case in point: Chris Brown.
(N.B. Poem written after hearing "Don't Wake Me Up")
Now it's common to dream about falling
From far in the sky high above
But to land in a lion's mouth opening
Why couldn't I fly like a dove?
Now appearing at work in the nude
In reality that would cause a strike
I'm afraid I'm the one who'd get sued
Wake up before you cause great fright
And then comes bizarre eroticism
With a person I never liked
My dreams, an out of control organism
Are my thoughts just wacko and psyched?
One night I was trapped in a church
With my wife who is not a bimbo
Bullets were fired, many fired back
By my wife, a female Rambo
So your dreams can be fun and exciting
While mine tend to be so absurd
As sun sets and sky turns to nighting
I hope no one gives me the bird
May 5th, 2013
For Russell's Dream Contest
A spider spun a silver web
in a mound of golden straw,
Then he hid himself inside the stack,
away from the wind so raw.
He yelled down to the sheep below
Who were trying to huddle close,
“It’s times like this that I wish there was
a fire for a mutton roast.
For winter had come upon the land
and his barn was deathly cold,
He wasn’t sure if he’d survive the night
if the truth of it were told.
He tried to dream a dream of hope
to get him through the night,
But he couldn’t bring himself to sleep
because of a blinding light.
A star was shinning down on them
as if the sun in mid-day glory,
The little spider had yet to learn
of the coming Christmas story.
Below was a ewe with her lamb
both snuggled up together,
Trying their best to keep warm
in the cold of the winter weather.
“I’d never trade places with you anyway,”
the mother sheep bleated out,
“Why are you so happy in your hate
to lend voice to pain and doubt?”
The light from heaven kept them awake
and staring in wide wonder,
When two weary travelers entered in
and the straw became their plunder.
The little spider became dislodged
as a nest of straw was piled,
And he could see that one of the travelers
was very great with child.
The three companions watched it all;
they’d never seen a human being born,
They were all surprised when at his birth
There came the peal of an angelic horn.
A herald’s call went out to all the land
announcing the newborn king,
And the spider and the ewe shared a laugh
to think of such a thing.
Because this baby was so very small
and his parents were so poor,
Yet there was something about this newborn child
that neither could ignore.
The spider looked down on the ewe
and said in a voice too bold,
“This baby needs to be swaddled now
to keep him from the cold.
Good ewe I can spin for him a cover
if you’ll allow me to use your fleece.”
So together they worked to swaddle the child
on this night of Holy peace.
The mother smiled at them all
as she took the blanket for her boy,
Then laid him in a manger poor
and they were overcome with joy.
The meaning of this wondrous event
was what made them all feel glad,
For they had brought the first gift to the Lord
by sharing what they had.
And the warmth, which they had provided the child,
also kept the three of them warm,
May the loving joy that they discovered
keep you this Christmas morn.
I had a good dream
I wanted to remember
Could not remember
Good dream so I thought
Took an internet dream course
My memory came
Somethings are best left alone
Scared me to death
long ago a lazy man lived in a village’s hut
he became poor because earning was shut
he was sleeping on his bed at one night
an old bag over his head hanging tight
dreaming that bag as a magic beans bag
with that he would win over all the bad days’ crag
with costly glittering diamonds that was full
to become a rich man he got a nice tool
at that time a rat cut down the bag’s rope
as the bag fell down he woke up and gone all hope
For Contest: Sponsored by PD
Written by: bldevnath
Date: on 7th January 2015
Ever wonder what a fish will think
Why the heck it doesn't blink
Could they ever send a wink
If they're too fat will it sink
Do all cats like fish...even a link
Howcome fish really stink
Is water to a fish considered a drink
If a fish bends too far will it get a kink
Why is it male fish are the pretty colors like pink
Do poisonous fish spit out ink
When fish move their lips is it them doing a lip-sink
To be a fish let's call him Dink
If the water's warm will a fish shrink
Want to be a fish...maybe I'll re-think
Is my life not tortured enough for you to see?
I am broken as can be.
My heart is torn.
My tears stain these perfect floors.
Why are singing with glee?
Why do you not care about my every plea?
I am trapped in your arms.
I am the hopeless moth.
How did you pick me?
What is it that you see?
A girl untouched by life?
A flower blooming in the desert?
I have said goodbye to my loving integrity.
You took that from me through R-A-P-E.
Sometimes I can literally feel the burn of silence.
It’s somewhere within my bones,
a blank slate made of heavy metal poisoning.
Perhaps if I cut deep enough, I can retrieve it
and find the inspiration needed to purpose
the lonely canvas I’ve sheltered for so long.
And with a marrow’d ink I’ll scribe the secrets
I’ve forgotten over years of mirrored eye
rolling and self propelled pity #$%*s.
Finally, I’ll be free to pool the ashes,
and build my castle of upside down day dreams,
and brightly lit nightmares.
I’ll call it “The Globe”,
and dress like Shakespeare would if he grew up in the 90’s,
and all my friends can help perform my drunkenly scrawled
screenplays that lead, inevitably to the death of “The System”
that we all helped create,
just so we could have something to destroy.
-James Kelley 2014, All rights reserved.
She visits in my dreams,
A place that I love to go,
For when my body is sleeping;
My subconscious starts to show.
She is not the same as when I’m awake,
She is fierce and unafraid;
She watches over the pillows,
Where my head is soundly laid.
She has wings just like an Angel,
Only hers are made of light;
With brilliant rainbow hues,
Enough to shine throughout the night.
To me she looks much older,
Maybe even wise;
One look at me and I know,
She can see right through my lies.
For her and I are one,
No hiding from the truth;
She understands that I’m growing,
Developing from my youth.
She never passes judgment,
For herself would be included;
Her thoughts are always brilliant;
And never convoluted.
I’m referring to my soul;
Aged throughout my lives.
She gives my words their meanings;
And my body is what she drives.
Inspiring my movements,
And wiping all of my tears;
Her voice is mine but rings through,
My head and out my ears.
Perhaps it’s her who is writing this,
Giving me the rhyme;
My subconscious and my consciousness;
Working together for all of time.
Although most won’t understand this,
That it is about a different part of me,
Tonight under the full-moon;
I’m setting my spirit free.
Allowed to dance in the stars,
And run across the sky;
Only to return to our body,
Suppressing her urge to fly.
Inventing a fountain pen that writes under whipped cream.
That’s what Moe and Larry were doing in Shemp’s dream.
Uncle Mortimer would not let Shemp pass through heaven’s gate.
Moe and Larry were being pretty bad boys as of late.
Uncle Mortimer sent Shemp back to earth to reform Larry and Moe.
Those were the rules. Otherwise, Shemp could not go.
Shemp then realized he had been smoking in bed.
It was all a crazy dream, and he was really not dead.
Based on the Three Stooges 1948 short “Heavenly Daze”
Drained to my very heart by our slow-paced arrival,
I wander through tasteless decor to the metal arches
Beyond which a future is unfurled.
My bag’s innards are spilled like blood in the Bible
Before the cold gaze of the armed man who marches;
He holds the key to this new world.
The mechanistic arch stands and takes quasi-sentience
Beside passport control, piercing my finely popped
Eardrums with sonic solemnity.
I am refused by technology but stagger forward hence
Into baggage claim where a suitcase pile is propped
Up like a holiday Tetris calamity.
My suitcase is soul black and with difficulty is found,
In its lucid eagerness to fasten itself a faux family;
Airports are filled with pretences.
Now we are away again, small trolley safe and sound,
On the road from snow, heat is where I plan to be.
Our intrepid journey commences...
I do not know?
I stumble from the cab of this ole truck,
To the sleeper where I lay.
My eyes close,I drift off to dream land,
And I awake to a sunny day.
I smell leather as its cent kisses the air,
I have a taste of gun smoke,
The sound of spurs clinging from a boot,
All the horses dust is so thick it could make you choke.
The smell of rot gut liquor,
The sound of a swinging saloon door.
The sliding of the glass as it sciffs across the bar,
The laughter from the second floor.
The meeting in the streets at twelve o'clock,
To see who had the fastest gun.
To the card tables where money lay,
An argument over who won.
Hand as quick as lighting,nerves of steel,
The two fourty-fours hangin on my side.
Well now I must wake up,put the six shooters away,
This big ole truck is the only horse I will ride.
Time to leave that dream land for another day,
Need to get this rig down the road.
I will return to dream land,to my western world,
But I really need the pay,so now I'll deliver the load.
I do not know?
The sun burned so bright
This morning, it was merely exposing
The clouds drifted away like white, puffy balloons
This afternoon, it was coming back together
Unveiling its extraordinary grace
Suddenly, the clouds turn black…
It was growing black as night
And it made me ponder:
Is change important?
And I shudder…
The rain showers might
This twilight, it was truly enthralling
Glance at it and its sparkling delight burns on
Seeing this in person
Is like earning a brownie or a sugar cookie!
This evening, it was arriving faster than
A cool cheetah running
Super fast in gracious fields…
Of golden grain and grass
It was glowing white as light
And it made me jump!
Is everything alright?
And I melt like butter
I do not know?
Good night dream cake…a taste of you is all I crave
Stave off this want and find your way to my lips
Sweet dream cake
The Dream Repeats
Since I was a small child, the dream repeats,
Working, running, always trying to get
somewhere, do something, see someone.
The situation always different and yet
the theme always the same..FRUSTRATION!
And why, I asked my friendly therapist,
Am I always in such a frantic state?
Why can't I dream of birds or handsome men?
His reply carefully crafted and noncommittal...
Low self esteem, trying to find some..
Trying to assuage some feelings of guilt...
Some unresolved issue with my mother..
......to much spicy food before bed...
The Dream of Self
Maybe I'll get an iPhone for my birthday
Ah...on the other hand, I'd like to get an iced coffee
Yeah - I'll just accept my water
Be honest, David - I'm a brat and a smarty pants
Enjoy your break time and kick back...chill for a time ...
I'm a little nervous - I feel that my writing's are
Not that impressive - maybe in May,
May I ask him for a free lemonade?
And yes - I get a free lemonade
Yes!! Maybe in May, I might get a part-time job or I might be a famous poet - someday...someday...
The Recurring Nightmare
By Elton Camp
Is this a dream that you’ve often had
That you went out too scantily clad?
But to that revolting social mistake
Nobody any notice ever seems to take
From what at malls and beach I see
That dream too often describes reality
I see one who’s dressed like Daisy Duke
The sight of her fat behind makes me puke
There’s a young man walking in the store
His pants sagging, shorts showing. Abhor!
Then comes a stout woman with midriff bare
To look at her why would anyone really care
Along strides an old woman dressed like a teen
Dress too short, low in front, far too much seen
Full-length mirrors must be in very short supply
If they looked at themselves they say, “Oh my!”
Waiting.... That's All I Ever Did.
I know I will soon,
But where is there? And how much time is left?
I Get There
And wonder where WHEN went.
There is Here....
Gone is Now....
And NEVER Leaves.
Waiting.... That's All I Ever Did.
Can't remember How I went, but
Then was There
And Time was sent
Up from Down... When there....I Went.
Waiting.... That's All I Ever Did.
And when I’m rich, I’ll have gold taps and teeth
a Harley, a Bentley, and a Cadillac too;
and I’ll pay three hookers to parade around the
kitchen, all morning, in the nude; it’s where I’m happiest
then in the afternoon, three ladies from the church will come,
to teach me about goodness, and how to cope without a drink
and a blowjob
and I’ll invite the establishment and the greens, in their faded
blue jeans, to Carnegie Hall; and I’ll sit at a table with a cold beer,
and a copy of Guns and Ammo, and I’ll stand up and say,
“OK, let’s have some fun, let’s write poetry, and if they couldn’t,
I’d tell them, “that’s OK, Haiku, Rhymes, or verse will do.”