Best Imaginationnight Poems
The night is a hand cold as stone
Wrapped around my sun - warmed body
It can make one feel so alone
And laughs at those who love the day
The night is a shady man dressed in all black
Who surrounds me as if he were many
He’ll greatly make one’s courage lack
And terrify those who love the day
The night is as quiet as a mouse
But yet is always seen
He’ll silently creep into your house
And capture those who love the day
The night is poised for a throw
His weapon used is fear
Our inner light shall make us grow
And protect those who love the day.
Hey there Janie,last name Doe...
tell me baby,where ya wanna go?
maybe for a ride feel the wind in your hair,
maybe the nearest park,or an old country fair?
May I suggest,we take the fastest jet
fly overseas,to the sights the old world set,
climb Peru,spend the night at Machu Pichu
talk all night under starlight and o-o-hhh...
Then let's fly to Maui,hold hands and kapowie
kick alittle surf alittle sand then you can WOW me,
jump into a dugout and paddle to Easter Island
sit with the Mo'ai and watch those sunsetting strands,
maybe even imagine what those statues see
share some philosophy,at the ocean of dreams...
Then let's jetset,walk the sands of the Middle East
camel caravan to Petra,enjoy an ancient feast,
walk the Giza Pyramids,pretend to be King and Queen
lounge along the Nile amongst shady papyrus reeds,
visit all those ancient symbols waiting to be decoded
we should do it now before time eventually erodes it,
maybe discover an altogether different meaning
maybe uncover ancient secrets and new learning...
Then let's walk,the jungles of Angor Wat-her
taste some of Arabia,Persia,India and Indonesian fare,
let's visit the Philipines,that's where my family is from
enjoy their island generosity,and do alittle some-some...
So heythere Janie Doe...
watcha wanna do...where ya wanna go,
as long as we're together,it's always our show...
A. W. Nutter
The sun slowly setting, time to rest
Praying constantly to find peace
For just one night I would be blest
Please God, put my mind at ease
Darkness feeds my apprehension
Wondering if the Succubus will appear
One night without her resurrection
To sleep unbridled from my fear
The curtains sway without a breeze
As a shadow approaches my bed
Petrified with a disabling disease
Her ice cold hand strokes my head
The clothing, she begins to remove
From her paralyzed sexual slave
Laying transfixed unable to move
A corpse being raped in his grave
Infusing my mind with erotic scenes
Devouring my soul as I reach ecstasy
Lips eagerly swallowing my screams
Mentally destroyed by her intimacy
As I lay here on a cold winters night ,
Reached behind me,you were not there .
For some reason you were out of site ,
I looked and your pillow was bare .
On that cold winters night I could not sleep,
Kept reaching,trying to feel you near .
Out of my mind you could not seep ,
Through out the night you did not appear .
The sad feeling of being all alone ,
Oh,what a night it became to be .
Reason for the absence was unknown ,
For a cold winters night absentee .
On this cold winters morn did I awake to see ,
Was it my heart that you did not adorn .
Or a dream inside of my head to be ,
On this cold winters morn .
Copyright Susan Martin(2008)
There is a common remedy for those who wish to sleep
They recommend to close your eyes and count imagined sheep
Just lie down and think of them lined up in single file
And count them bouncing one by one over a farmer's stile.
Sheep are very docile many hopeful sleepers find
And easily controlled by a less than wakeful mind
But yet there is a number who find the task a toll
Which does not help them sleep at all, because they lose control.
Their sheep are unco-operative: they do not jump on cue
They're likely to do other things that sheep just should not do
They play leap-frog and some hang-glide or tunnel underground
Or make the counting difficult by shuffling around.
So, many lie awake at night and hear the ticking clock
Counting down the hours as they struggle with their flock
All alone they battle long through till the morning's light
The sad and unsuccessful sleepless shepherds of the night.
Barely awake they suffer by the sleepless light of day
By night they try to slumber while their sheep cavort and play
Their woollen nerves warped, wefted, on fragile mental looms
They alternate sleep therapy with doctor’s waiting rooms.
So, if you are the fortunate and get your eight hours sleep
Be grateful for your fortune and your well disported sheep
And give a thought for others, who are not so kindly blessed
Whose sheep are so unruly and whose sleep is so distressed.
Off the case! Why am I off the Red Light case?
Not that Rodney, this Shadow killer case.
I am letting homicide head that one up, It's not Vice,
Captain, when a prostitute is attacked and her pimp gets
whacked, No pun intended, that makes id Vice doesn't it?
" Rodney, just what do you know about this case?
Captain, from the evidence I've seen, what we have here
is from all indications, a modern day Samuari Shogun
with a very sharp sword called a Katana. This person knows
how to use it, and so far only on bad guys who like hurtin
women. So far only at night, comes in quiet takes care of
business and goes out quiet very quiet and virtually unseen.
Anyway you slice it, their dead and bloody
" Just what in the name of Judas is a Samuari
Shogun person you are talking about Rodney"?
Well Cap'n a Samuari Shogun is from Japan, old Japan
Dresses all in black, with only the eyes visible and carries
a single edged sword. At night would appear to be a shadow
" How do you know all this Rodney"? Well I spoke to
the M.E. after he was done with the stiff and we looked
it up you know kinda like doin my job. Police work and all
Besides Cap'n, Homicide is short a couple of guys
and what they have left are well sort of green
they have only been here in homicide a couple years
Face it Cap'n they could use the help and we both know it,
I already got a leg or two up on this case anyway, ya know
" Rodney, I'll tell you what I'll do, I'll have a talk with
the Chief of Homicide and put in a word for you"
If he is ok with it, I'll let you go homicide on temporary
assignment, only temporary got it? we'll go from there"
Thanks Cap'n, can I go now I'm kinda bushed?
been up all night and all," Sure Rodney come in
in the morning and we'll see what homicide says
Brick went to his locker and put his things inside
everything but his weapon's and his shield.
Brick always carried a stow away on his right leg
After that Brick went to his desk to make sure
that his report was all in order so he could turn
it in, by this time it was one in the afternoon
Brick was ready to go home for some needed rest
as he walked out the front door he headed for the
subway, Brick didn't see the eyes watching him.
" Shogun"
Darkest Night blinds my sight.
Breeze of cold chills my soul.
When day breaks, I will weep.
Because the Darkest Night is when I sleep.
Moon will shine by some design.
Protecting all, keeping us in line.
Power it emits beauty to all.
Time I love most is when night falls.
The day means nothing it isn’t real.
That’s because it hasn't learned how to feel.
The Darkest Night now that’s a sight.
The Darkest Night is when I feel right.
Yeah I know the names is tooken
already, you know the Diiamond
mine has two eyes, no it doesn't mean
I'm watching you; actually it means your watching
me like an owl on its night prowl.
If it was up to me I'd rob everyone
of you blind, and then return it back
to you
Nothing like practice
No...... I'm talking bout your sadness
I would stick up your bad day and steal
your sadness, I think like the wolves on the
nature channel, or the lions always got make an
example out of some punk a-- hyennas
Mental s
You know like the grass is green
I like grass
The workers are tired
I hate to work
But I will work over your private
safe while your on vacation
I'm good at it well not me a friend of
mine, I'm good planning things out
like keepimg the dog happy while he work
on ya safe--- LOL LOL
Mental s
You ever see the guy in the movie
need that rush in life to fully live
the perfect woman? she loves to role play
Over night I'm an actor, she gives midnight
awards for my prospectives with positions
look up kinky my face is there.
Mental s
PLEASE READ!!
Thanks guys for these comments and I want to say.. sometimes I have no idea where this stuff comes from, I wrote this lsat year as an exercise piece for a short story, but I'm talking directly to you but its not intended for you, in the book up to this point the charactor is standing around some vuluable things and hes thinking to himself. Its my style of writing My alter ego is... wow!!! Thanks guys and have a great morning.
Sometimes I wake in the middle of the night
and decide to take a long walk
so I slip on my shoes and my very best hat
and of course my flowered soft smock
I'm all set to go as I step to the ledge
and take a deep breath to push off
out through the window I step on the stars
and land on the moon ever soft
As the moon spins her beams she glances my way
surprised to see me appear
oh hello she says from her shiny glass face
what brings you into my sphere
I say Mrs Moon, as I sometimes call her that
since tonight you're only half there
just thought I'd pop over to see how you are
for a quick little chat in your chair
So what is the news from the dark side of earth
can you see the night owl down there?
or what of that cat out prowling around
did he give that poor mouse a great scare?
And what of the side that is hiding from you
is the sun out playing her shine?
keeping the flowers and trees ever tall
and turning the grapes into wine?
Oh Mrs Moon do you hear the stars sing
as they twinkle in three part harmony
do you hear the seas as they lap the seashore
and laugh as they run wild and free
Well I guess that is all I wanted to say
as I feel quite spent now you see
with a yawn and a sigh I gather my things
for away I most certainly must be
Since it's almost that time now to pull back your beams
and to close your eyes for the day
to gather the night and put it to rest
Mrs Moon put your moon shine away
I step off the moon and back to the stars
back to the ledge of my room
slip off my shoes and my hat from my head
sinking deep in the sleep of the moon
Rosie played the Hammond Organ at the church
This week she left us in a real lurch
For Rosie went off with one of those vaccum salesmen
Who turned her eye wearing Spandex boxer shorts on tight skin
The choir director will be in dire straits
Because a mouse built his house in the organ with his mate
We placed a listern soaked tissue in there
Hoping it will stink those meese away __that pair
Now Rosie's husband is one medicine for insomnia and emotional pain
He's drifting in and out of being nearly insane
I heard some tid bits the other day
At the convention for women only what can I say
Well this is it, "Rosie's now playing gigs
At the "Wormholes" all night club where truckers park their own rig."
It's right next to those lunar craters
Where in their kitchen at night the vacuum salesman peels potatoes
That night they saw a UFO land and steal nuclear waste
And this was beyond half-past eight
When Rosie wined and dined her friends
She told them the whole weird story..The End..
Believe it or not your choice....
This night is fill with fear the aroma of blood is in the air.
And plus this night only happen once a year.
Demons walking the streets craving for fresh meat.
As they repeat these three words trick-or-treat.
Because Hollween is the only time that they feel free.
And today they will be no running from the banshee.
We will be witness to this violent storm this world is trap in a meteor swarm.
Each day is a different form of stress our life is deform.
I am crazy
I wonder nightmarish dreams
I hear demons screaming insanely
I see troublesome rocks in malign streams
I want you to think you can save me
I am crazy
I pretend darkness is my savior
I feel night crawlers under my skin
I touch my soul with my prayer
I worry I will commit the ultimate sin
I cry when the night catches on fire
I am crazy
I understand my fear of hell
I say who is not frightened by a world surrounded by flame
I dream of witches casting a spell
I try not to bleed but blood will reign
I hope I can stay in this asylum so I can yell
I AM CRAZY!
On a dare
full well knowing its reputation
the evils lurking up there
I took a small tent on my back
a bottle of whiskey cheese and meats in my pack
And just before sundown
with handshakes from friends laughter safe wishes all round
Ascended
Climbing steadily
the way quite long quite steep a fall would be deadly
Then at very summit tired sweaty bent
unpacked my small canvas tent
on the rock-smooth ground
And even at that early hour thought I heard in the distance
the howl of a wolf or a Baskerville hound
Growing dark now
Oh how black this night might be
a night with no moon
no rocks to give shelter no trees
Alone in that gloom I built a fire
a small fire with what few twigs I could find
Now again that distant howl and in my mind see
blazing red orbs in the midnight mist
looking out at me
adding doubt mounting fear cold sweat to my misery
Energy nearly spent
I found it impossible
in sheer rock
to drive wooden stakes for my tent
So I sat by my small blaze on that bare mountain
wrapped in a blanket
now too midnight-dark to try a descent
Just at the witching hour a strange wind came up
and though I hovered o'er
put out my fire
Then this smell
(aroma is far too nice a word)
on the wind
stench from the pit of HELL!
All Satan's demons in circle appeared
the night lit up by my smoldering fear
They shrieked laughed belched hot lava
Hear those hounds of Hell
and by winds-eerie music
dance their drunken bacchanal
Pierced by searing pitchforks body on fire
smoking pleading scorched down to an ember
It was the DEVIL'S voice close to my ear cursing me
the last I remember
But HARK now!
My rooster crows from my hovel's dirt floor
I'm in my bed
In poverty's room
far removed from the horrors the mountainous gloom
and safe from red SATAN'S eternal doom
Night to day
Night to day
Give us the night this star possessed,
When darkness holds desires,
For spirits heed the softer strains
That time could not abandon;
And trapped are we in this time of change
Where moonshine ignites the darkness,
But who shall light our path of tread
In a serenity of the solitude
I sleep in wait till daylight breaks
And dreams are dead and gone,
Until what is held ‘tween sound and lights
Enkindled the quiet dawn;
Conceived is not our lost intent,
Nor the indifference of the light,
But all is past when thoughts remain
In the sunlit beams of day
By M.Norton
marklnorton@shaw.ca
Form:
I am the salvage of the universe. The first fruit of heaven
The ear with which the great Spirit conversed, the silent song
Struggling with the heavy chains of the flowers heart
When night has nothing else to eat, it drinks of beauty
From the stars, and wipe its mouth with me. In this skin
Is where my friendship with the world begins, the grape of night
In the hands of the sky, the of seed blackness, father of light
The silent symphony of the stars, with broken wings in flight
The rags of planets dripping from the heavens' mouth.