My heart does ache.
My eyes would like to close a while;
bathe in dark lake
of mystic dreams and erstwhile
memories of images now opaque.
My tired soul
begs the keeper of the mind:
summon that golden oriole,
bid it fly to thoughts that I, purblind,
have sought but never recovered whole.
And in its beak
bring back from realms afar
the comfort I seek
from sacred leaf of deodar,
that trance-like visions I might eke.
O, soul be calm again,
Be-trembled frame be still.
O, heart your pulse restrain.
With bird-like impulse in weakness of will
it dips its steely beak into my vein.
The salt spray caressed my smooth skin
Beneath a sunlit vast expanse,
Where wet waves start their swirling spin,
Printing sweet memory`s soft trance.
from between eyebrows, straight up to the crown
each point along the grid is our third eye
depending on realms where we wish to drown
we may choose to witness lie after lie
to indulge in awhile before we die
each reality is another dream
know oh hermit, things are not what they seem
I am
under your spell
put in a trance
waiting for your love
that you promised me
Pentastitch: Title - Fog of Midnight
Sponsor: Nette Onclaud
Date: 29-Oct-2025
---------------------------------------------
The night calls,
In her siren voice.
And I find myself
Losing in my sins, walking --
Through the fog.
The dark mist,
Beckons this moth home.
The eternal flames,
Welcome into open arms.
And I burn.
I don’t want to
Submit myself
To flashing ads
And transient script
From a digital screen,
I want to hold a real book,
Lose myself in its pages,
In a trancelike dream.
As we trance dance, in our dream world,
in truth we are always alone,
propelled along a path unique,
in time coming into our own.
Shifting hues of scarlet sunset,
rivulets flowing down a hill,
each distant star a shining gem,
surrender to God egoic will.
Aligned with the vast universe,
synced to the cosmic vibration,
as part of the collective whole,
soul entwines with God’s creation.
Breath by breath as heartbeats renew,
gently softening attention,
sensing bliss ignition within,
we claim our right to ascension.
The light is on so now dance!
No more living life in a nanby-pamby trance.
You’re eighteen now boy no more.
Man now you are, forget all those ‘lessons’ from before.
Men are men and know the score.
They’re there for you take galore!
Stand up straight and be a lad!
Pints and shots must now be had!
The wild in you now must be fed.
Then tamed your wild will be until you’re dead!
The world is cold, the world is weird.
You’re nothing until you’ve bed a score or more and proved your ‘hood’!
So this is what it is to be?
Remember success is who you know not who you be!
The loner types think too much and try to feel.
They look at life and try to find the quiet deal.
A thoughtful appreciation is frowned upon. Stag nights and strippers in Marbella is where you belong?
Walk your path, find your way.
If materialistic proof and money is your ‘hey’. I’m sure that life will treat your days and years in this superficial, unreflective, simplistic way.
As a child I loved to dream,
making my days and nights grand.
Reading made my dreams come true,
far off places I wanted to see.
As the many years went by,
some dreams came true,
others lay dying.
What I learned through the years,
as an entity in the dream we conjured-
we know not we are-
both the dreamer and dreamed.
How then may we wake up,
when we are in trance,
in bondage to illusions-
we ourselves streamed.
In this trance or bondage,
we may want to awaken-
but must we?
Maybe as the dreamer,
we need to be left alone to dream.
The night unfolds her velvet veil
Paints the heaven with alabaster clouds
They drift like ghosts, whispers of air
Dancing in rhythm with the moon’s beam
Its silver glow, serene and calm
Rolls gently over vales and hills
The stars, like gems gleam
In the sky, a cloth with sequin glitter
The earth, entranced by nature’s quiet beauty
Pauses as time dissolves without a trace
The moment carved in purest grace
Weaves a dreamscape stirring fleeting thoughts
Of lover’s skin smooth, radiant and flawless.
Coupled with your silence that said what your words couldn't,
I wore the masks you chose for me,
Swallowed the words you didn't want to hear,
And built myself around your anger,
Yet your eyes never softened when they looked at me.
Now adrift in this trance of mine,
I search for answers, a meaning unseen,
In the echoes of your words, a love redefined,
A love that was, a love that might have been.
burdened wandering among negative energies
although for the most part they impacted him not
he searched in vain for that elusive elixir of love
resonating at a frequency matching his own
poised in stillness, he exited the lucid dream
recognised all as one, as thoughts he did stream
I was walking on a long path,
and found an old farmhouse;
with a garden decayed,
and a voice whispered come !
Oh, that voice was creepy;
but, I was in a trance.
I stepped onto a broken porch,
the door made a harsh moan;
and the inside was dim,
I tried to make out shapes.
Rocking chair, piano;
but, I was in a trance.
Then, I saw her in an old chair,
the fabric was tattered;
her dress a sickly white.
her face so very pale.
Yet, she was beautiful;
but, I was in a trance.
In the hush she said, oh Dear Heart,
I have been waiting child;
it is time that you come,
come I whispered, come where ?
No thank you, I am fine;
but, I was in a trance.
She got up and floated to me,
I will never forget;
those brittle cold bone hands,
caressing, touching me.
I let out a wild scream;
but, I was in a trance !
Poetry/Verse/But, I Was In a Trance
Copyright Protected, ID 10-1680-476-11
All Rights Reserved, 2024, Constance La France
Copying any part of this work is prohibited without permission.
we are not this body-mind
yet ephemeral impressions arise
refrains replayed reinforce ego urges
soul witnesses this trance dance in surprise
here we go again
conjuring fear demons
from which to seek reprieve
we then manifest gods and angels
assigning imaginary attributes
to the opposing polarities
in this lucid dream
as escapists
immersed in trance
addiction now our affliction
we wallow in the shallows of desire
mirrored by fears we hold dear
remaining thus in captivity
from birth till death
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