Long Dream up Poems
Long Dream up Poems. Below are the most popular long Dream up by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Dream up poems by poem length and keyword.
The dreadful morning'echoes die out...
chasing the mist into infinity;
Doralice,
you dream up the wildest things
in the same wrong way!
Doralice,
dreamers hide secrets without discretion;
dreamers use only their imagination:
they overlook the promise for the future so near...
they refuse to understand that their own fear
leads to regrets,
or to defeats!
Through the hours of your fantasy-nights,
you wander in strange fairy-lands...
only existing in your dreamy mind;
the morning after you shiver with cold!
Doralice,
no handsome,tall prince will quickly pop out
of that dream...you dreamed!
Doralice,
no magic word will create
a lovely wonder-land!
Doralice,
dreamers burn up their precious lives;
Doralice,
lovers can have both love and dreams!
this year no party
covid orchestrating
social distancing ~
To make your 2020 birthday extra fabulous
plan ahead your strategy in great detail
you may need to pick up a few special things
like items for a fancy meal to celebrate in style
a favorite drink for toasting to your health
ingredients to whip up a cake to decorate
while counting birthday candles one by one
You’ll be ready to greet the day
and dress for a leisurely nature walk
check your mailbox for some cards
then your emails for birthday wishes
receive phone calls from good friends and
schedule video chats with loved ones
Arrange the table festivelike
worthy of a fancy gathering
set it all up for the guest of honor
dream up a wish blow out your candles
At night watch an exceptional movie on tv
lighting incense for instant ambiance
stretch out lounging in your favorite chair
and listen to nostalgic tunes
invite your muse for uplifting poetry
savor the night away enjoying every minute
to welcome in with gusto your new year
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
THE DREAM POLICE
INVADE MY HEAD
WHEN I STARTED TO DREAM,
WHILE ASLEEP IN BED.
THEY TRIED TO ACCUSE ME
OF UNAUTHORIZED THOUGHTS.
I TURNED THE TABLES
WITH WHAT I WAS TAUGHT.
MY TWO HEADED DRAGON
SNUCK UP FROM BEHIND,
SNATCHED THEM BOTH,
I SAID, YOUR ASS IS NOW MINE.
THIS IS MY WORLD,
I MAKE THE RULES.
YOUR UNAUTHORIZED ENTRY,
IS VERY UN-COOL.
MY TWO HEADED DRAGON
STARED DOWN IT'S FEAST,
AWAITING MY SIGNAL
TO DEVOUR THE BEASTS.
WHEN YOU DON'T REPORT BACK,
THEY'LL KNOW SOMETHING WENT WRONG.
ONE THING FOR SURE,
THEY CAN SEE THAT YOUR GONE.
I'LL DREAM UP A POEM,
HOW YOU WERE TRAPPED IN A MAZE.
LOST FOR YEARS,
MAYBE MONTHS,
EVEN DAYS.
I TURNED MY BACK,
STARTED WALKING AWAY.
I DON'T KNOW WHAT HAPPENED,
AFTER THAT,
ON THAT DAY.
REGARDING MY INTELLECTUAL
PROPERTY
RIGHTS.
MY TWO HEADED DRAGON
ALWAYS HAS THE LAST BITE.
How did the jungle get here?
Did it come on a train
like an old time circus
rolling in before dawn
while we splattered safety-nets
with doomsday drivel.
A rainforest has invaded;
has manifested out of alarm and
a far too high quotient
of native dumbness.
The clacking of parrots
mutes the lowing of milk cows,
only the cicada drone on
happy to click along.
This green thunder is oppressive.
The domestic canopies of backyards
are sprouting mythic Triffids.
Grass is getting spikey and carnivorous.
Tabby cats are abducted
by prowling panthers.
Giant sloths hang from the hedgerows.
Did we dream up this primal Eden?
Did we cancel
the regular unpredictable weather
of predictable Ohio?
Global Warming
could never have appeared to be real
if we had not made it so
by thinking it so,
and as so many here
think very little -
we had it coming.
The name of this poem is "…" So the first line is shown.
The system would not let me put that in the title box. Sew, so...
...
Hear and now, know here and now, no! No!
It is all wrong, “aint” that a fact?
No. Really… no.
Aint, paint, saint, I feel faint.
! Yes. Use that one. ! Use it again!!! (! Symbol and then…)
How about a ? ? (? Symbol for question and then ? for punctuation correct)
That is odd. Let us not discuss txting. (texting, xing, dead when driving)
Small “c”, big “C”, capitalized.
What about the rest of the letters?
Are numbers okay to use, if I forget how to spell, to, two, too much?
Paints in the box. The letters the shapes the textures of life.
Smell them. Take them in with every wiff, whiff? (Onomatopoeia, can you sing that?)
Double “dd”, double “tt”, double “oo”, wrong word score.
Spear, fear, mear, mere, “find the thesaurus”.
Have you ever spent time reading one?
You should.
The dictionary was badly burned in 1963.
No one nose, no's, knows who set the fire…
We did not land on the moon.
It was a sad day, but our people came home.
Safe.
The world moved on…
Remember when they gave spelling tests?
Three times each and every word, every line, get one wrong then do nine!
Are you still wondering the name of this poem? (...)
Laughter is the best place to begin looking at ourselves.
Mixed paint in a tray. Pencils, pens, art in words…Free Speech!
Hold on to your flag...
We, all of us… build sentences,
erect paragraphs and dream up skyscraper stories.
We swirl and whirl words around until they fit together,
The effort to find the perfect match.
The ultimate combination of acceptance and understanding.
Authors don’t get to stand and sing on stage, we must be quiet.
Storytellers rarely receive the time they need to fix the uncertain details.
Maps are lost, tiny jewels fall between the cracks,
but swiftly pens capture, miracles and even an epiphany.
Patient warriors, working for no one on earth,
fixed on collecting nothing more
than the truth.
Listen
To the sigh
Snowflake, breathing
Brilliant joy
Through the thoughts
Into the sparkling
Blue skies
Listen
To the leaves
Crackling, coloring
Autumn peace
With amber, gold
And scarlet dreams
Sweet serenity
Listen
To the grace
Reassuring, enchanting
Each soft moment
With light,
Flavored by music
Chorus of love
Listen
To the wonder
Full of praise, promises
Soothing away
The pain, fading
From the feelings
Revealing contentment
Listen
To the stars
Stunning the night
Twinkling bright
Like a candle
Awakening hearts
Blessing the thoughts
Listen
To the summer
Abiding inside
Where never is not
Even thought of
Grace – real hope
Invites the Sonlight
Listen
To the words
Spoken by God
Who knows us
Better than we know
Ourselves, our spark
Forever glows
Listen
To the faith
Who shimmers
With inspirational
Poetry, prose, poems
Blending blessings
Breaking through doubt…
Perfection – listens
To the screams of a belief
Far truer than any conviction
A belief that reminds us all
He is with us, there in the heart
Forever abiding – peace
Like nothing on earth can dream up
Listen – and believe!
Dream up another Christmas:
with snowflakes softly falling as tiny fragments of a comet,
that have traveled a millennia of light years,
to reach your cold hands awaiting their warmth,
before someone else sees them descending like fireflies...
And with the merriest,
envision a garden of winter's flowers:
with lovely orchids, lenten roses, honey suckle and amaryllis;
and pray that the blizzards will not trifle with your affections,
and bury them under its deepest snow...
And which other gift can surpass this?
Showers of the smallest comet:
running across the December sky,
a splendid display of a thousands lights,
through long streams of glowing dust...
Dream up what you wish and desire,
because no other season is jollier,
as you put up that Christmas Tree
by the widest window, looking over the snowy street, to thrill everybody;
and wouldn't the tiniest star land on this evergreen's tree top?
And with the merriest spirit marvel at the scenery of a sensational and glorious night,
which is really cold, but pleasant to watch with the blithest eyes,
to witness the appearance of a star that will brighten what was lusterless;
and wouldn't we be glad for the coming of the mightiest of kings...a King who will dwell
among us! And He will speak kindly of His Father living in the highest Heaven...
When he was young and the fear he’d dream of monsters filled his mind with dread
his mom made him a Dreamcatcher and hung it above his bed.
“Whenever you start to dream, “ she said. “That’s when this Dreamcatcher’s work begins…it catches all your bad dreams and only let’s the good ones in.”
That Dreamcatcher worked like magic!
From that moment all his dreams were sweet and all his nights were calm….
and he often wondered…was the magic in the Dreamcatcher…
or was the magic in his mom?
When she was young…waking up Saturday mornings…
she felt excited…happy…blessed…
Her dad would make her pancakes….
In any size, or shape or color she’d request.
Her dad was an artist…a magician with the batter…
whatever she could dream up…he’d create…
and she couldn’t wait til he was finished to see the magic on her plate.
When she thinks back to those Saturday mornings…
to the best pancakes she ever had…
she often wonders…was the magic in those pancakes…
or was the magic in her dad?
Isn’t it amazing how often the simplest act a parent does…
be it bad dreams they are catching…
or pancake wishes they are granting….
can charm their child’s sleep at night…
and make their morning so enchanting.
As a child, under the infinite sunless night;
I used to lie on a bed of thick grass
in the front yard just to stare up at night
and its uncountable flickering stars.
The cool breeze tendrils would caress
me with tender love and a lullaby it would sing.
It would gift me so much comfort.
I would dream up all sorts of stories.
I just loved the starry night.
Now I still steal moments taking pleasure
inhaling the air allowing it to waltz around me
with a wisp of earth fragrant magic
staring at that same heaven.
Awaking a thirst filling me
with whispers of tales
and a palette of imagination
from nature's quandary.
1/27/2020
People are murdered, yes, but no one was murdered here today.
People are mean.
Not always.
People are unfair, unkind, disrespectful.
Who are you hanging around with?
Let’s think a bit about what Albright said.
We can choose to be upbeat, positive, happy.
We can strive toward enthusiasm, happiness, hope.
Cut those people loose. You can do better!
Let’s take a walk. Feel the sunshine? See the happy dandelions?
There goes a squirrel who is delighted with the bird feeder.
Who could dream up anything perkier than that daffodil?
Have you ever seen a more refreshing green?
How are you feeling?
I am feeling depressed, down, dank, dark.
What is going on?
I don’t have any friends like you. I don’t know how to have joy.
Stick with me, kid. I am here to reteach. Look at that sky!
How do you do that? She asks me.
Do what?
Remain positive.
I think for a second, then I reply. “I focus on positive things.”
She is silent for a few steps. Then she asks “That’s it?”
“Try it,” I tell her. “It is enough.”