Best Sleeper Poems

"The Sleeper and The Supernaturalist"


The Sleeper
shone as she walked 
through the Woods

shining alive 
like nothing
natural could

caught 
in the moonlight 
unaware

the innocent
red-caped roses stared
the trees whispered,

"beware, beware"

barefoot softly 
the Supernaturalist 
transfigures instead

from under shine 
she bares 
what exists 

deeper 
beneath 
that cumbersome skin

silently she turns 
watching...

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Some days, I am a dreamer of the future.
I tend to imagine myself treading paths
I've always dreamed of taking.
At night, before I sleep I try to
Envision myself in a court defending
A client with all my might and knowledge


Mondays, I am an attorney.
Tuesdays, I step on...

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Alone I walk through the valley of unrest
my life but a dream within a dream.
Then you come to me as the evening wanes
and my heart skips a beat in each golden moonbeam.

You, an enigma that haunts my dreamland,
will never allow me to enter your realm,
so...

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To he who sleeps but does not dream,
Who wastes the breaths he takes between
His slumbers sloom. Encumbered by
Suspended consciousness unseen.

Sleeper, dreams you cannot savor,
Like a ship in breeze’s favor...
Lo, a sail this ship is lacking,
Shortage of the ocean’s flavor.

To you, the sleeper, much like me,
Encompassing...

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The Reckless Sleeper
Copyright July 16th 2009 Corinne Curcio

A dream - the landscape 
Rambunctious subconscious
Plays hide and seek with your soul
You look for clarity
A crumb of charity
Something to swallow whole

But those in the know look backwards
Light a candle and brighten the sky
The mirror within offers a...

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Throw the dishes, close the drawer.
shut the cupboard, slam the door.
Raise your voice, holler loud.
The kids are sleeping, it's ok to yell.

Angry parents don't stop to think,
Loud and righteous in a blink.
Children cower in shadows dark.
They don't hear you, or so you think.

Once a happy...

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I'm five. 
It is light outside and I'm in bed.
But Mummy says it's late
My feet are bored.
They can hear the world outside 
And want to run, to dance, to play.
And I must say good night.

I am 35.
It's light outside and I'm in bed.
It's early morning
My...

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Lost out of the picture,
fallen out of life,
cut-eyed shut down

from all the cars and trains
and all this carrying and breaking
and lines of words without spaces.

You breathe softly, regular,
as if in a deep wood,
as paced as a slow piston

in exile to yourself,
a half life turned inside

as...

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Deep in thought,
alone in the dark.
Traveling amidst, 
the starry filled night.
Whispers about,
the native tongue.
Who can speak, 
the travelers mind.
Empty motions,
trapping my thoughts,
the key to your life,
is to love yourself....

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He eats
Never pays
He sleeps
Never pays
Life is good on his side of the boat
He speaks 
Pays no phone bill
He bathes 
Buys no soap
Smells good
Buys no colonge
Calls the place he lays his head home
Never thanks anyone for what he given
In his mind it's owed for being born
He...

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Nothing comes to a sleeper but a dream 

I feel asleep 
Not once but twice 
Sometimes I feel I slept on my life 
I always knew I was great 
But the world didn't see it 
Because they would hate 
Instead of congratulate
Couldn't tell the real...

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morning sun intrudes
through my bedroom window shade
before alarm sounds
does it know something I don’t?
like missing the early worm?

written October 11, 2021...

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If you are a dreamer make it a reality
If you are awake pay attention
If you are a child you must grow up
If you are a singer you must sing
If you a walker learn to drive
If you pray do it with confident
If you are a talker...

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Salvation of hollow-burrow, spaceful for life,
hiding and appearing engaged that day.
Seven Sleepers, unwanted companions,
pardoners, neither demigod-cyborg nor god.
Peaceful in retreat of folding nocturnal-diurnal.
Contemplation bleached the sinners,
restraining lust, abstinence for circular bell tolls.

The Cavern's Sleepers,
Sophia of hibernation,
tapa Barata....

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To my vision; all around some very good poetry, here abounds.' 
Many born from 1950s and 60s express thoughts; emotions. That inspire no less!. Who were taught; by those from the
1920s and thirtys..My conjectue? Now on old schools qualitys i
Feel.' I Sense and so will...

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