Dream. Poems - Poems about Dream.

A return to Normalcy As night comes, all are at ease We turn into slumber In the electric comfort Of artificiality that is our lives We revel in the false sense of our own Modern conveniences We forget the thin veil between Our electric life, truth of nature’s brutality Of our existence, we believe we are Immune to the...

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Ghosts that haunt empty spaces Like objects in cabinets that drift on window pains As light out places the things left in the corners of attics and In-between the walls and hidden faces, memories like objects that linger as bookmarks to someone's history, yellowing pages, trinkets and toys, old books and broken vases sit like old...

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In a pond, there lives a frog who looks and talks like a polywog. When he's asked, Why is this so? he looks up and says, I don't know. Now truth be told we're none the same and you can call it by any name; but it still holds true that a rose is a rose, so go and stick that up your nose! Now it's no matter if you're here...

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A wonderland awaits, For all who dare to enter, To fall down through the ground, And to the world surrender. There anything can dare to pounce, Or growl or prowl or prance, Or break out in black pustules, Spinning in a dance. A world unsure in peachy fuzz, Airs fizzing effervescent, Adds new dimensions, onion layers, A moon of seven crescents. Down falls the leaded...

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A movie set in Innisfree, so green and beautiful to see - the sun burned through the dew and mist, but it was in my head - did not exist. Flaming redhead lass, you will be missed. A voice from the old-country calls Dave, and there's nothing left for me to save, in L.A, twenty-first century. Her voice...

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Each time I’ve loved, the wound ran deep, A crimson truth I could not keep. So now my heart, in self-defence, Builds iron walls, immense, intense. When someone stirs that fragile flame, I whisper harshly, call my name, And drag myself from passion’s shore, To guard the ache I’ve felt before. I scold the spark, I dim the light, I shun the warmth, embrace...

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Full Moon Hiku 48 full moon mounts high silver light dances on waves~ dreams...

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Wakey wakey pinch me shake me don’t forsake me..was it just a trip..a mistake a half baked fake dream during a kip or after 46 days booked can’t be overlooked everyone letting rip..totally cooked…including us hooked into the ultimate cricketing drip Well hard to pip 25 days play..made my heart skip, jekyll..heckle and hyde..emotions flip a...

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As the world unfurls In REMbrandt's muddy pastel Little Susie curls her knees right on cue, credence that there's clear water here, a revival of Hawkins and Burton's swamp spell When I tried to leave her dream, she called back: 'Freddy, come save me' I know that it's cruel to replace her, though her night terrors are negotiated, I awaken her fears...

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As the dream king is sat at his throne... What am I to do whilst I am away? What then would befall my kingdom? There is still so much to do but yet, I am administered so little time. I am here now but what should take priority? This throne alike every footstep of mine bears...

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I woke from a dream feeling bereft, but there hadn't been a bicycle theft. My bike was there, so I went outside and found I don't know how to ride. ...

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There is a house on a tree-lined street with beautiful pink roses blooming over a white picket fence, there are children playing in the yard and laughing almost as if they exist There is a stone path walkway leading up to a wraparound front porch with a swing swaying in the breeze, as though someone just...

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I took another pill today To take the blinding pain away I drifted into loneliness The only friend I'll never miss I walked the line so I could see A spec dust to set me free Sadistic how I'm suferring This night between us, buffering I took a tab at half past two Can't you see I'm using you? I'm drifting into waves of bliss They...

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It is a night creamed by melting darkness. Fireflies are obsessed with secrecy tonight And dim their lights cautiously, frugally. Crickets and cicadas crepitate with muted Feelings, sallying wretched, orphaned tadpoles. I cringe from traditional horror, Wincing with the power of concern. Lest I forget, the moon travelled out of town. The constellation was keeping wake in the outer Universe, where stars were hired...

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Still I Reach – Memories of my Father. My Dad — a virtuoso, once hailed among India’s finest — was one of three English gentlemen credited with bringing Western classical music to India, helping to lay the foundation for a tradition that would echo for generations. His artistry shaped the sound of a nation, and his...

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