#dream poetry

[definegodliness]

[darkfrenchwitch]

fugitives of the astral plane

it’s 4am

intermissions

at the ballet

an herbal dance

and the screaming cats

are concerned

about her waking state

we all are

escaped into

the amaranth

and sweet grass

there’s a cabin

where I stay strapped

and free

walking room to room

in dreams

where god lives too,

lawlessly

.

[thoughts-of-a-caterpillar]

-Madhav, 22/11/23

[doelie]

I don’t believe in god… but I still look up at the stars and beg him to save me.

[poppiesandpromises]

In this dream my brother

Is not dead but he is so

Very angry at me and

Somehow I am naked—

Lost at a campsite, weeping

I am so lost and confused

He finds me, he is

Vibrating with rage

He says he can't wait

To get out of this town

Then I wake up

And he does

[lost-ash-es]

I'm sorry love

I was cheating on you with death

he flirted with me in notes he left

and beckoned me where I should not go

now I'm bloody and miles from home

I'm sorry my love

I'm leaving you for him

he calls with such sweet sorrow...

-ash

[rottenroseraven]

of course I am relieved that I told you the truth

but I am still so confused

my mind is just increasingly obsessed with you

even tho I screamed out my feelings

saying that’s what I had to do

I still would like to be with you

and I hope you know that too

It’s easier for me now

but I still want to see you

I still want to feel you

I still want to hear your voice

and see your smile

feelings don’t just vanish over night

especially because you didn’t reject me

you just said don’t worry

that I shouldn’t be embarrassed

but what about you?

what about your feelings?

I am not sure

why is it all so unclear?

why is my life full of unanswered questions?

[losermonol0gue]

Ill disguise my rot, cover myself in flowers and fruit, and Ill hope the stench of my eroding skin is masked by the sweet aroma of honeydew.

[crow-made-of-onyx]

The dream

the same dream

from the night before

the dream keeps me awake

keeps me afraid.

ill count sheep,

drink warm milk

but ill never sleep the same

its not necessarily scary,

just nerve wracking,

that's all.

its just a dream,

keeping me awake.

[oresteias-heart]

Maybe I do love like other people…♥︎

You are a person. You have sentiments and values, you are human. I, however, find it easy to sometimes forget that fact. As you, start to appear more in my nightmares rather than my dreams.

We all dream, don't we? Dreams are simply the aspect of our lives when we imagine what we could do, what we possibly can do. However, people mostly dream about the aspects that are unattainable and sometimes it is easier to forget that these are fiction than to remember.

Are you the unattainable in my dreams?

Perhaps it's because people love so much, they love so much that even their heart feels on fire. They love so much even they try to defy and defile even the ground rules written by the universe and the whole world just to love a person.

Just like I love you.

Is that why you appear in my dreams?

Because I love you?

I, myself, even danced with the Grim Reaper kissed him on the cheek, and twirled him on the ballroom floor, and as the music was my own memorable laughter, and the harder I listened, your own laughter was mixed in with mine.

And maybe that is what gave me the strength to tell the reaper to come for another dance sometime later, so I am like other people, defying the laws of our written world, just to see your face one last time, even if you don't wish to see mine.

— Oresteia…♡

[dreamgazerswritingblog]

Black Tape

I saw her in my favorite film, locked away in locks of black tape, tied and spun unspun, she comes undone and back again.

She is a VHS tape, or the film on that tape, or perhaps the reel on the wheel, perhaps her heart the mysterious motor as equally unknown to me as the human heart.

Maybe she's her eye on the screen, magnetic gaze on a magnetic image, the magnitute of all those pixels buzzes like an earthquake far away...

I seek her in my memory but my memorys go by too fast, im rewinding the tape. I wear her memory as she wears me with her look, undressing whatever it is that makes me me so that she can be me.

I must see her in my dreams but i forget. I wake up on a pile of black tape, sometimes wishing she could tie me up in it. Tie me in knots and spin her web till im but a mummy, ready to sleep forever and never forget my dreams again...

[definegodliness]

10-12-2024

First line. Complete poem under the cut.

Dream

She sleeps with her eyes open. Came barging in with that Cocky grin, scintillating, 'back again and Both you and I exactly know why I came.' No sugar On her violent lips And clashing hips, Paroxysmic at the fabric's rip. Pushed, toppled, pulled, folded backward; Tongues, achingly searching; tasting, when Hers turns to Holy Water. Deus ex machina; My mouthful. She, liquid inside, Shudders, shook In her shell, whereat I, the blamed, At her pointed finger, chuckle: she — Did this to her.

Now, frail, little; Featherweight, the empty husk, In my arms, rocked and cradled. That I know how much I want her, At how I want to Protect and reinvigorate her, though I fear her, Now she soundly sleeps with Eyes wide open. Pools of North Sea darting REM, Unequivocally scanning For the paralyzing headhaunters Assembling armies, Trying to enter and assail, this, our Happenstance established Dreamsprung limbo, From whichever Otherworldly Dimension. Yet No kindred Horror Overcomes her statuesque presence. She maintains the peace, albeit eerily, Embodying the silence before a storm, That, solely by her decree, Will never come. That, I see, And I make sure Her half-here does not suffer my what ifs Anymore.

She wakes Seemingly crystal on Newborn-foal legs, with a nightshade smile. Dynamics have changed, and she reaches A hand for me to take. We traipse, in unison, To openness; my meadow, cleared By her eye of the storm, Softly glows under Mist-gowned Sun. Idyllic at Razor-blade's edge, As Armageddon still brews, precarious. When it comes For a taste, or a whiff of scent, I offer the sportsmen some chitchat, Whereas she pets The Pointers that used to chase her. Those who could easily escalate, maintain The status quo of our limbo, enraptured by A shared longing to Continuate the existence of one Who has outlived the great plan; Too alive to fade, Too fragile to be Animate.

When, ultimately, the nightly veil tears, Her chrysalis starts to crack and break. Commences dawn. That, we cannot escape. She must leave, as I — Must wake.

A blink.

A blip.

Exchanged, she is For two separate female figures. One dark, one bland; both, not of my interest. Maybe they still can bend in ways Chrysalises are unable; Maybe they can Entertain At Puppet Master's strings, But they remain but pawns In Nightmare's Scheme.

They cannot live; They cannot die, And they most certainly cannot turn into A dream.

--- 10-12-2024, M.A. Tempels ©

[darkfrenchwitch]

it still wakes me

if a hero comes

or not

I’m fighting

monsters

at 3 am

I’m taking

names

of who never

showed up

light ànd shadow

teaming

and alone

I become

à shepherd

of silence

torching your name

avenging myself

in the darkest

of pastures

[blueeyes-crystalskies]

“And you could knock my lights out, blue

But I would know him in the darkness.”

— subconscious poetry pt. XXXI

[maanvinderpilania]

poetry of the end

fire raining down from the sky

and my planet turned to hell

with no sign of life but only cries

of his, her and their memories at midnight

strange streams leaking my from eyes

i wonder , "will i even survive?"

poetry i write from every dying

pieces of memories and fragments of my life

[lunarofthevalley]

Do I still visit you in your dreams?

Because you’re in mine.

All the time,

I’m reminded of memories from a better time,

I’m made to live some distorted version of a life with you in it.

And then I’m forced to wake up and remember,

We don’t talk anymore,

I haven’t seen you in a year,

I miss you.