Best Lucid Poems
Last night I dreamt that I was dancing
in soft foggy mists designed in
pearly bows, frolicking from
thin fluffy silver waves-
blanketing moonlit
skies within hour
less hills and
jasmine
fields
free
flowing
through blue bliss
lakes, in lucid
motions, as seamless
ripples reflect a sweet
rhapsody of a golden
rose sprouting amidst glistening
rays, as I name mauve stars with your love
It's 2 a.m. and for the life of me
I can’t sleep. Perhaps too many iced green
Teas. It doesn’t bother me you see
Not getting rest I mean, it’s the caffeine
That keeps me awake and I miss dreaming
Dreams that I turn into reality.
Those pleasant visions become the real thing:
A contrived visual modality.
Awake I’m between
A paradoxical dream
And veracity
In this state I know who I really am
Because I am the creator of them.
A fluid existence into this realm
Where all I dream is at my command.
The rules of conduct
Are for myself to decide
I’m the one in charge
Experiment with my thoughts and beliefs
with elaborated dream-scape motifs.
Tenacious ichor tells entire construction
Divulges puerile battles during idle procedure
Relic compiling spotlight show seduction
Library ivory tower truth siphoning beseecher
Adapted lady adorns princely throne
Padlock hammocks tween valuable threads
Warm cove cocoon moors love's loan
Imbibing cover only, for information dreads
Mould folded within her novel costume
Pacifying massage, limbs lubricated levitate
Elephant keratin tusk thrusts impromptu
Smudge of shame fades chalk dust archaic
- Fifth September
Fabricating Sculptor
A dream in tune with waking world,
meanings grasp conscious unfurled,
alive alliteration aligned,
beautifully poised and perfectly timed.
Lucid dreamer weaving webs,
create rising tide that never ebbs,
perihelion pendulum swung medallion,
riding thought speed's unbroken stallion.
All the while the rising tide grows,
does atmosphere expand does water overflow,
brain makes madness meandering call,
beckoning stars to earth they slowly fall.
Full lotus seated at Everest peak,
three eye's sight voice of mind to speak,
conducting planet's orchestral symphony,
nature moves to wave of hands rhapsody.
Awake in tune with sleeping world,
meanings grasp unconscious unfurled,
alive alliteration aligned again,
pen poised perfection safe from meaningless ink stain.
Falling
Sweetly kissing, she
She
Living but dead
Truly she is
A bitter nightmare
That I can never kiss
But still my
Sweet, sweet dreams
Of blissful scars
A dream filled with me
And me
And me
And the delusions of we
Now I’m falling,
Falling back to the skies of reality.
Look upon city once known by name,
ruins that I called home, streets swallowed by flame,
in time alive shell not witness less of what should you understand,
reach on to hand of a stranger, scroll remain;
in signs that might be changing welcome,
different of a man.
When dawn awakes and there is no light,
upon dusk of man darkness will be spread by sight,
in time not different change will arise, life we thought you knew,
death would recognize.
Hearts will bound to King without a Crown,
why do mothers shed tears, echo rooted in the ground,
is there reason of a foolish wars, contracts written in blood,
new born babies died breathless, can't even appreciate the Sun,
don't deserve to live, not worth of the land,
existence will be scattered in ashes,
you will be remembered
by name.
What does she see in this tour path puddle?
It is her mother's longing lucid dream.
Shimmering shadows that are so subtle,
fading liberty hopes, that she has seen.
An aspiration of just what might be
openly revealed on a brick walkway.
A watery wish this lone child can see
sparking a lifelong quest for her today.
She surely has the right to liberty
even blind bigots can't deny her that.
Diverse people strive for their dignity
yet may fall prey to cruel caveat.
Traipsing timidly through these near narrows
remember rainbows can't cast dark shadows.
Sonnet 97 words 14 lines 12/22
Color pencil illustration by G. Gaul
Independence Hall, Philadelphia, PA USA
pictured in the puddle. Imaginary future
image of the young girl who is looking,
appears in front of Independence Hall.
LUCID DREAM 33
I saw you dream. Now read between each word.
I thought the dream was mine, but it was you
who dreamt of me, a love song seldom heard,
though it was me, I guess you never knew.
Yes I was there, not making any sense,
and you, so young and beautiful would think
who is this fool, across my rusting fence?
And you'd not dream I am your missing link.
How else could I be there, where-in you sleep,
and touch your hand; remembering your eyes
when I awake, from what I thought too deep
to understand or hope to fantasize.
I saw you dream. I searched to find a gate,
but none was there and you had dreamed too late.
© ron arbuthnot
Often I wake up and see around
All the smiles & laughs & shouts, they do
The chatters & chirps & the happening hue
Them, with pretty faces and splendid crew
I see, gangs of beauties that tie them tight
Some exquisite personas & some strut types
Some are the jokers & some are ace,
Them, at least own that curve on their face.
Nicely painted and contoured they appear,
All shades of dramatic I encounter,
Even my face gets that curve to settle;
But I AGAIN wake up from this lucid interval.
-Jazz 28/09/14
Midnight skies encompassed the Earth
As the wind gently ruffled my tesselated dress
My feet caressed the soil
As I neared the edge
Cold waters spilled through my fingers
As I fused them into the stream
Redolent and succulence suffused my senses
Enrapturing me towards an evocative harvest
Dulcet lips pressed against mine
Our two hearts become idyllic
Your eyes are crystalline as you stare back into mine and
We unite, you become my chrysalis
Our ways are without form
Our souls are exuberant, care free
Nature becomes a somnolent lullaby
As you caress me in your arms
Gracefully
You are opening my cellar door
My heart is no longer lost in oblivion
Ever long, I am yours
My pendaulum, my lily in the pond
A kaleidoscope of wisteria
Your love knocks me out cold
Until I hear sonorous tintinnabulations
Your lyrical tongue awakens me
Painting enticing visions
The words you speak, resonate in my eyes
I'm tongue tied and mesmerized
Clinging to isolation
My world had stood still...
A dead spherical hell
Before I knew your name
Your words succumb serpents
Yet justify angels
Bring curved smiles
Rolled eyes of jealousy
When I open my eyes to hear your melody
I fall for you and land in soft autumn leaves
I capture menacing memories
Trap them in a jar
Tie it with a pretty bow
Just to smash it
And never feel that low again
You bring out my hunger
With you I finally realize
I'm human
I'm not lucid...
I'm just a wildflower.
Is it difficult to request a simple lucid moment?
All the treachery and deceit shocking my existence
Filled with bewilderment and disgust, I can only lament
The innocence and simplicity of a smothered soul
Finally, I understand there are things beyond my control
As optimism drains gradually from my heart and mind,
I rant, cry, and resent the world of pretense and personal gain
Is it not humanely possible to act as humans anymore?
I finally understand: it is beyond my control
I can only accept and pray for the human touch to soar
Once again…
I used to have a lovely mini-dog
who followed me wherever I would go.
Nobody in my family cared for him,
for only I he loved – that Eskimo!
Into my arms he’d leap when I got home
from having worked. He’d wait beside the door
and know instinctively that I’d be coming.
No other doggie could I have loved more.
It happened that I had to part with him.
My heard was broken, but I’d been assured
a “no-kill” policy protected him,
and always by someone he’d be procured.
A few years later, as I lay asleep,
I woke, and to my great amazement, he
was right there on the bed. I said his name.
Excitedly, my dear dog jumped to me.
I felt him in my arms; I rubbed my face
into his fur; I smelled and felt it too.
He was as soft as I remembered him.
My dream to be with him again came true.
I ended back inside another dream
with my small dog; and here’s what I discerned:
his soul had flown, but right as he had died,
on his way out – to me he had returned!
April 11, 2023
for Unseeking Seeker's A Wisdom Download Poetry Contest
Lucid Dreaming
There’s a place in your dreams
Where I’m told you can go
And know that you’re dreaming
But able to guide the dream show.
I’ve tried and I’ve tried
A dream journal I’ve kept,
But I’ve never been able
To gain control when I slept.
It would be such a wonder to know
That my dreams could stop running so fast,
And turn to find your loving arms
Holding me tightly at last.
To enter this dream state is not easy
I’ll keep trying, its secrets to reveal
For to somehow find you in my dreams
Would be the wonder I’m longing to feel.
I fell asleep
Dreaming of desire
Inflamed by fire
That love inspired
In decadent attire
Lucidity rewired
Balancing highwires
Frequently supplied
What transpired
between
Glowing sapphires
between
Calling a ceasefire
between
Raging bonfires
between
A lovers fire
between
Unfolding desires
I fell asleep
Dreaming of desire
Inflamed by fire
That love inspired
In decadent attire
Lucidity rewired
Balancing highwires
Frequently supplied
What transpired
between
Glowing sapphires
between
Calling a ceasefire
between
Raging bonfires
between
A lovers attire
between
Unfolding desires
(Unfinished)
LUCID DREAM
As I can bounce a thought from off the moon,
while you are looking, when I know it's you
perhaps you'll sing along, less out of tune;
Sureal, the moon will do what it can do.
All mystic from the past; each witch's spell;
each wizard's charge of magic--candlelight;
some power of one's love; each tolling bell;
rains down from melting pots of lucid night.
And when the moon is full, and in its prowl
escaping where it's been so it can fly,
deep in the forest dark, the wolfmen howl,
and I look for this love to never die.
On one such moment, like we've never known
Reality sets in, you've been alone.
© Ron Wilson aka Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet