Long Rapid eye movement Poems
Long Rapid eye movement Poems. Below are the most popular long Rapid eye movement by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Rapid eye movement poems by poem length and keyword.
It seems you only appear whilst I am asleep,
teasing rapid eye movement to awake and weep.
You hide, so I wonder how beautiful you must be,
fulfil my desires and give me the chance to see.
I believe you have beauty, eyes have never seen,
which allures me to places I have never been.
Maybe you were sculpted by Michelangelo's hands,
DaVinci drew you a smile only he understands,
Rembrandt's hand trembled at the sight of your grandeur,
maybe you are the one, Raphael's angels adore.
Your image mirrors Cleopatra's unique class,
which fades at daylight, regrets begin to amass.
I do not know your name, Silent remains the tongue,
yet I fondly believe in my heart you belong.
Silent One
23 May 2018
Dreams.
Rapid Eye Movement, after the darkness;
At last you have finally got to sleep.
Your own private show, with no popcorn eating fool sat beside us.
It’s time for a film…they call it a dream.
A bright white light shines over in the distance;
Maybe this will be a premonition,
Or maybe a long distant memory, that you have forgotten;
Or maybe a nightmare, that you have tried in vain to keep hidden.
So wish me away, to a far-away place;
A land of hopeful stories, with a sunshine landscape.
A place where magical animals roam free
And you are free to be at peace.
A place full of wishes; a place full of dreams.
I dream of a world, full of beautiful people,
Who are righteous and interesting and there is no evil.
I have no need, for a nightmare tonight;
I need sunshine and to dream, of a happy life.
(C)2011 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Form:
i faint
tiles fall on me
bury me
words like star-floaters
i pop
but less shaky hands sizzle-scintillate
those hands arrange and rearrange
bittersweet flowers and baby’s breath
the rapid eye movement of a painter’s gun
passionate splotches
cover me before i blink sos
one serendipitous word
sensational bonus of fifty points
neon sign euphoriants — i lift
my opponent cheats
teases my tiles
through skeletal-fingers
rattling me
places them in a line
flicks her pointer
and the dominoes
tumble and turn
the dictionary and thesaurus bluster
until they lose their breath
my face burns
9/29/2018
Contest sponsored by Caren Krutsinger
Having engaged in unlawful
Sexual intercourse
The hunter inflicted suffering
Upon my dissent.
Trained for rapid eye movement
He showcased with a violent temper
And in conversation
How it was for the purpose
Of my moral improvement
That in his chasuble
He designed to subdue me.
What an obscenity
To doubt the machinery
By which my chastity
Supports my collected bodies!
The gun carriage moved
Backwards and forwards.
The old world thrushes
chatted in "la Casula".
His discipline hastened
A yawning fissure.
The gorge that would
Breach the structure
Of our relations
With divergent opinions.
The chaser chassed in
Cheap chauvinism.
The change in this
Chattel's luster
Could be seen in a
Chatelaine's cat's eyes.
Apocopated celebrants
Gathered for the sacrifice
I could tell by the
Marked interruptions
Gapping the framework
Of our forlorn continuity.
It scared me so
That I was not trusted
To trust myself
Or my resultant suffix.
Castitas, intercourse
Or crying became informal.
I longed for the days
Before the chasm
When secured
In composed type
We were the receiving set
Of a mounting foundation.
Now an uninformed attendant,
A collection of various sections
I indulge in mild beverage
And still find no quenching
The deep cleft of my harmed surface.
The sky outside is beginning to brighten
But Asteria hasn’t released her hold yet
Grabbing and devouring, your nightly Titan
And you'd kill for a dream that you could forget
No rapid-eye movement
No slow-wave state
No armor or shield from the night
The station is buzzing
The sleep train is late
In your crowded head, passengers fight
‘Cause there's no dreaming tonight
At the end of the day, you're a penny wiser
Tho none much stronger for your pain
You fought back the dogs and stepped thru the fire
With the promise of rest ingrained in your brain
No rapid-eye movement
No slow-wave state
No armor or shield from the night
The station is buzzing
But the train is late
In your crowded head, the voices fight
Where there's no dreaming tonight
No dreaming tonight --
Nobody can rest around here
No sleep mask to fight the vertical blinds
No nocturnal siren to entrance the ear
The sky outside is beginning to brighten
But insomnia hasn’t let up its hold yet --
Guess there’s no dreaming tonight.
Transmogrification into hideous golem like beast...
Seeks to lavish adoration,
especially after freshly deceased
cuz, upon yar flesh I will voraciously
devour thee asthma Christmas feast
mee haint not a cannibal,
cuz this humane anthropophagist
expresses love daintily, hungrily,
and with lips smacking and creased
devours thee charbroiled,
chargrilled, raw or greased.
The above worst case scenario if you
ignore serious warning
and interrupt my sleep
particularly during
rapid eye movement phase,
cuz vital to dream unconsciously deep
if left alone (meaning no awakening me
into foggy, groggy, and soggy state)
lest I manifest into a creep
more horrific (think)
by Dickens Uriah Heep.
Ordinarily mine Hyde bound diabolical
persona non grata
kept under wraps
dramatic malevolent manifestation
only appears only,
when requisite precious dream snaps
courtesy when some wise acre
foolish enough upon me noggin
doth drums, joyfully raps
itty in Blue knuckles (think drum),
cuz as An American in Paris
on permanent holiday courtesy lapse
of rhyme reason
(thank prefrontal lobotomy
to alleviate oppressive
anxiety linkedin with)
absence of necessary cerebral apps
induces predilection to relapse
into atavistic Geico caveman perhaps,
with courtesy bonafide frayed jockstraps
suddenly pops, crackles and snaps
in my body whereby sanity doth caps
eyes, that mashing monster aside,
ye ken count me mandate
fiend in Southeastern Pennsylvania
look no further then bleached lovely bones
formerly missus (sob...sob...sob...)
who thankfully no longer zaps.
Thus allowing, enabling,
and providing yours truly,
not ordinarily unruly
a bachelor Matthew Scott,
(but never known as Dani Boy) duly
available as coolie
cooking up house special wooly
mammoth and side order of tabouli.
Wynken Blynken and Nod???
(ah...oh methinks this pissant pooch woof lee
barked up the wrong tree –
reed don my mongrel friend)
This poetic endeavor doth not boast nor brag
to take digs on front page
headline grabbing news, nonetheless dag
nab bit significant dysfunction prevails
when bodily energy
does shutterfly like a black flag
without rapid eye movement,
this lix spittle chap
feels like an old hag
whereat every friggin bone (er)
in this straggly, mangy, and creaky ship
of state feels like jag
head shards piercing thine flesh
with pronounced jet lag
and reacts with
the slightest provocation
like a curmudgeonly
cranky compromised nag,
yet, this muttering mouth foaming
flea bitten doggone chow barker
bows down in (toto) obeisance
(like an obedient Dachshund)
tail wagging, trump petting,
and snout sniffing out provenance
on par with the smell of new sofa despite
fur vent angry ma
stiff masta paws zing
aghast at dog eared, glom haired,
and icky stained new furniture,
how petty, versus slumber
lest awakening the Cerberus within,
hence faux long enough
to excel as the top notch mix breed
boxer golden retriever terrier
male delivery postbag
(as taught at canine obedient school)
upon spilling contents,
the bulk of printed material
detailing importance,
sans letting sleeping
Canis lupus familiaris lye undisturbed,
especially after a bath
when pooch resembles
a limp dish rag
all apropos hot (gravy trained) relevant
topics for instance,
when feeling sleep deprived
detailing how to shepherd
and summon the snoop doggy dog
inchoate hounding gnarly
Marley elusive dream
fostering feigning fearsome nightmare
asper getting lost without a name tag.
Walking under overcast sky
I trod through drifted snow,
no longer bearing allegiance
to platitudes disguised as wisdom
spun in gingerbread houses of the holy,
an asymmetrically challenged splinter
on a white horizon,
leaving a trail of footprints
on my frozen path.
Behind me lies the ranch house,
shutters closed in rapid eye movement,
dreaming of acres of wheat and barley
gleaming in July's opaque sunlight.
They will not know I've gone,
will assume I'm out walking.
Only as gray dusk settles
on the porcelain landscape
will they wonder where I am.
In my dark coat and cap,
shouldering a pack,
I move past the fence posts
where snow mounds like the litter
of attic antiques reciting memories
in foreign tongues.
One leafless elm bears witness
to my departure, waving
in benign breeze.
Lest my tears freeze I hold them back.
Though my footprints sprint backwards
in the charcoal of sacrosanct earth
I must stay to my gospel:
to the naked eye the flat distance
may only promise glaciers,
but I seek the aurora borealis
hidden in daylight's dim emergence,
where the crocus blooms
in barren existence.
11/29/18
And here I am again completely weird
But the clock it just keeps on ticking
But not the only reason why I'm tired
And my eyes they keep on flickering
When outside all these flashing lights
The sound of cars keep whishing on by
It's no good all these sleepless nights
If I could get some blink in shut eye
I keep on telling myself sweet dreams
Though most of the time they are vivid
It's like I'm jumping in and out of scenes
And only leaves one restless and livid
Yeah I defiantly need some more r,e,m's
It's like this bad case of sleep depravation
I'm often asked where is it that it all stems
Though I've never been one for relaxation
I need some more rapid eye movement
If I could get some of those sweet lullaby’s
Of course that would be an improvement
To those bags that are under my eyes
Thoughts keep going round in my head
If I could give some rest to my aching bod
I've just got to start getting myself to bed
Though still trying to find the land of nod
Something wanted to write about for a while
couple of verse not to happy with might update in futre
just getting some thoughts out of my head
im sure a lot of people can relate to this
when in my ywenties did not need as much
but so much going on at times find it hard to relax
get in to that third stage of sleep
WRITTEN BY MY SELF DAVID SCOTTFE MARCH (2013)
INSPIERD BY ALL THE COOL SOUP MEMBERS ,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,
Commencement writing this poem
began December 24th: 08:04:03 PM
ended December 24th: 09:23:17 PM.
Soon Auld Lang Syne
sung bidding goodbye
adieu two thousand nineteen
uttered from every gal and guy
transfixing living mortals
with good cheer well nigh,
while awesome pyrotechnics
light up night sky.
All across world wide web
hope springs eternal
rocking and rolling creatures
woke out their hibernal
phase, where new year
rings optimism jockeys
to thwart diabolical, infernal
offal, venal... bare beer bellies
race with full bladders
elbowing way to nearest urinal.
Infinitesimal metaphorical eye blink
yet,... utopian wishes
transcending personal resolutions,
while champagne glasses clink
booze legitimated, liberated
to quaff another drink
who knows mankind, and
all species may become extinct
climate change if anthropomorphized...,
a party spoiler rat fink
aye bet same phenomena,
that also caused human missing link
wild hypothesis, I admit
yours truly did misthink
merely speculating as
fingers spuriously plink
MacBook keyboard
upon completion, I will uplink
rhyme without reason,
than succumb to zeeland,
where dreams conjured courtesy
rapid eye movement lidded wink.
Though veritable stranger
to thee dear reader,
I read dull admit,
nonetheless hope ya summon true grit
threading thru maze of life adhering
to credos, dogma, ethics... mostly legit
yet take to the activist streets
if necessary and ABSOLUTELY vote
if prior to election day,
ye complete eighteenth orbit
cuz, commander in chief,
he will not concede nor quit
power monger loathe
to relinquish presidency
grounding country into
Grade A s*¡t
(use your imagination, and
sure call this mister a twit.
All joking aside,
yours truly wishes ye well
write and share, cuz
no doubt you got lots to tell
plus the writing process
cathartic, fantastic, therapeutic
to express concerns, emotions,
far out predictions... eke quell
or greater than mine,
an ordinary garden variety fell
ho...ho...ho... within Schwenksville I dwell.