Long Daydream Poems

Long Daydream Poems. Below are the most popular long Daydream by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Daydream poems by poem length and keyword.


A Mother

A MOTHER

I often sit and daydream and
wonder what it would’ve been like
to grow up with a mother’s love 
instead of fearing how hard she will bite.

I wonder what a day would seem
being small with a hurt little thumb
to have a mother to kiss your pain away
instead of being laughed at and told you’re dumb

What would it feel like to come home from school
to some homemade cookies or even a cake
maybe a smile and a kind word
instead of venom spit from a snake

I’d seen other mothers act like they do
with their kids on a regular day
No screaming or yelling or smashing glass
and those kids didn’t feel just in the way

So soon I left home much too young
with no real thought to life
I just had to escape the nightmare there
until maybe dad found a different wife.

That day did come but not soon enough
the damage had already been done
the brain reacts and does what it knows
in this situation no one has won

I never knew security, love or trust
it sounds sad but all wasn’t that bad
I switched on my cruise control for most of my life
and now there’s no memories to be had

That’s my fee for taking the easy way out
for not believing in the good
too afraid and too damaged to take a step out
and demand people treat me as I knew they should.

January 2018
Form: Rhyme


Jester

Love is like the sun,
Is this saying true?
Then crushes are like the moon,
This I believe do you?

I blushed at your every movement,
To be honest I stalked.
Reminiscing every little moment,
Shared in every little place.

Your long legs I do admire,
Eyes as fine as wine.
Lips as pink as roses,
Fingers long and slender.

Sometimes in my dreams you appear,
Other times in nightmares you come.
But thoughts of you light me up,
Full of bliss I become.

To you I'm shy to talk.
Over you do I swoon.
Sometimes forgetting how to walk,
Making myself a complete fool.

I daydream of you,
In our own love paradise,
Laying in your embrace,
Being showered with gentle caresses.

My girlfriends  tell me its not love,
That it is childish infatuation.
But I call them liars,
And always walk away.

I sing songs with your name,
In my head obviously,
Even formed a ship name,
JESTER to represent our love.

But sometimes I get caught up,
That I often forget ,
That this is one sided,
That you don't even know I exist. 

I hope you notice me one day, 
I pray my first kiss is you.
And my heart will finally be calm 
And my mind as clear as day.
© Jess Ica  Create an image from this poem.

Random Thoughts 59 the Lento

**Lento**

"A Lento consists of two quatrains with a fixed rhyme scheme of abcb, defe as the second 
and forth lines of each stanza must rhyme.  To take it a step further, but not required, try 
rhyming the first and third lines as well as the second and forth lines of each stanza in this 
rhyming pattern: abab, cdcd.  The fun part of this poem is thrown in here as all the FIRST 
words of each verse should rhyme. There is no fixed syllable structure to the Lento, but 
keeping a good, flowing rhythm is recommended." (ShadowPoetry.com)


Daydream


Hands wrapped tightly, I have her in a strangle hold
Plans, to watch the blood drain from her eyes.
Enhanced desires emerge in this daydream, I 
Dance and laugh at her demise

Afflicted by this treacherous and spiteful wench,
Conflicted, no longer thinking with a clear mind. 
Addicted to the image depicted in this daydream.
Evicted, her life force drained and I feel fine.



Jared Pickett
4/26/2012
Asavvy1
Form:

3 Am

Lift me higher than the clouds 
I’m shoved into dark shrouds
We blend like coffee and Boba
I haven’t seen any flaw
In you…in you…deep in you
I’m missing my other shoe
We woke up in each other’s embrace
I still have mercy and His grace
It all happened at 3 AM
It all happened at 3 AM

I wear you
I smell you
I snuggle you
I taste you
What else d’you expect?
I crawl on you like an insect
What else d’you expect?
I dream of you
I suckle you
I think of you
I stick to you

My eyes are weeping
Deepening in my ruins
My mouth is dripping
Thrown away in a billion bins
I find myself inspired when you are around
You are brilliant…sky from ground…

If I were yours, I’d be happy as hell
If I were yours, I’d get outta my shell 
Listenin’ to iheartradio on fleek
Actin’ like a drunk, foolish geek

And this all happens 3 AM
And this all happens 3 AM
What’s wrong with me?
Laughing out loud at 3 AM
Drunk off of happiness
Drunk off of joyfulness
Free like a sun-shining sea
Let me go because I’m a seagull in the sky
Because…I can’t go on with you – a burden I can’t deny

I used to love someone like you
I used to love someone like you
I can’t recall now
Somehow,
You made me sink in my daydream all over again

I deserve paradise 
Making love to you in ecstasy
I roll the dainty dice

Vogueish design got me wondering:
What if I was famous and rich?
You’re my trend and you got me pondering:
Why do I feel like a wrecked game glitch?

Demolishing destruction in a minute’s time
Constructive chit-chatter is what I need
I need a friend by my side…I’m an almost rhyme
I have humility at least, not your greed

Why all this writing at 3 AM?
Because I’m that awesome, who gives?
Why can’t it be at 3 PM?
Because it wouldn’t be as effective…

You tell me you like root beer float
Whatever floats your demented boat
I’ll be wearing my 1980’s, fuzzy coat
Sorry, honey, I don’t vote…I don’t vote
At 3 AM…at 3 AM…
But, I do vote for poetry at 3 PM
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Dreaming Big For One More Day

 
“For in dreams we enter a world that is entirely our own. 
Let them swim in the deepest ocean or glide over the highest cloud.”
                                                     _J.K. Rowling

Here is my story.... it seems
I have always been full of dreams and fancies
oh, I don't deny the horrors we are living through at the moment
but find myself dreaming often to escape reality
I have always had a vivid imagination since a little girl
my mother used to say I was born that way
grandma said that I had an old soul
sometimes-   I find that my daydream is a trance
perhaps a vision from the past . . . or words to a poem
maybe a project that needs completion-  or just thoughts
but what matters most to me is locked within somewhere
I have been searching for it all of my life
and whenever I think that I have found it  
it slips away lost again until I find it in a dream I dream
but I have a lot to be thankful and grateful for in my life
and so I dwell on living in the moment
and that means living another minute, hour
and dreaming big for one more day

_______________________
March 26, 2020


Poetry/Narrative/Dreaming Big For One More Day
Copyright Protected, ID 20-1239-241-03
All Rights Reserved, 2020, Constance La France


Submitted into the contest, What Matters Most To You
sponsor, Chantelle Anne Cook 

First Place
Form: Narrative


A Mary Grotto

She slips quietly into the semi-circle of the grotto,
reverently lights a votive candle.
A pretty girl, her form drags my eyes
away from the plaster virgin
into a carnal daydream.

She does the whole Catholic thing,
and every ritual gesture seems natural.
Rosary beads guide her fingers,
as she knits the face of Jesus perhaps
or her boyfriend - hard to tell.

As she intones, her body
flows around my half-shut eyes.
I am drawn to her naive sexuality.

When I look again, she is crying
(some loved one badly needs her prayers).
Her passionate supplications are oblivious
to voyeuristic scrutiny.  She and the virgin Mary
seem magnified within a small halo of light.

I check myself to see if I am shrinking –
I am.
Bastard! I thought.
I expect The Holy Mother of God 
agreed.

Premium Member Don'T Quit Your Daydream

(This, written from the viewpoint of a young lady missing her beau at war)

When in a moment's sweet repose
I paused in midst of thought and knew
it was this place in time you chose
to stop ... and think upon me too.

Your favorite poem was on my lips
and melodies swept through my mind
until they stopped and softly kissed
the dreams each memory provides.

Then, through a fog of thoughts you strode
and reached as if to beckon me,
"You are the blushed and fragile rose
that in my heart will always be".

With that you smiled and turned away -
in daydreams born another day ...

(in iambic tetrameter)
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member A Quicky

A Quicky

I am on seven heaven;
I have been driven
To write. 
I stay up all night,
Sometimes till daylight
Just for a quicky rhyme, 
Writing one line at a time
While I’m still in my prime.
Depends on my mood,
When I have an attitude.
My writes can look like I brood,
Or ready to scream;
Or in a daydream.
I’m Aphrodite 
In a sexy nightie
 out of fashion
full of passion.
Or I’m a bird, 
A tiny Hummingbird,
Mimicking Mockingbird.
Or a Thunderbird
Convertible that never stalls
with wide whitewalls.

Please don’t misunderstand,
A lot I planned.
I stay up all night,
Sometimes till daylight
Just for a quicky rhyme.


4/2/2020

Just musing 

Had to add a little humor to your life and a little less bad reality.
© Eve Roper  Create an image from this poem.
fun
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member Into a Daydream

Our lady cashier, Karen, daydreamed again
right past me in a nearby grocery ,
her fingers fumbling over my selection
of cold cuts, bagels,and lemon powder
while a haze seemed
to grasp her thoughts under some frozen 
moment of autistic innocence 
like a crystallized trance.

So I followed her inside a dreamscape 
while Karen narrated 
this countless parade of jays hovering 
above a sea of orange dahlias . In a flash,
she mumbled about Einstein,  asking this man,
" Oh, did your growth hormone intake work
 based on relativity's law?" Gently, from a distance ,
she relayed how Joplin wept, tending
children in a monastery--- an abstract recording
through Karen's uncut version of life's tinges.

Faltering in her own universe, she lisped a melody,
"If this were truly heaven, then death
would be it's own reward." And this lady 
gently fixed her tidy uniform, 
then peered into my eyes ...unseen by anyone
except myself in the din of late afternoon.
" Oh it's you, "Will that be paid in cash, 
through coupons or credit card?" Smiling,
I gave some money and  walked away...

moved by this rare instance of naturalnesss.


11/28/2016
The Best of James Tate Contest..Space Cadet
Form: Narrative

Premium Member Moving On

The recent lockdown certainly made family the center of everything - from fun to daily irritations. But after a month of being at college - which I know, objectively, isn’t long - those memories seem like echoes from another life.

I love the sudden privacy college has provided - like I’ve personally rediscovered something seemingly new.

I get calls from high school friends who were close as skin a few short weeks ago and there seems to be a disconnect which certainly isn’t because they’ve been “replaced” with new friends.

I’ve always been slow to mesh with new people so I’m trying hard to look engaged in social situations. “Get OUT there and meet people!”, everyone tells us. So I’m working on it - practicing my best fake, friendly smile in mirrors for when deep down inside I want to run.

At least I’ve hit it off with one of my suite-mates, Leong (thank god). She‘s from Macao, China (the “Las Vegas” of Asia) which is about 41 miles from where my family used to live in Shenzhen. When I started talking to her in Cantonese she shrieked with joy - now we can evaluate everyone and everything with delightful discretion.

My classmates are SO smart that classes move really, *REALLY* **FAST**.
“Everyone got that?” the professor says, *no frantic hands waived* 
“Moving ON!”

If I daydream for 30 seconds - I come back and - “WAIT, huh? - what are we talking about?” It’s not like high school at ALL - it’s actually scary.

So I’m moving on.

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