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Arya Apr 2019
Creeping
               From a
                     Window.
                          Trying not
                                To be seen
                                 Hiding
                                From darkness.
He didn't say you couldn't write a poem about nightmares.
Jim Davis Apr 2017
I've seen tulip fields, daffodils and
mountain meadow's spring blaze
Of bloom
Still, I looked for a place to dream

I've floated the wow, in sea life filled,
surreal turquoise lagoon's sparkling
Drifting waters
Still, I looked for a place to dream

I've dined with Mickey, at his home
but too late for a quick visit with his
Given grace
Still, I looked for a place to dream

I've laid still with friends, from a long ago
through both through and in
Thick and lean
Still, I looked for a place to dream

I've heard the oh so quiet winds blow
into one ear, and inside, out into the
Other inside
Still, I looked for a place to dream

I've crawled into sticky lairs of trouble
more times than I can again sort of
Totally remember
Still, I looked for a place to dream

I've jumped into the frypan much
too friggin hot for a figure of speech and
Of mind
Still, I looked for a place to dream

I've gone into, over, through and
on top of, all the way in, then out and
Down under
Still, I looked for a place to dream

I've slipped the earth's surly bonds
more than one time, possibly a one
Hundred thrice
Still, I looked for a place to dream

I've watched stars and planets pass
me on by in parched, black filled
Desert skies
Still, I looked for a place to dream

I've traveled the whole world around
not once, but close to once, or at
Least twice
Still, I looked for a place to dream

Funny, I finally found the only place
that I need to dream right there in
My mirror
Staring at me from my mind within

©  2017 Jim Davis
Submitted for HP theme today (24 April) "dreams" #npmdream
Lady Misfortune Apr 2017
I remember a dream I had that stayed with me
I never knew what it meant
Although it put me at unease
It was a sunny day and I was awake and smiling
It was all normal until the bed I slept on came to life
It set up a table and poured some tea
With both sipped and ate small sandwhiches while chatting
All of a sudden it got angry
In the end it ate me
I awoke, and what seemed insignificant was a nightmare to me
After 10 years of wondering
I've finally came to my conclusion
I can be happy
But that won't stop the world from trying to devour my smile
And I'd never see it coming
Because the person to carry the mischief through
Would be the one I got comfortable with
And depended on
But it'd be my fault because I was the one who made the bed
The thoughts would eat me away
All they did was set the table and cut the bread
Never knew until the day
Where all the cards fell in place
The thing is I hate tea. Iced tea is ok, but hot tea I just don't like.
Seán Mac Falls Jul 2012
I was with the ocean last night and your body
Was its vessel, overflowing.  Words were frail,
Drops indwelling about the shapeless sky,
Water reaching for its own height and breath,
Like touch, were as desperate letters exchanged,
Endlessly read, until like loamy vellums, they
Disappeared in our hands.  Inklings of tide-
Pool and driftwood.

                               My blood was a river that ran
Its course.  Members feeding your deltas and birds
Breeding where the water-russet sheds on pampas
And inverness.  Eyes like wing through ever—
Green, empties the fossil shell.  Fire, brimming
Mountaintops that were, for countless millennia,
Sleeping.  Did I mention that the earth moved?
No?  Her displacement was involuntary.

Then came the waterfalls, lifting throughout
Time.  The scent, searching for its identity,
The wave, calling to its own name— Ocean,
O— cean.  And flowers, opening like galaxies
In the after-light.  A universe of face and hand
With hunger for salt-rain and then the cloud
Burst-blue and spilt and spun more redolent,
Deities, in joyous creation.

I breathe, in your ocean, like a child unborn.
Laura Slaathaug Apr 2017
and you have only to take
off your day and
put on your night.
Your worries can't
go to bed with you;
they'd never fit,
not even in a California king.
So, you dust off your dreams
and shrug them on,
old and familiar
And you when you lie in bed, sleep soundly
because you've never given one dream away.
Day 20
david mitchell Apr 2017
-
with dark brown eyes,
you searched,
for someone,
for god,
for light.
with deep brown eyes,
you saw me.
in me you found,
cold hallways,
broken tiles,
but never light.

with tired green eyes,
i searched,
for someone,
for warmth,
for you.
with vacant green eyes,
i found nothing.
all i ever wanted,
was nothing.
in you i found,
something.

with boring, sad eyes,
we pondered.
on death,
on love,
on us.

with wide, bright eyes-

we awoke from our own dreams,
in messy sheets far from heaven.
we wept, sea between beds,
feeling dead and forever unpleasant,
from too many words and antidepressants.
i prefer death over inconvenience sometimes. it's unhealthy.
shåi Apr 2017
her mind
wove assorted ornaments
          of vivid hues

each stitch
      an alternate reality
a story she wished she knew

her view,
a distant spectacle--
a casual onlooker
upon the lovely scene

emotions spin
      making its own ball of yarn
a tight knot forms

she is
her own
great nightmare

distorted reflections
grimace in horror
                her own doing

a black sea
bubbles and gurgles
liquifying sensual sins

beauty hides
the facade
         of her own madness

(b.d.s.)
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