I wake in the dream of my shame,
exalted by the breadth and scope of it.
This blood on my hands, whose is it? Mine
or yours? I cannot remember…
I am more loss than I am creation.
I am rubble, standing firm. I am a fallen
castle. I deserve this guilt, but must
relinquish it.
Grief: I carry the way a girl carries a doll,
tight and snug to her chest. I undress it at night to
show it my lacerations.
Sometimes we suffer too much reality.
I yearn to know you again, I yearn to know
myself. The rain always has its lessons:
A tree grows through
a rock and chooses to be
beautiful.
I am what I am.
I am what I am.
I dreamed I am — within your Thoughts —
As Neurons — in our Brains —
Where every Whisper — folds into Silk —
And Waking — feels the same —
No Stranger — could divide the Sleep —
That binds our Breath — like Thread —
Two Lanterns — in the Dark — alight —
Each — by the Other — fed —
The World — withdrew — its iron Tongue —
And Time — forgot to Keep —
While I — became your Secret — kept —
When We — were both — Asleep —
Harpies shrieked and lost souls wailed
The cold wind stung as embers sailed
A fetid stench, eyes red with dust
When I looked through to Tartarus.
Black column’s rose in demon form
terror enthralling those forlorn
Compelled I shuddered as I must
When I looked through to Tartarus.
Ten-fold my dread, to see your face
Among the shades in this cursed place
I cried your name, you didn’t hear
Glass-eyed and stricken with despair
Bleak bedlam dweller all hope hushed
When I looked through to Tartarus
As I wept, nigh tolled a bell
The Angel Keeper Uriel
Bellowed low “it must be thus”
When I looked through to Tartarus.
My beloved Goddess, watch over me
while my soul takes its evening journey.
Travelling the Astral plane,where time doesn't exist.
I'll provide inspiration to those I enlist.
May no harm come to anyone I meet.
May I never be a victim of deceit.
Protect me with your golden light
while I'm vulnerable in the night.
Watch over my soul as I fly
across a pink & purple sky.
I will bring hope to those who have none.
Return me to my body before the rising sun.
May no darkness inhabit my shell.
May only the forces of light within me dwell.
I floated away
From my body not to stay
To see things differently
As others I see
But there are chords
Connected to me towards
So I know I am not passed
Until finally the projection does not last.
© Paul Warren Poetry
eyes are collecting dewdrops
and growing damp with mist;
soul prepares for astral flight
weary body goes still in falling light
if only for one fragment of night...
(you are lightning, glorious)
open those fresh, dewy eyes.
be serene outside of skin;
behold the soul-web,
like a strange ocean of
gossamer flowers pooling
around the ankles of humans
and the roots of trees.
it is what binds you to me
hyacinth to willow tree
dolphin to peyote button and
peyote button to bee.
Pretty soon
It will be pretty June
The city comes alive
With blooming blasting tunes
Gangster goons
And their lovely lady loons
Stirring violence
Under the lunatic summer moon
Downtown pedestrian platoons
Hitting the nightclub saloons
Backrooms and thick exotic perfume
I can see everything
Without even leaving my room
In the evening clouded by medicinal fumes
Hop skipping across giant
Floating nitrous oxide balloons
Unencumbered by my body mass and girth
I fly along at the speed of whim
Unconcerned about physical attributes
I can focus on the joy and beauty of my vantage point
The world below and out in front of me, opens
The world of noise and doubt inside of me, closes
In this place of "betweens" I find solace
In this place of "infinites" I find myself
.......drifting....
.......yearning.....
...........growing.
****for the favorite mode of transportation contest****
I want to leave
go away from here
out of this body
to another sphere.
Out I go now
into a long funnel.
There is no light here
as through a tunnel.
I emerge into
the darkest of dark
with only a few twinkles
to give a spark
Into this space I move
though its very cold
and no longer am I sure
to be so bold.
Then voices come
distant rumble of babble,
no words appear
only the sounds of rabble.
Like in an auditorium
with everyone talking as one.
The cacophony grew and I knew
I shouldn't have come.
The grass is not greener,
it doesn't exist.
There is only cold out here
and here was the twist:
All the universe
I will ever know
is within myself
no matter where I go.
I must return
go away from here
back to my home
on the glorious blue sphere
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.