Best Sleepwalkers Poems


Frail Paper Etched With Words

Whether poets, showmen or philosophers,
Or mere cowboys who follow herds—
They all want to leave behind a lasting mark—
More than frail paper etched with words.

But the cold, hard truth still lies in the doing
And all but a blessed few will fail—
But on we go like bison over the cliff—
Hoping our wings sprout and we sail.

And like restless sleepwalkers we do wander
From one thing and then to the next—
Till we find what it is that will then save us
To put life in proper context.

So on we scribble and strive for the right phrase—
Catch meaning and life in birds—
Put emotions and feelings we briefly hold
On this frail paper etched with words.
© Glen Enloe  Create an image from this poem.

I Found Myself

I found myself
Wandering across
A dreamscape
That was not my own;
And wondering
About the many
Dreamscapes of
The wanderers,
Suddenly seeing
That I was wandering
The dreamscape of
The wonderers of
The wanderers
That still wonder;—
A dreamscape
All my own and
Still not mine.

I found myself
Moseying with
The meanderers;
Found we were
Bound by an
Identical path,
One of us being
Leisurely, the
Other clueless.
Me, moseying,
Smelled the rose
Of the meanderer,
Who, meandering,
Saw me moseying
And assumed
I simply walked
Slowly; he also
Failed to see
That he held
A flower in his
Unmindful hand.

I found myself
Sleepwalking
Amongst the
Somnambulists,
Questioning their
Dreamscapes,
Why wandering
Them apparently
Was pleasing.
And they cursed
Me, declaring,
"What can a
"Sleepwalker
"Know about
"Somnambulism?"
So I found myself
Sleepwalking
Amongst the
Somnambulists,
The somnambulists
somnambulating
Over us
Sleepwalkers'
Heads, demanding
We succumb
To the greater
Mindful power.

I found myself
Graveled by
The grovelers—
Irritated by
The peasants.
The grovelers,
They grovel for
Me not to be
Graveled at
Their mistakes.
Yet the mistake
Is the groveling
At the graveled;
And how graveled
At the grovelers
I am. It is a circular
Conversation—
The grovelers
Shall die in
The dungeons
Of the graveled,
Trapped in
Perpetuation.

If Music Were, But Mere Dreams

If music were but, mere dreams
What a bitter sorrowful waste this would be
Thus shadows, and to play a note
A meager reminder of a world without hope

Nexus of the heart blacker than grayer
Taste, loveless sapor than savor 
Flowers wilt and will not, then they wither die
Laughter ends forthwith when only moments survive

Unmoving, undefining, joyous tears unwept, and never drying
Nor celebrations of song and dance relive or reviving
Simple songbirds mimic miming melancholy silent
Winds untheraputic cease, trees untickled lie dormant

That’s why I'm grateful for musical spiritual gifts
Through melodies, how Christ inspires and uplifts
Yes, if music were but, mere dreams
Then all of us sleepwalkers, a soul nonexistent, zombies in another reality


Blind Realization To See

I need to quit wasting my time and letting people distract me people who try to Sidetrack me they are not my friends nothing gets done willpower will dwarf any negative Force or energy so Point your fingers your cameras and you're disdain at me because I am you and we are us, character alone speaks my battles it's a hard fight for him or her being alone in the dark with only God watching I no longer listen to random conversation I refuse to let the confusion of the world's  Sleepwalkers affect Me so now I'm going blind to see.

The Sleepwalkers

I KNOW I am asleep--I want to awaken, but I don't know how...
so I sleep and sleep with eyes wide open and brain churning,
trying to wake myself, you, all the sleepers as they dream that 
endless dream we call life....

We sleep and dream, dream and sleep,but we never awaken, 
not even if we win medals of gold and silver 
or the purple hearts of war--we just sleep and dream, 
dream and sleep, all from the time we are born
until the moment we die--

THEN WE AWAKEN!

Sleepwalkers

dearest friend among the halls,
i shall answer the dreamer's calls,

to where you stand i long to be,
to wake with you beside me,

we met in night by bright moon beam,
when i first met you in my dream.


Premium Member Intrance Jh 44

twilight
sleepwalkers
    awaken

Untitled Dover Beach

Death is the thing with feathered wings
Here on these rocky Dover cliffs
Against which breaks perpetual wave upon wave
    Melting away this earth-stone base
    Atop which rests the sky


Sleepwalkers, walking with lead-laden feet
They dream only of falling, falling
Let us, love, dream of one another
    Beneath the white gulls crying
    And the moon-tides dying

Vigilant

With you, I gladly 
dance the sleepwalkers' waltz, yet 
still, while on my way 

to descend, picking 
up the thread by following 
Ariadne's line, 

like vigilant ones, 
I would rather desire to
be on the watch by your side.
© Diana Bosa  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Sleepwalkers

She did not recall those nightly forages
 Those midnight snacks had packed on the pounds
 From her eating habits she couldn't disengage
She needs to solve the mystery of those midnight rounds

 Her husband was suspicious too
 And he wondered what he should do
 For someone was putting miles on his car!
 It was really quite bizarre

 So he installed cameras, both inside and out
 To see what this mystery was all about
 They reviewed the tapes after a couple days
 They were both shocked and dismayed

There was his wife having a midnight snack
 Sleepwalking to the kitchen and back!
 The couple knew this was no dream
 For there he was, driving down the road with high beams!
 This sleepwalking couple knew just what to do
 They'd kill two birds with one stone and go to the drive-thru!
                                  --
 7-20-18

 Sleepwalking Contest
 Sponsored by: John Hamilton
© Joseph May  Create an image from this poem.

Meantime

Just breathe it in -
This side of happiness,
With smoking factories and dust.
Forget the scene
With flowing emptiness
(been mirrored to a hidden lust
In glassy pond
Of dreams and madnesses)
This would have never come again
The way beyond
That frames of sadness if
It'd forgotten the refrain:

The tragic ghost,
Who guards the tower -
The prison for non-standard souls.
It likes the most
Stealing the power
And filling up the "Tears' bowls"
At midnight eve,
When all sleepwalkers
Are up and pain themselves to love.
It can deceive
Them, silly talkers
About what's Under and Above.

And, being one
Of them, I promise
Not to forget my major aim,
But deal's been done.
Can't overcome this,
I'm tied to heretical flame.

I've lost myself. 
Again end ever.
And I can't blame all this on you.
My fault. Dead elf 
Again, however.
...But I still hope to find the clue


                                                  30.12.2012
                                                           NikA

Goodmorning Sleepwalkers

Goodmorning sleepwalkers
The restless night now stands behind you
Those long hours of darkness are replaced by the light
May the warmth embrace you
After the chill seeps to your bones
You shuffle with the fatigue
Of your constant nightly struggle
To finally rest in the radiance of the sun
Goodmorning, sleepwalkers
As you desperately try to recall why
How you ended up this way
Now with your heart awake
You run to nowhere

Receipes Abound....

Amixst the mix
as you're tossed in the mix
blended and stirred with the rest
not a very good receipe for love..........

The creation of a paranoid state of mind,

The doom talkers are dream stalkers
as we remain sleepwalkers.....
being fenced into security
caused by aggresive action

Beware of the wolf in lambs clothing....

Anais Nin An

"We don't see things as they are, we see them as we are."                                                                      -Anaïs Nin         

Comprehensive thoughts arrive in the dark as we, unlit 
keep pace like sleepwalkers in a world of drum and jangle 
we never get close to the admittance of what we feel  

long winter buffs and isolation
what are we made of,  
wood ?
 
Pinnacles of surprise are set in motion   
from the moment we perceive ourselves in others 
the precious pursuit of company arrives,   
at friendship's door  

Through grace and restitution, 
everything can be understood; 

All embracing views set through enlightened souls
we are all Columbuses of this world
forever searching for each others border, 
 
what are we made of ?  
blood and vein .   

Jan. 30, 2020

I Laugh And Smile


When somethings so right
We laughed like children
We were as big as the Universe
We laughed at the sun and smiled at the moon 
Choosing to return your smile on this April day
Something feels so right
The Universe echoes forever its beginning of time
I could take you home 
The tyrrant of truth at your comnand
There's voices in the sky
Remember the feeling of games we played
A teaspoon of bad is ok
Look down at yourself
Can you leave 
Then if you do please come home
In town sacrifice to the late sleepwalkers of the early dawn
A walk in the cold be nice or sooner  straight out of fiction
I believe in you 
Believe enough of yourself to be you
Cause we played out play 
Zoomed by teenager life
We couldn't wait to live the lie
Started already  forgetting to laugh
© Greg Slode  Create an image from this poem.

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