Short Morpheus Poems

I hunger for rest
Like Vishnu and Morpheus 
Deep life giving sleep

By Robb A. Kopp...

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Awake, with a smile
Embraced in arms of Morpheus
A beautiful dream



Date written and posted: 04/19/2016...

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The west wind is cruel
It appears to stir curtains
When I close my eyes
O Hypnos rush to me 
with
Morpheus and Thanatos....

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Nightmare's foul bouquet,
Effluent of restless slumber,
Ochre smog, mind bog,
Cleansing chill breath from newborn day



Entry to "quadro" contest

12th January 2017...

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How endless seems the night sweet hydromel of mine 

Morpheus, Erato and all the muses intertwine

A wind of amber and musk from your mouth escapes

Emerge from your nebulous dream my love, my kiss awaits...

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The sound of rain
Acts as a balm to my overtaxed brain
Is a sweet lullaby 
Relaxes my bewildered mind
The soothing downpour
Washes all my worries away
Induces me to be in the arms of Morpheus
In a peaceful repose....

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As one closed his eyes

Rhythm starts in unison

Phrenic sense adored

Reveled in the space

Along the composition

of the universe

A wild trance of belief

Amidst the din in a burg

A recurrent dream 


03/25/16


*Morpheus is a Greek god of dreams...

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     At the tail-end of a drawn-out day, I feel 
  the gentle arms of Morpheus enfolding me.
                    I have not one but two 
         soft cheeks to kiss goodnight, first,
             my sleepy doe-eyed baby, then...
 the big one clutching the little; my better half.
...

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Too see again Saint Elmos's fire
prance and dance on moonlit wings
See  clouds aboil in starry skies
as sleep oercomes my tired eyes
and Morpheus turns all to dreams
To waken now so many turns
Away and past what somehow seems
Unreal as Elmo's  fire burns
so cold in rushing ignored winds
Of memories returned...

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Until applicable law is enshrined, 
the ultimate right is defined.
     I am pillared now.

Until my voice, speak as my voice, 
     the world is lost.
I am the celestial star that guides your path.
     Morpheus is divine.
__________________|
VERLENA S. WALKER
PENNED ON JUNE 17, 2014!
FOR SHINE WITH YOUR NAANI CONTEST!...

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My life is caught in the matrix,
Dodging bullets of pain and passion,
Choose red pill,
Or green pill,
I ingested both with a glass of dirty water,
Damaging my system,
No Neo, Trinity, or Morpheus,
To save the day,
I am immortal,
Only to those who can't harm me,
0010011,
The coding of my life,
Even I can't understand it......

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The hour is late and my mind has been spent
my head is hollow, filled with spider’s fluff…
No, no that’s not exactly what I meant,
but I’ve used up my word ration on… stuff.
I wrote all day long, I’m thinking in song
and poetic forms are coming out wrong.
Morpheus, I believe I need some sleep.
Tell me, where do you keep the counting sheep?...

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Let us learn 
    what we must 
   before going into 
the temporary death 
which is sleep 
The world continues to 
    to turn on its axis 
When you
see the dark angel 
  approaching
Don't hesitate - greet him with open arms 
Let us learn a little 
  form each descent into shadow 
Let us learn the power of light 
Which gives us life
Which gives us life
Let us learn about the source 
which gives us life...

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Sea of the cold hollow sandS
Traveling in the chaos TiamaT
Absolutely Absolvent empty AmbrosiA
River of currents, culling-hands that steeR
Saguant navigation of bouyant bendS
Carbon fingerprint, ethereal and cosmiC
Runes of bands-shapeshifting acrostic BezieR
Endless coil, kiss of anathema, soiled-absolutE
Anti by the light of the moon, it is Death in a comA
Morpheus embed, with cold -ante rooM...

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intent in heart
births thought in head
ego manifests
claiming ownership
birthing delusion
rooted in ignorance 

back to the heart
resting therein
in tranquil quietude 
identity disappears
but consciousness exists

confronted with the truth
which is inconvenient 
for the ego
we are in denial

the puppet
wants to become
the puppeteer

so what will it be
blue pill or red pill

choose...

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SAGE

The Burning sage smoulder's the twilight phantasmagoria,
Ghosts of scented smoke drift from a blackened clay pot,
Creatures sing our Sun to Morpheus arms,
Silence of their heart beats a deeper wish now,
Simple dreams of love in the long grass replace digital desire; 
And all it took was our loss of freedom...

By
David Nickle Read
©D.N.Read 2020
All Rights Reserved By The Author

...

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As the motions
of the moon 
     keep us guessing 
we wait here on 
       earth
for some kind 
        of salvation
  Experiments and empires 
rise and fall
    but the starlight 
    keeps us smiling
              even as darkness 
   spreads its cloak
               over us
    One last chance
           is what we ask 
for
     all we really need
Morpheus embraces us
We fall into a deep sleep...

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iinterplay of light 
       and shadow 
creates 
   images which resonate 
deep in the 
   mind's core 
    Night follows day 
and day returns 
   Our lives are played out 
       in the aftermath 
of creation 
Light lets us see 
Shadows give us a respite 
From the burning sun of reality 
   Dawn greets us with a smile
   Night closes our eyes once again 
leads us to another land 
    to the place where Morpheus rules...

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(FOR THOSE WHO CANT SLEEP)

Morpheus you traitor! 
Why have you abandoned me? 
And Left me to the mercies 
Of my destructive mind. 
The cruelty of silence, 
The ceiling, 
Engulfing walls. 
The constant drip 
Of some faraway tap. 
This bed of sorrow, 
This trap of regret,
 and those forgotton voices 
That linger within my soul.
 Oh please Morpheus! 
Won't you lay, 
Your cool hand 
Upon my brow, 
And wash away today....

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To drink a wine that tastes of orange blossom smell
To sip and dream of groves we've driven through
to gaze thru hoary rime of wintry windows
dreaming of the swaying palms on sunny keys
shiver starry skies in winter's icy winds
The moon so pale with cold is such a tease
adrift in frozen emptiness of silent seas
I close my eyes to see a sunny beach
and hear the steady beat of roaring surf
slipping under sheets of eiderdown
as Morpheus tends the beach umbrella...

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the eloquence of -  
the song of the syllable
the tone, like solemn Gregorian chant, 
tympanically resonant to hear
beautiful as deep-red Tiffany glass
stoned echo of Morpheus 
a Morpheme of the god of dreams
the language is a beautiful thing
to hear - enunciated, emancipated,
softly muscular moves,
especially whispered into ear

© Goode Guy 2013-02-04

http://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/lingual 
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Morpheus_(mythology) 
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Morpheme...

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