Long Dreamtime Poems
Long Dreamtime Poems. Below are the most popular long Dreamtime by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Dreamtime poems by poem length and keyword.
as your fingers
brush my skin
petals of memory
are pushed apart,
I am left a sigh
drenched in want
I cross my legs
not knowing,
their angles would
draw your attention
your eyes lined
the curve of degree,
I almost knew
when your mouth
smiled hello,
the pull of your tongue
wrapped my need
In smoked pearls,
and legs of oak
turned to butter,
spent they melted
to knell supplication
your eyes begged sleep
but a desire still whispered
with a listing tongue of fire
I stroked the line
between dreams and
your sleeping face,
I stirred the coals
in your Dreamtime
to ignite
as my fingers brush
you ablaze,
my lips rub
the velvet embers
I smile as you arise
and then I fire,
at your first touch
I am floating as ash
in our wake
I landed on the bottom of the deepest lake on earth
My will to live had escaped me
Eyes wide shut, tho my spirit remained
Confused in death, much as in life
Green specs of membrous memories floated under my eyelids
Happy thoughts- skipping flat, smooth, dolomite discs
Into Lake Superior, screaming "watch me, watch me"
To mom & dad vigilant on the picnic bench above me
Nodding their heads
Eliciting roars of approval at 7-8-9 skips
Before losing speed, distance and the will to go on
Letting go, travelling to some distant universe
Where another can hold such wonder in their hands
Where another
Can hold such wonder
In their hands
11/29/18
Sleepy slumber stumbles
Gloomy gazing grumble
Telling touchy tumble
Heaving heartbeat heavy
Trailing topsy-turvy
Limping lowly lousy
Dreamtime drowsy dancing
Inner impulse inching
Bedtime bounty breezing
Loiter little lazy
Bravely blooming bluntly
Corner coming crazy
Somnolence signs siesta
Appealing agenda
Floating funny fiesta
Slipping sliding sleepy
Eyeballs easing easy
Diving distance dreamy
Fleeting floating feeling
Lost last light lingering
Seeking sound slumbering
Snoozing snoring slumber
Siesta swiftly stammers
Blurry bearing bumper
Leon Enriquez
14 December 2014
Singapore
i.
I had lost the entirety
of my muchness
I watched a white rabbit
dart in my peripheral
as walkabout found my feet,
the Red Queen laughs raucously
dangling me at the end of a Scepter
ii.
Tweedle Dee and Tweedle dum
know I am not Alice,
and that this is not my home
iii.
Arnhem calls to me
as the earth trembles
briefly,
I feel the beating spirit
through the bush,
and it tempts me with magic
flowing from the Dreamtime
iv.
so I wait
stroking the rainbow serpent
but ever watchful
of escape to a place
my heartbeats home
in the land of Never and Oz
Many place names in Australia reek of notoriety and oppression
Where massacres took place, involved first nation native population,
men, women and children, demonstrates gross inhumane expression
Many of these place names remain, Bones Knob, Murderers Flat, Skull Creek
are mapped in a university publication
The area where my family resided
may similarly have followed, same infamous identification
My paternal Scottish ancestors, original settlers on our family farm from eighteen sixties,
a time of many massacres
With axes sweat and labour cleared the timber, populated the land with sheep
Were they involved in a massacre? And if so, my father, was it a secret he did keep ?
Existing on the nearest road a signpost declaring Butchers Ridge
only a couple of hundred metres from the old original family home
Allegedly named after a horse called Butcher
far and wide he purportedly did roam
When I was young, the story I was told about this horse
he repeatedly escaped from his owners farm, crossed a bridge
Was always discovered on a sloping piece of land,
hence the area was given the name of Butchers Ridge
A different story of the naming of this area which makes more sense
was revealed by mother after father passed away
A massacre took place giving this area its name, about which my father never spoke
did my father bear inherited shame ? It's history now no one can really say
One full moonlit night, around the time of one unable to sleep
decided to arise, some teenage pleasure I would seek
Go fishing catch a big bag of speckled brown trout
from the stream there known as Butchers Creek
Halfway between the house and my intended destination
an eerie whooshing sound right above my head
Look up !! Nothing visible on this very still clear night
Very quickly reverse my fishing decision !!! Hastily run back to the safety of my bed !!!
I have spoken to several first nation dreamtime elders about this weird eerie sound
i experienced on that distant fishing full moonlit night
They say its first nation native spirits venting anger
thus responsible for my fear. I think they may be right
In the patient stillness
of a mid-winter’s night,
whispers from nature
ride the drifting winds;
trees whisper secrets
into the moonlight’s rays
and my spirit revels within the din,
of Gaia’s soul sounds.
Paw pads impress the diamond snow
that shimmering upon the air,
casts itself upon fir and oak
to rest upon both hill and bough.
Within her arteries,
soft down and fur
of breath slowed down
to passive crawl;
the heartbeat of the supine
rabbit echoes her pulse.
Gaia beds her children down,
in hibernation’s dreamtime sleep;
her freshly blanketed breast,
exudes tranquility.
12-20-19
STRAND SPECIAL 6,any form ,any theme Poetry Contest
Brian Strand
Loss of Identity
Generation after generation
They shared the land given to them
Children were born
Elders died
All on the land given them in the Dreamtime
Time passed
Unwelcome visitors came to give them aid
They did not ask for the help
They did not need the help
Those people never wanted to change
But change was forced upon them
Schools taught new ways
Erased the lessons of the time before
Those who didn’t change were punished
They were killed for their beliefs
Now, their villages sit quiet
Closed by the people who claimed to help them
The lessons taught by the elders are long gone
The kids no longer play in the bush
The homes of uncounted generations are gone
Stories of the elders are no longer told
Their culture has been destroyed
The people of the village no longer exist
Now, they could use our help
Help to be who they really are
Help to have their land
Their homes
Their culture
Their identities
Finally returned to them
I watch
as whispers
of smoke
curl up into
the stratosphere
then, it was as if
the night seemed to yawn,
a great mouth of darkness,
swallowed the day
another moment, was recorded
and cataloged
to be digested by the future
but always, held in a voided past
as the smoke
over history thickened
and night and day
turned to meet,
face to face
and back to back
I wondered why it is
that so many people
live in the past ?,
when we are all laying
over the silver hands
of a timepiece,
in a pocket
made of moments
shining up ahead
is a dreamtime of
‘Could Be’s’
and it awaits,
calling us all
into the fall of tomorrow
The road seems endless
Nighttime quickens fear
Unfamiliar, a stranger
In this bus
The air, humid and thick
With danger, angry
Glances swim upstream
Avoiding fallen hate
At first, some were friendly
As hours and days passed
They disappeared, maybe
Changing direction, or
Means of transport, as
Streetcars rattled down the
Middle of the road, always
Heading back to sadness
Women keep their heads
Cloaked tightly, not drawing
Attention, counting on safety
In numbers, various maladies
Afflicted many, silently praying
God is leading them to help
At various moments, fights break
Out, angry words, punches, flotsam
Sometimes wildly swinging knives
Clanging off the sides, a middle
Peace ensues, imaginary walls
Erected, unspoken truce shifts
Uncomfortably
The end, unknown...
Sun time, fun time
Staying out that one time
Pray time, playtime
Cute flowers in May time
Noontime, croon time
Waiting to see moon time
Munch time, brunch time
Going out for lunch time
Night time, right time
Finding place to write time
Date time, great time
Wonder why I’m late time
Sleep time, reap time
Silently I weep time
Wake time, bake time
Walking near the lake time
Springtime, sing time
Flying on the swing time
School time, pool time
Staying calm and cool time
Dreamtime, beam time
Enjoying ice cream time
Peacetime, cease time
Together let’s seize time
Showtime, snow time
I feel all aglow time
Bedtime, wed time
Nothing should be said time
Teatime, me time
Going out to sea time
Prime time, rhyme time
Let us reduce crime time
Nap time, rap time
If just I could trap time
Good time, food time
Wish I understood time
Pastime, class time
Let’s enjoy one last time
Wartime, store time
Can you give me more time?
written on 08.11.2021