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Metaphor Dream Poems | Metaphor Poems About Dream

These Metaphor Dream poems are examples of Metaphor poems about Dream. These are the best examples of Metaphor Dream poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Sonnet | |

Love's Alchemy is Eternal

Love’s Alchemy is Eternal

Your look, touch, and scent now so perfect pure,
Enchants my true emotions and soaring passion.
I knoweth now our love shall always endure,
As God unites our souls as one by divine action!

Our sensual passion defines love’s spirit entire,
As we caress and kiss for this moment’s bliss.
Love’s alchemy maketh our spirits soar afire,
As we embrace our lips find that deepest kiss!

Our hearts beat now in a sacred tempo of love,
That reflects our real destiny, two souls as one.
This is God’s gift to us from Heaven high above,
As we wish these magic moments of eternal fun!

By Heaven, I pray our love’s alchemy forever,
And declareth my love shan’t leave you ever!    
 
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved,
June 27, 2016 (Shakespearean Sonnet)

Copyright © Gary Bateman | Year Posted 2016

Details | Verse | |

Sand Castle De Mal

~Sand Castle De Mal~

Beauty sails along the shores of life
Out there broken dreams form above sand dunes
Silent, God listens to the triumph of his creation



3-14-2015
3 line verse

Copyright © SKAT A | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse | |

Frozen Howl

Inside a knowledge turning cogs on this wheel
born from the darkness a heart rules supreme
fear in one wish looking towards tunnel light love
All that will remain when all turns to dust threads of life dance
kneeling weak alone humble and meek finding a balance

Weeping rivers flow haunting sea waves turn the key
truth is something beautiful touching deeply chords
Chilling whispers rise warm oasis warmly embraces hold
creeping inside beauty beams within shadows 
Dancing starlight kissing ocean reflections twinkle
sparkle glisten teardrops coldly ripple out

Floating on a cloud of breath precious beauty
a mystery that means something special 
finest mother of pearl gem coloring rainbow jewel shines forever
Frozen dew quicksilver lining echoes time answers always
cold as ice crystals dazzling diamond stillness pure 

Frosted vision clear cutting ivory white one cool snowflake falls
baptism in regal glowing crowning full face splendor enchants a ball
walking along golden strands looking across the sea midnight strikes
Sleepless nights held over and back destiny calls your name
utopia faraway dreaming our love complete


Copyright © liam mcdaid | Year Posted 2015

Details | Narrative | |

The Old Dark House

The Old Dark House

This tale of “The Old Dark House” is one that’s replete with a
most horrid sense of pure evil and macabre, and is worth being
retold each year during the deep-dark hours of All Hallows’ Eve
before the chime of midnight, when the thin veil separating the
land of the living and the dead momentarily dissolves, bringing
both worlds together until the break of dawn.

Beware of this house’s mythical and ethereal presence in the
shadow dreams of the innocent, and be forewarned to never
conjure its image in your unconscious mind. If so conjured,
The Old Dark House shall become an unending reality to the
innocent and uninformed, and on All Hallows’ Eve, the evil
“Demons of Hell” shall come for your very soul!  

The Old Dark House is one that is bathed and cursed in utter
hellfire and damnation by Lucifer himself. It’s one that creeps a
chill and frozen reminder into the very frame of its nasty, putrid
structure. It shall guarantee you the worst possible nightmares as
your very soul cries in agony and pleads unrelentingly for mercy!

Your nightmares are, in turn, amplified and born into the very
structure of this house with ivy creeping as you palpably sense
the wretched ice-cold fingers of Hell opening the doors to the
cavernous basement were evil shadows of goblins, ghosts,
ghouls, vampires, and werewolves parade openly from past lives.

Everyone suffering the curse of the damned was captured here
when they visited, becoming prisoners to the darkness of true evil,
far away from the light, goodness, and eternal mercy of Almighty
God Himself.

Six generations of my family actually dwelled beneath the rafters
of The Old Dark House where demonic forces were constantly in
play—as hot sparks burned the tongues of lost souls who cried in
agony, and their world would enter the vortex of darkness whilst
blood-curdling screams could be distinctly heard during the night
on All Hallows’ Eve. Ghostly images would appear out of nowhere
supported by the frightening ferocity of Lucifer who is the true dark
presence and ultimate tempter of mankind!

The horror I felt as a young boy trapped in this existence is truly
unimaginable. The image of The Old Dark House still haunts my
adult consciousness, even today, as I would shudder in the cold
night-sweat of sleep to purge its eternal presence from my mind!

Cruel pictures adorn the hell-hole hall of imagination as a gruesome
and unbelievable power underneath wields its vice-grip of hideous
words, whispering in the coldest of ice without the living being able
to breathe in a cloud of mercy and forgiveness, within an ancient
language of evil and evil-doings that twist the shape of words to
suit one’s human fears and cold shivers!

I still don’t understand the full measure of things being lost in this
dark pit of Hell in The Old Dark House. It’s a place that’s devoid
of human meaning and worth as shrunken heads are disembodied!
I hold on to what remains of a past shame, hovering high in the air
as unclean spirits of a crooked vision-circle wander aimlessly as a
Blind Sheppard leads our lost souls to the depressing Dark Land of
Nowhere and Nothingness!

Every October as the full moon rises high in the dark-sky evening,
a ritual fire is set by a local coven of witches to celebrate the advent
of All Hallows’ Eve. These witches know well the power and evil of
The Old Dark House. Their burnt offerings and black magic spells
echo hauntingly as Hell’s own fury is unearthed, challenging all
things virtuous in mankind’s existence and in God’s world of beauty,
hope, kindness, and light.

These evil images of black magic and witchcraft haunted my sleep
entire. I couldn’t sleep at all before dawn. I constantly sense now
an awakening madness in my soul, as if it comes from hidden graves
yet to be uncovered. Images and bad memories of The Old Dark House
push me now toward the opening of unknown tombs. I can actually
now smell Death’s Sulphur-burnt flesh!

Doors begin to rustle behind me as I hear loud footsteps of a pin
echoing deep in my mind. The echo shatters any illusions I have
of human sanity and forgiveness. I feel the sheer horror and begin
suffocating as the stale air is trapped in each breath I take!  

I sit up now—immediately confused, looking directly at a lonely
and empty Black Void that goes on and on and on—to infinity!

Cell doors in the house basement were always closed tight with
rusted iron links bound by heavy chains. As a poor child alone in
this house with other condemned children, there were nice rooms
upstairs that were always barred and shut to us as we suffered in
the filthy basement below. In Lucifer’s Hell!

I recall now too, in my memory, a gallery of special portraits in
The Old Dark House, which formed a ghastly mosaic of pure evil.
These portraits were of key human disciples of Lucifer who had served
him well through the ages. All of these images were grotesque and evil
when taken as a whole.

What did I learn? Evil is what Evil is! And Evil does what Evil does!

I’m free now from the eternal curse of The Old Dark House. I escaped
this mansion of the macabre as a young man and found my soul path
to Almighty God and stepped into His holy light of forgiveness and
redemption! 

As a very old man now, I sleep and dream a lot. Usually my dreams, 
thank goodness, are pleasant as I draw toward the end of my mortal
existence here on earth.

Yet, despite all the good things in my life now, during October of
each year, as All Hallows’ Eve cometh closer in the deep recesses
of my mind—I remember clearly that the ground floor of The Old
Dark House always had these frigid-cold wind gusts that spoke 
chillingly to one’s very soul. As young kids we would run upstairs
in this evil house to hear the “Demons of the Night” moan and cry!

Old Hob always had a way to speak to all of us as kids in His House!

Anne-Lise Andresen, Liam McDaid, and Gary Bateman
A Collaborated Poem, Copyright © All Rights Reserved
September 7, 2016 (Narrative)

Copyright © Gary Bateman | Year Posted 2016

Details | Terza Rima | |

The Moon, The Swan, The Rose

The Moon, The Swan, The Rose

I see an enchanted image that you’ve never dreamed of
With reflections twinkling while dancing on wave drops
Of a dreamy blue lake that is a mirror of one white swan

A dancing beauty with a pureness that blesses this water
She floats like a princess with such an elegance and grace
As splendor ripples through a lens of her divine existence
 
A canvas painting as one masterpiece beyond compare
As the moonlight manifests a sweet rose in my dreams
Beautiful to desire now that nothing shall be disturbed

Within a frozen memory a brilliant diamond illuminates
As the full moon’s image enters the depths of her soul
And a sad, certain loneliness leaves her spirit exhausted

Arising before my eyes on the wings of angels I see all 
Clearly now with an excited, fluttering magical heartbeat 
Believe me—that this eternal blue sky is incredibly real

With a golden orb of light colors reflecting so exquisitely
Now as majestic images of God’s Heaven appear above
I see His very image of the Moon, the Swan, and the Rose

Anne-Lise Andresen, Gary Bateman, and Liam McDaid
A Collaborated Poem, Copyright © All Rights Reserved
September 2, 2015 (Unrhymed Tercet)

Copyright © Gary Bateman | Year Posted 2015

Details | Narrative | |

- The Demons Shrill Cry of Dread and Horror -

The Demon’s Shrill Cry of Dread and Horror

This tale of “The Demon’s Shrill Cry of Dread and Horror”
lives on in the mountain village of Gpeth Tor in the outlying 
region of the “Dark Forbidden Forest” known for evil, death,
and lost souls. This tale passeth from generation to generation,
to the present, and still frightens all people who hear its grim
message as it sends an icy-cold chill that stabs the heart of one’s
holy eternal soul!

A young boy who just turned six years heard this tale so told
by both of his parents who shivered with a great palpable fear.
Their story of the Devil’s Demon of the Dark Forbidden Forest
mesmerized this young lad, giving him gruesome nightmares,
whereby the Devil’s Demon whispers cruelly to him in the 
darkest corners of his mind and in his deepest moments of sleep!

The young boy’s recurring nightmares show him running each
night deep into the darkness of the Forbidden Forest while both 
shouting and screaming his desire to see and to serve this foul
Demon of the Wild, while forsaking Almighty God in his thoughts!
This ghastly dream world each night is like morphine to his brain,
as this young boy suffers, feeling the chains of its merciless torment!

But this story of the boy is now 22 years ago as he’s progressed on
to manhood—driven to the very depths of depravity and insanity
as he witnesses nightly in his padded cell the evil actions of both
Ghouls and Ghosts who’d open up the graves of past rotting souls.
This insane young man now sings paeans with a fulsome alacrity
as he celebrates the shrill and haughty cry of the Devil’s Demon!

Does anyone really believe in happy fairy tales when Hell itself
corrupts the mind and spirit of the young and unsuspecting?

Does anyone believe a young fairy princess who kisses a frog
and says that the frog is now a dashing, noble prince?

Does anyone really understand and believe there are real monsters
who roam the maze of one’s mind crying now into a dark abyss,
while Goblins and Ghosts float freely robbing the living of breath?

The Dark Forbidden Forest of this evil lore does indeed exist, and
it lives freely in the dreams of young village children so frightened 
and terrified by the dark-demonic-visage of a bile-black-blooded 
Bogeyman who resurrects himself nightly in their true dreams of a 
sweet innocence in the place where scars are born every waking day,
as the lid of terror is lifted open, spewing legends and tales of the
macabre stealing the very life-force of heartbeats leading to Death! 

The local people of this legend in the village of Gpeth Tor speaketh 
freely of shrunken heads in large glass jars deep in the bowels of the
Forbidden Forest, where the threshold of pain and absolute madness
knows no bounds of moderation, and tortured beings and lost souls
cry out loudly as the Dark One takes his due while the broken bones
of those who remain are crossed—weighted so heavy like an anchor!

Invisible and evil forces at the Devil’s command have taken control
of the Forbidden Forest, where nasty beasts with a rabid blood thirst
for torture live in the very cells of the chained and forgotten souls who 
have lost their way to Almighty God and His Angels in Heaven above.

Grotesque stories still abound to the present time in this century of the
perverse and maledictory nature of this dark forest that borders so close
to the ancient village of Gpeth Tor—of what can happen to those who
dare to speak of the unspeakable, as Specters of the Undead feast upon 
the heartbeats of innocent victims until they are fully consumed, and
their souls are condemned to an unending damnation and agony!

It’s been so many years since I graced my presence again in this ancient
“Village of the Damned.” Mea Culpa! Forgive me! A difficult journey!
I’ve now lost my way into the light and to the holy path to God Himself.

Gpeth Tor and its people live on into this twenty-first century as it is.
The frightful memories and presence of the Forbidden Forest are real,
and are still devouring the very living thoughts and ideals of the young.
Many moons later the sacrilege of this reality still lurks and crawls now
beneath one’s own human flesh as the divine answers to “God’s Truth”
lay, locked far away in the depths of Lucifer’s Kingdom here on Earth!


Gary Bateman, Anne-Lise Andresen, and Liam McDaid
A Collaborated Poem, Copyright © All Rights Reserved
August 20, 2016 (Gary)
September 10, 2016 (Anne-Lise)

Copyright © Sunshine Smile | Year Posted 2016

Details | Narrative | |

The Demon's Shrill Cry of Dread and Horror

The Demon’s Shrill Cry of Dread and Horror

This tale of “The Demon’s Shrill Cry of Dread and Horror”
lives on in the mountain village of Gpeth Tor in the outlying 
region of the “Dark Forbidden Forest” known for evil, death,
and lost souls. This tale passeth from generation to generation,
to the present, and still frightens all people who hear its grim
message as it sends an icy-cold chill that stabs the heart of one’s
holy eternal soul!

A young boy who just turned six years heard this tale so told
by both of his parents who shivered with a great palpable fear.
Their story of the Devil’s Demon of the Dark Forbidden Forest
mesmerized this young lad, giving him gruesome nightmares,
whereby the Devil’s Demon whispers cruelly to him in the 
darkest corners of his mind and in his deepest moments of sleep!

The young boy’s recurring nightmares show him running each
night deep into the darkness of the Forbidden Forest while both 
shouting and screaming his desire to see and to serve this foul
Demon of the Wild, while forsaking Almighty God in his thoughts!
This ghastly dream world each night is like morphine to his brain,
as this young boy suffers, feeling the chains of its merciless torment!

But this story of the boy is now 22 years ago as he’s progressed on
to manhood—driven to the very depths of depravity and insanity
as he witnesses nightly in his padded cell the evil actions of both
Ghouls and Ghosts who’d open up the graves of past rotting souls.
This insane young man now sings paeans with a fulsome alacrity
as he celebrates the shrill and haughty cry of the Devil’s Demon!

Does anyone really believe in happy fairy tales when Hell itself
corrupts the mind and spirit of the young and unsuspecting?

Does anyone believe a young fairy princess who kisses a frog
and says that the frog is now a dashing, noble prince?

Does anyone really understand and believe there are real monsters
who roam the maze of one’s mind crying now into a dark abyss,
while Goblins and Ghosts float freely robbing the living of breath?

The Dark Forbidden Forest of this evil lore does indeed exist, and
it lives freely in the dreams of young village children so frightened 
and terrified by the dark-demonic-visage of a bile-black-blooded 
Bogeyman who resurrects himself nightly in their true dreams of a 
sweet innocence in the place where scars are born every waking day,
as the lid of terror is lifted open, spewing legends and tales of the
macabre stealing the very life-force of heartbeats leading to Death! 

The local people of this legend in the village of Gpeth Tor speaketh 
freely of shrunken heads in large glass jars deep in the bowels of the
Forbidden Forest, where the threshold of pain and absolute madness
knows no bounds of moderation, and tortured beings and lost souls
cry out loudly as the Dark One takes his due while the broken bones
of those who remain are crossed—weighted so heavy like an anchor!

Invisible and evil forces at the Devil’s command have taken control
of the Forbidden Forest, where nasty beasts with a rabid blood thirst
for torture live in the very cells of the chained and forgotten souls who 
have lost their way to Almighty God and His Angels in Heaven above.

Grotesque stories still abound to the present time in this century of the
perverse and maledictory nature of this dark forest that borders so close
to the ancient village of Gpeth Tor—of what can happen to those who
dare to speak of the unspeakable, as Specters of the Undead feast upon 
the heartbeats of innocent victims until they are fully consumed, and
their souls are condemned to an unending damnation and agony!

It’s been so many years since I graced my presence again in this ancient
“Village of the Damned.” Mea Culpa! Forgive me! A difficult journey!
I’ve now lost my way into the light and to the holy path to God Himself.

Gpeth Tor and its people live on into this twenty-first century as it is.
The frightful memories and presence of the Forbidden Forest are real,
and are still devouring the very living thoughts and ideals of the young.
Many moons later the sacrilege of this reality still lurks and crawls now
beneath one’s own human flesh as the divine answers to “God’s Truth”
lay, locked far away in the depths of Lucifer’s Kingdom here on Earth!

Gary Bateman, Anne-Lise Andresen, and Liam McDaid
A Collaborated Poem, Copyright © All Rights Reserved
August 20, 2016 (Narrative)

Copyright © Gary Bateman | Year Posted 2016

Details | Shape | |

FASCINATION

It was him, and immediately I felt the very moment he too, saw me as I entered the room. I averted my eyes, seemingly not magnetized, yet his form continued to caress the corner of my eyes. My entire body was so attuned to his every movement, I sighed. Suffused with such warmth was I, knowing he was looking at me…alone. I tried to turn away, but felt the searing heat where his eyes touched my skin. I realized I was hypnotized, mesmerized by the power of intense attraction. Minutes passed by, I would catch again his eyes, staring, brooding. Overwhelmed by his presence, I felt such effervescence. Senses wired to all that was him, I was exulted to know that his eyes were as glued to me as mine were to him. Nobody, no one else. Him and only him. He moved, the second I floated to him. I stopped, time to catch my breath. Him whose strides came quickly to my side. Such panther’s grace, eyes holding my stare, he smiled. The wineglass in my hand trembled, serene not I, far from calm. Suffused with much warmth was I, knowing he was looking at me…alone. I turned away, and felt the searing heat where his eyes just touched my skin. Hand on my elbow, he silently led me to where the crowds were, to dance . Such arrogance, I thought I’ve had enough as a child, of dominance. Yet I, surprised, felt the rush of liquid fire through my veins with his large hand, warm and steady on my bare back. Alive were all nerve ending, as we went dancing through the night, I heard the loud sound of the wild beating of my heart. Suddenly…I was jarred, and from a dream, woke up I.
Kim Patrice Nunez DREAMS CONTEST - 10 th Place SPONSOR: ROB CARMACK 23 April 2015

Copyright © KP Nunez | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse | |

Haunted

A hole in the head shooting pain trembles
nightshades coldly down the spine
a soul lost in the land of the living
carried away in darkness
flying inside dark clouds holding just a dream

Distant thunder roars lightening splitting cracks
sure as the crow flies crawling opens Hell's gates
dark jewels of the night
charred remains churning in a cauldron
boiling goodness tears of thoughts

Piercing screams spawning nightmares
holding a promise once made
walking in a valley amongst the dead
shadows now smile hearing animals scream
as the moon plays silver dancing light

Dreams snatched away from reality
the crow calls echoes in silence
victims of this world howling over and back
tragedy cries in their pain and suffering
eyes seeking light
whispers through the branches
a heather bleat creature of the night calls

Haunted by humans chained to the earth
awaiting shadows and sunsets 
a cursed banshee wails supernatural screams 
from everywhere and nowhere

Mind numbing winds passing through
a white silhouette shredded shroud
around a heart entombed
in agonies' twilight shades clouds darken
storms brewed stirring specters chase the wind

Cold rains become lost tears
the willow weeps in eternal sorrows
a lament for the dead
as the silver crescent moon smiles goodbye

Blends in clear as day after sunrise
forgotten in a valley of unrest
death bell's toll out from the past
onyx feathered crows call painful cries

Forever seeking heaven's gate now sealed
that promised choice was lost ages ago
only burning Hell fires
or cold earthworms await




Written by: Liam McDaid & Kelly Deschler

Copyright © liam mcdaid | Year Posted 2015

Details | Couplet | |

Natures Beauty

Sunshine beams sparkles softly golden magic 
Breathtaking horizon of dreams spells casting 

Feelings, faces and memories within 
Shall follow the nature´s endless spin 

Creeping higher morning glory rising perfect splendor 
Smiling warm rays inside hot radiance glows 

Dizzy with pleasure, tears a falling star rain wet drop of heaven 
Total silence no vibration pearls on leaves dried 

Songbirds sing praise in a heavenly choir whistling tunes 
Enchanting dewdrops sparkling shivers, silver glistens 

Diamond shining clearly colors beauty awakening 
Rainbow riches polishing a heart to the highest luster 

Into a landscape of dreams and hope 
The green grass will grow for another tomorrow 


A co write written by Liam Mcdaid 
and Anne-Lise Andresen :) - 12.01.2015 - 
- Thank you anne lise 

Copyright © liam mcdaid | Year Posted 2015

Details | Alliteration | |

THE LAST DAYS

The days seem to go by so fast. there is a void in the air, the birds have lost their vibrant beat, the ocean has lost its luster, the soil feels solid and dry.
 
My soul feels as if it has left my body before my death, my dreams haunt my day, the tears stain my steps, my doctor says that it is depression, I say that it is reality, I am intoxicated by society,I am numb by perscriptions.
 
Why do I feel so isolated within myself? is there no one in my painfully tight shoes? can anyone understand my pain? can anyone melt in my sorrows? why am I this way? why is the world so cruel? why can't I be normal?
 
Wait! I am normal, what am I saying, I know now, the veil has been lifted, humanity is my enemy, the sins that drip from their sweat, the dread that follows their shadows, their souls of black, their intentions of greed pull a shade across their eyes.
 
They are destined for doom, they will not be saved, they will not find salvation, they belittle me, they curse me, they shame me, but they are right about one thing, I am different, unlike them, I will be saved in the last days.

Copyright © stephanie hanvey | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

- Life Behind The Mirror -

Enchanting chambers made of glass 
Breaking reflections shatter falling into ruin
The history behind the tears and sorrow of a heart
Fragile echoes inside truth broken always sings 
If this be loves beauty like dropping crystals splash
Speaks a language of one thousand tongues when the sparks fly
 
The soul released from thought 
Faraway shadows cover a dream
When you have found what you're looking for
And always breathe in the beauty of nature
Silver buds glisten in morning dew 

Millions of years before you or me
Weeping willow hangs heavy over us 
These things and so many more
have made you and me understand
Blossoming sunshine shades golden 
Crowned kissed by love in the summer  rain 

What a beauty to wake up to birdsong
Carried on gentle winds when they sigh
Hearing screams from the raven far up in the mountains
Secrets of the water flowing whispers 
Our lives have a meaning here on this earth
Stars circle your space in another realm 
Thoughts and dreams put together as mosaic
A moon smiles as shadows dances to a joyous tune 
The smell of pine needles tickle in the nose
As a sun lights our footsteps with golden harmony 
Commitment strong and sense of purpose is the key to life
 



13.05.2015
Written by L. Mcdaid & A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved

Copyright © liam mcdaid | Year Posted 2015

Details | Couplet | |

Snow White

Oh darling you have become an angel sweetheart blossoming regal crowns
one flake unique floating into dreams so beautiful they sing only you

Pure petal wings flutter dressed in the color of snow purest kiss of beauty
They dance particles ice inside warm love melts shining into the purest thoughts

A faraway star winking in the night sky neon grasps breathless 
Confetti crystals falling sprinkles gently laying a carpet upon the ground 

Whom embraces the outer body sweetly enchants I open four chambers 
holding all keys out applauding flutters skipping echo pops each beat

My queen warmly holds hands with the soul grace of a thousand swans in flight
Once bitten twice shy one kiss from you smitten I would say smiling overjoyed 

I will always smile in loves amazing grace in soft gentle tenderness the joy it brings
Wishing that one was holding you right now footsteps in deep sand begins touching 

Wow mirror, mirror what a dream baby who blew one out off this world spinning 
you're so beautiful smiling these eyes dazzling mirror reflections blinding

Copyright © liam mcdaid | Year Posted 2015

Details | Rhyme | |

A Soul Awakened

She is the muse to her own sorrow; She is the digger of her grave. She is the painter of her ocean view and every fatal wave. She is the shadow of her Father; She is the darkness in your sight. She is the night without the stars surrounding pale moonlight. She is the music with no words; She is sweet love without the reason. She is your dreamer with submission cold by warmth with every season. She is your pet with cold intentions; She is your baby scared and shaken. She is the bold and pure- the lost and found, She is a soul awakened.

Copyright © Dana Smith | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

Twigs

Twigs

Flowers bloom
And flowers wilt.
Flowers blush
And flowers fade.
The eternity is only in me-
The twig that bears the flowers.

Sparrows are born
And sparrows die.
Sparrows fly
And brighten the sky.
That who nurtures sparrows is me-
A cozy make of a twig upon a twig.

The sun fades
And moon is born.
The twilight blurs
And moonlight spreads.
All the soothing moonlight beams are me-
A crisscross of unfathomed twigs.

Whether in its birth
Or in its death;
In the heart
Of its heart;
The entire beauty is none but one-
A design of mysterious twigs.

Copyright © Suyash Saxena | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

- Dancing Notes For Love -

Kissing deep beats fluttering dancing on a breathless whisper 
A snowdrop falls on the lips melt slowly kiss you beautiful 
The whisper of your voice, the warmth of your kiss and touch 
If love is to be true not even a kiss can tear us apart 

Warmly held under the moon smiling beams brightly shining 
Love is not a game of the heart where the truth is preserved 
Loving an angel flying grace inside lit up one of a thousand stars 
In silence stars twinkle but in the distance we overhear the ocean plays its song 

Magical sprinkling all stardust trails confetti sparkles flashing 
I look into your eyes your heart and your soul like a ray of sunlight 
Silver reflections casting shadows out enchants winks spotlights a dream 
The stars would shower me with stardust of your smile 

Written by Liam Mc Daid & A-L Andresen 30.03.2015 Copyright © All Rights Reserved

Copyright © liam mcdaid | Year Posted 2015

Details | Quatrain | |

Grow

A dream can grow in the darkest places,
even when others lay shattered and dead,
no matter how long and twisted the roots,
dreams can still grow when tears are shed.

It will flower out of the muddy ground,
no matter how impossible it may seem,
and vine and wind around the stoney paths,
as it flourishes to chase the sunbeam.

A dream can grow from almost anywhere,
stunted only by what imagination can feed,
the vision becomes planted deep in the mind,
and will live when your heart is the seed.



Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse | |

Groundswell Girl - Named by JB

Enter a storybook tale
Where I can be 
The heroine you hail
Lucid dreams of soft reflection
A touch heated with lust and desired protection
A breathe a gasp as we succeed 
Join the fairytale with me
Valiant night within dark eyes
the right movement and I make them shine
like moonlight on the steamy hot spring
care to follow for a little dip with me
Trailing like the water at my fingertips
Grasp me around my hips
As close as the breeze on my skin 
Whisper lies as I let you in 
Lips mumbling up my thighs
bare heart exposed to the sky 
fire burning in my veins
Am I a mistress of this lust or simply a slave
Trembling with desire
Take me till we've lost count of the hours
enter this storybook tale
Where I can be the heroine you hail

Copyright © Jay Loveless | Year Posted 2012

Details | Free verse | |

Stuff I Wonder

What does it feel like to wake up into your skin?
Your day?
What do you feel first most days?
Is it in any way influenced by gratitude,
or totally given over to worry,
anxiety about your shortness of time?
 
Is this life the one you had in mind as a child?
When did this that you do to fill your days and years become your dream?
Or is it your nightmare?
Or something in between?
If so, which parts are closest to your dream
and what were you doing
with whom and why
as this became your dream?
Were these relationships good dream mentors for you?

How did you get to this day, this place, this vocation?
When did your nightmare start
and is it something more than the fear
of your own cherished dream's loss?
 
What is that one thing that sets you apart,
that is your unique character fingerprint?
How is your identity unique from all others alive now,
or in the past,
or in future generations?

And, if your uniqueness is no one thing,
but a constellation of attributes,
characteristics, dreams, fears, wisdom,
aspirations, relationships, memories,
then how is any one of those unique to you,
and if none is,
after due consideration,
then how are you not part of me
and all that is related to you
that is also related to others
that are less directly related to you,
on back to the emergence of memory capacity itself?
 
What do you imagine was that first memory?
Do you think it was of longing or belonging,
or somehow both,
like the contentment waiting within harmonic contention,
resolution waving toward our future revolution,
still co-arising in noncontentious background?
 
Is contentment intuited as informat-ionic,
nonlanguaged syntax of sequentially reasonal logos,
to know and love nature's wise resolving resolutions,
without, as within?

Evolution and Revolution each grow, respectively,
Yin- and Yang-temporal resolved,
slow and fast-paced momentum
optimizing balanced incoming diastolic form,
polyculturing function,
with outgoing memory-folded contentment,
confluent wonder.

 
Could prime permacultural balance,
optimize enculturation's meaning
by minimizing  future's monoculturally rapacious dissonance
from wonder,
revolutionary shock,
and co-passionate awe?

Copyright © Gerald Dillenbeck | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse | |

YOU MAN

You Man

-a request by Mam Aiyah

You as a man can fill up this world
With the love of your heart,
Let them flow into your veins
As the oxygen of your spirit
Goes into the lungs of your kindness

You as a man can share the thoughts of your brain,
Even though your memory is not that enough to complete the story
Let your axon abound and connect to the spinal cord of your dreams

You as a man can smile with your lips
Let there be a good quotes for every word
Of your mouth as they slip,
Swallow all the sorrows, 
Cut the sadness of your teeth, make them fly away

You as a man can show your eyes with happiness,
Mix this with inspirations
As they blink in with visionaries

You as a man can smell the fragrance of nice posture
Strain the bad from good using your cilia,
As your thumb and index made it concrete
And threw them at a distance

You as a man can hear solutions,
Can fight all the negative pictures
With your muscles in your skeleton,
You can build a problem killer device
Energy is your emotions,

You as a man can face all of your knotty points
You can hold the sky,
As your feet stay on the ground…
Because you as a MAN,
Is H U M A N…

Copyright © jhucel del rosario | Year Posted 2014

Details | Lyric | |

A poem for YOU

In this world of Uncertainties I’m the man that you can trust And in my words of sincerity That my love would never last. And if you could only feel, what i feel for you You can ask me “why?” so you can see the truth Like our love that tightens the rope, Like a light that would give us hope. As you watch the dark skies Let me grab the moon for you, And as I catch the bright stars That’s the way you can see me through As this planet turns as it always will And things go wrong and you don’t know what to feel Hold my hand for it will make us strong Like a wind, we will carry on The wind blow that sings a hymn for you For they know what does love means for the two Love is blind, and not deaf So how’s success if you’re not ready to bet? In this poem with full of rhymes, A full of love, Babe can you be mine? I don’t expect too much from you Why should I? If you complete my whole. “Till death do us part” that’s what they have said But why do struggles crash them ahead? Don’t ask me when my love will last, To count all of our quarrels, is that a must? Now and Forever is all that I promise No day dreaming and without reminiscence As the matter of time, as the time passes by Together we stand, together you and I
A poem for my Girlfriend for our anniversary :) pls comment and rate... you are free to judge and criticize my work :) God Bless

Copyright © Emmanuel Fajutagana | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

Generic Minds

generic minds listen to generic music
have generic thoughts that are unknowingly abusive
watch generic things talk about generic things
gee this generic *****is spreading like a disease
better get your flu shot 
thats what they said to me
a suicidal vaccine 
a subliminal killing spree
its contagious and the outrageous
thing about it is that the people are blind in an eye
that they didn't even know they had
it's sickening to watch these clueless civilians 
inside the looking glass
with nightmares of being free
without a key to their mind
for it is trapped in the frequency
in the illusion of time
bathed in our universe
killing all that refuse to see
those that admit to hypocracy
or see the message in hip hop
how cant you see
the message in the lyrics that
bring adolescents to their knees
from bullet wounds conflicting their flesh
contradicting that they're the best
but the songs keep telling them that they dont need no rest
that they dont wanna go home
that they should ride alone
with the gat as their only companion
and so the only path they choose is the one that they're told
until they grow old and hope turns to a window pane
inside a window pane, until all they feel is pain
they realize that the music itself is ashamed
so whats to look up to
when you cant even speak when you cant even walk because you look so bleak
your eyes are sunken from the tv you're infested with the dee zees
now its too late to turn around and live for your conscious
so when youre screaming oh please
close your eyes and bring your mind to life
open your eyes for the first time
and never wonder why
since the answer this entire time
has been inside
and you better find it before you die
you dont want your soul to be in a pool with all the others
a buncha brothers missing their mothers
but only seeing strangers
only feeling the haters
wishing they would have used their minds when they had them
and now its too late,
now it's time for another new born fate to grab them

Copyright © Green Trees | Year Posted 2012

Details | Ballad | |

Broken Dreams

  Do you believe in the things that you've always known,
Can you understand the things you've been shown.
   Is it the visions you see that make you believe,
Or is the feelings you get when you've been deceived.
    The pain you feel a never ending ache ,
Tearing your heart and soul from you every day.
    Time ticks slowly pounding away at you,
Throbbing heart breaking and there's nothing you can do,
    Must I settle for these lost and broken dreams,
Because it has all the signs that what it seems.
    How much should a man endure to find his way,
It cant possibly be like this hard for me every day.
    There is nothing so frustrating as being so confused,
Especially when you've discovered that you've been used.
    I will get through this lonely phase I have no doubts,
But I'm sure there will come a day I'll figure it all out.
    Cautiously I walk the path that's been laid before me,
In faith I will continue for I know he will let me see.
    Life will be thrown at you in so many different ways,
I will be prepared for these things for the rest of my days.
    Broken dreams will be the learning tree for me to grow ,
Living my life with Joy Happiness is what I'll always Know.
tac

Copyright © TIMOTHY CARTER | Year Posted 2013

Details | Narrative | |

A Land Bearing Green White Green

Which way leads to the 
land of green white 
green?
Which way are we 
heading?
   A country the wicked 
bears the rulership, and 
the people sighing 
continuously.
   A terrible thing sprouts 
beneath the sun: a 
pregnant woman 
delivering not.
Imps come to lime-light 
by snuffing air from the 
goose that laid the 
golden eggs.
The blind guiding the un
blind.
The weak suppressing 
the strong-a terrible 
thing.
Like the overthrow of the 
gods at Mt. Olympus by 
the Titans.
A country where also 
thieves appear as men of 
integrity.
Land of green white 
green,which way?
A land where the 
enlightened ones are 
overshadowed and 
peanuts given to them.
The masses are dogs that 
eat the crumbs.
 Which way to go you 
Land?
Iliterates stand on 
podium of power 
bellowing orders as milk 
of sorrow known as 
dividends of democracy 
is passed around.
The machine of progress 
manned by the 
unproductive.
"There is better 
tomorrow" we hear.
Land of green white 
green,my country 
where rule of law walk 
beside anarchy.
The proles are sentenced 
to adversity,and there 
endured death-like trials.
Chai! Aru! People 
dancing on thorns 
whimpering as they 
throng 
along.
  I see a new sun rising 
from the horizon,hope is 
rekindled as its rays 
grace on hopeless bodies.
 Look!! there soon be 
change!



Note: 
This 
is 
poem 
full 
of 
Nigeria 
political
 angst.

Copyright © Ifeanyi Bob Ekechukwu | Year Posted 2013

Details | I do not know? | |

The Beach of Promises

The Beach of Promises


1.


Fingers entwined, barely touching,
turquoise waters teasing your dancing toes,

strolling along that serene deserted beach,
our promised dreams within aching reach.


2.


Hands clasped, holding on,
sea-breezes tickling the nape of your neck,

walking together, alone, vowing to never breach,
the dreams dreamed on that faraway velvet beach.


3.


Hands in my pockets, alone,
traces of you linger, teasing,

lost in my scribbles, your memory fading out of reach,

my thoughts ablaze, now and then,
catching a whiff of your fragrance,

wafting through alleyways of nostalgia,
your hand in mine on our pristine beach.



Copyright © Scribbler Of Verses | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

Who Am I

A new photograph floats to the surface
Playfully dressing up as the world around me
Hat, striped socks and all
Tiptoeing at the top for one last sweet moment 
Before sinking back into my ocean mind.

One after another they arrive
Single file,
Steeping my eyes in the world 
As the minds shutter, ever fluttering 
Strings together this conscious stream I play in.

My photographs fade in time’s wrinkled arms.
Joining their brothers and sisters at the ocean floor,
They hold hands and try to answer the question that is always asking itself:
Who am I?

Jacob Reinhardt
10/3/2013

Copyright © Jacob Reinhardt | Year Posted 2013

Details | Narrative | |

Two Trees

Oh tree to my right how you mirror the left
Tree on the left, with great vigor you grow
When waters run dry, your roots search below
To the ends of all branches; lush fruits like Eden
Hundred thousand leaves dance in the wind

Oh tree to my right what phantom did come
Yielding fruit no more; nor vivid leaves to sway
All branches have ceased, no more but a stump
Fifty thousand leaves dance in the wind

Oh tree to my left so valiant, so true
A whip of your branch & firm grip of the wind
To the right, one seed you give; let life grow anew
Solitude tis as fire bound for a tree, a simple truth to all
Fifty thousand leaves dance in the wind

Oh tree to my right; look, now you're grown
As was, now are; from the tree to the left came your rebirth
Teeming with life & beauty displayed
Hundred thousand leaves dance in the wind

Copyright © Gallagher Goodland | Year Posted 2014

Details | Haiku | |

Haikus About God: IV

God made all people
But some better than others?
Stop being silly.

Copyright © Dan Keir | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

Tangible Dreams

In the midst of darkness descending 
above me, 
Stillness seems to overtake sound, 
Allowing moments for deep thought 
in this mirror of solitude.

I tend to reminisce on those dreams I 
grab from the photogenic events of 
the past.

Once touched, I’m taken back by the 
moments that can’t be replaced. 

So during this moment of tranquility; 
I pray no external force interrupts 
this, 
The calm waters in my mind. 

Lucky for me, it’s a reoccurring dream; 
And as vivid as these fantasies are, 
None compare to the peaceful illusions 
of family gatherings. 

It was only yesterday, when I illustrated thoughts 
of a child, 
Always curious of that deep ocean floor, 
Where familiar kin paint their residence ; 
I was an eyewitness to many overlooked 
areas within my family’s ocean. 

Yet with many pieces missing as a result of 
loved ones ascending to a higher cause, 
This puzzle remains incomplete until that 
last tomorrow.

However in these possible moments 
of delusion; 
I’m a child again touching the fabric 
of my influential past.

As I continue this unforgettable daydream,
I ask again for no interruption; 
For with every reminiscent moment, 
I know of myself better and what I 
could be in a tangible future. 

Copyright © Jiril Clemons | Year Posted 2013

Details | Free verse | |

A Dream

At a moment in my life long, long ago —
I had a dream of an ethereal existence,
Transcending the very mortal bounds of existence.

What a sublime notion worthy of thought;
To be an “Entity” beyond our mortal existence.

My thoughts are there, each and every day;
Moving outside of “Everydayness.” 

What a moment to behold while looking
In the vortex of life:  past, present, future.

Who will be my Sage? my Guide?
Questions pervade my Soul, my Being.

When I awaken will I remember or
Continue living as a one-dimensional person?

My dream world should be my reality.
My real world should be not—or is this so?

Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved, Schoeningen, Germany
(September 28, 2014) (Free Verse poetic format)

Copyright © Gary Bateman | Year Posted 2014