Category Archives: Dreams

Eyes Wide Shut

I lay here
conversing with
my inner
eyelids,

We try in vain to find
the drowse,
But sleep still lurks
around here
somewhere,
Hiding like a
sulky child,

A night hag pins my
limbs akimbo
as memories
taunt
the peripheries,
In the very edges
of the darkness
I can’t hold on,
I am not me,

I lie at the end of
One Night’s Slumber
but One Night’s Slumber
is avoiding me,

Instead you’re left
with this imposter,
Who screams
at a pitch
to make hearts bleed,
With a tongue that lashes,
flails, belabours,
forked by the dryness
of fatigue,

And I’ll not know
the Sandman’s wonder,
Perchance to sleep;
Forgo the dream.

Terror Dactyls

Poetry,
o how you
flow from me
endlessly, mare
of the night you
creep in like
the dead,
I can’t
sleep without
words – flapping
bats of insanity –
taunting me,
haunting me,
dactyls of
dread,
their
profanity
coking the fires
of artistry, scorching
their rhapsodies
into my
head.

 

 

napowrimo2015Today’s NaPoWriMo challenge was to write a poem that addresses itself, or some aspect of its self. As someone who suffers from insomnia, I find that often a word, a line or concept for a poem will come to me in the dead of the night. It is never actually welcome at that time, but that fact seems to be irrelevant….! And if you hadn’t noticed, the poem is made entirely of dactyls (aside from the last word), a term that I haven’t been able to get out of my head since the day 11 challenge!

Asleep

I looked at him,
Into the emerald of his eye,
And he did not see me,
My fingers passed right through
the rosy blush upon his cheek
and he did not feel me,
I said that thing he always loved
and the words; they just evaporated
and he did not hear me,
And the saccharine scent of my perfume
that reminded him of butterflies
just fell into the void
and he did not smell me,
And he didn’t press upon
the worry of my brow
with the softness of his lips;
He did not taste me,

And then I knew
that I was asleep,

And then I cried
no tears.

Foreverie

Once upon the daylight blue,
A longing was drawn in vivid hues,
And sat lucid in her reverie,
For times that she and he once knew.

Painted on her memory’s eye,
Thoughts flittered like a butterfly,
They tickled at the brink of truth,
And swaddled her mind in a dulcet lie.

He no longer walks the realm of we,
He’s not bound by mortal foolery,
But he’s exalted in her ceaseless dream,
Where they dance for all eternity.

This poem was written for NaPoWriMo. Today’s challenge was to write a Persian ruba’i, which is stanza with the rhyming pattern AABA. A collection of ruba’i is called a rubaiyat and that is what I’ve produced today. Oh, and the title is a combination of the words forever and reverie!

Great Pretend

There’s a monster in my room,
The monster from the gloom,
And he’s whispering that he wants to be my friend,
The wild fire in his eyes,
It lights my sleepless nights,
And seeks to guide me to the land of Great Pretend.

His growl rumbles and resounds,
As it shakes the fragile ground,
An earthquake in the moment daylight dies,
If he claws my weakened skin,
He’ll proceed to draw me in,
And drag my consciousness unto the other side,
I’d be trapped in heinous schemes,
and in everlasting dreams,
Where trumpets mask the sound of harrowed cries,
Where every shred of truth ,
And all I ever knew,
Would be drowned out by his dark and honeyed lies.

There’s a monster in my room,
The monster from the gloom,
And he’s whispering that he wants to be my friend,
So I keep a sideways glance,
Sure not to catch his eye by chance,
And ever toe the line between life and Great Pretend.

napo2014button2This poem was written for NaPoWriMo. Today’s challenge was to incorporate five song titles from a playlist.

I chose the playlist I listen to on my commute to work. The songs I got were The Monster by Eminem, Trumpets and The Other Side by Jason Derulo, Wild by Jessie J and Earthquake by Labrinth.

Really enjoyed this one, hope you do too!

Image credit: “Monster in the Tub” by RoadioArts

Dying Light

I’m more tired than I can handle. My
light a dying candle
that flickers as it burns
and as it yearns at
the mercy of both
the very breath that ends
me and Sleep’s oh so dulcet zephyr as it
turns and sways me at its will!
And still I slumber not
and scarce can dream the last
time that I felt like me. That the
darkness was nought but night
That the daylight was just a pure delight. But
– ah –
to be free! That promise (that my
soul holds dear and that my foes
would gladly steal) is elusive and
mischievously unreal. Oh
how it taunts my
thoughts, how it says we’re friends
and then how quickly does that friendship end! It
takes so much more than it gives
as it cradles me so tight, a
helpless, babe in arms, a naïve lovely,
Drowning in the charms of dying light!

napo2014button2
This poem was written for NaPoWrMo. The challenge of the day was to ‘write a golden shovel’. If you read the last word in each line of my poem, it will reveal a poem called the First Fig by Edna St. Vincent Millay (written in full below).
I had such great fun writing it, hope you enjoy it!

First Fig
My candle burns at both ends;
It will not last the night;
But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends—
It gives a lovely light!

– Edna St. Vincent Millay

Ecstasy’s Exorcism

The devil defiled my dreams one night,
Sowing seeds of sin,
Scenes of sex and sodomy
Wailing from within,
Fickle flesh and phallic forms
Entwined in evil embrace,
All anguish and adultery,
No glimpse of God’s good grace,
I stirred in sweats of sordid sorrow,
Reeling in rich remorse:
“Dispel these damning demons
Father, free me of foulest force.”
And from the frailties of fervour,
Through thick and thunderous thought,
A passive peace pulsed in me,
Refreshed, renewed, reborn.
Exorcised are the evils
That taint, and taunt, and tempt,
And since that satanic slumber,
Deeply divine are the dreams I’ve dreamt.

Conscious Me

Who am I when I close my eyes
and slip to a world of paradise?

I am not the she you see by day
when desire’s dream has ebbed away,
Engulfed in flames of sin I lay,
Forgiveness from my God I pray.

A wretched soul that claws the wall,
At Redemption’s door my footsteps stall,
I know he hears my doleful call,
Yet on deaf and ruthless ears it falls.

And this is what I live and breathe,
This is the life I chose to lead,
Where friends and family all take heed,
For none wish to be the conscious Me,
They pour their pity through the open wound
left by seeded and conceited womb,
I made a choice and chose too soon;
A life for a life with mine entombed,
Blessing and curse epitomised,
His joy my joy his cries my cries.

So who am I when I close my eyes?
Alternate Me who’s free from ties,
And the liberty is just so sweet,
And the conscience needn’t ever creep,
And the spirit never needs to weep
for the Me I am when I go to sleep.

The Dreams

I always dare to dream the dreams
But little shards disturb my sleep
When reality rips right through the seams
And all that’s left are the sighs that creep

From lips that tremble with the tears
Of wasted hopes and realised fears

A stifled cry, frustrated screams
My heart is sinking in defeat
I always dare to dream the dreams
Is this why I fear the sleep?