Posts tagged dream

One stupid dream and I can’t get to sleep,

how do I know if I’m a man or a monster

when out of my control these visions from the deep

shows me that I am not my master.

A moment of suspension

between the dream world and the next

steals a breath of apprehension

and leaves a lover quite perplexed.

.

For there’s a second when believing

is in the seeing of a ghost -

but a ghost that’s quite appealing

of the one the one he loves the most.

.

But going backwards from the world of five

to the shadows of the sixth

is a dangerous and uncertain dive

into visions better left unmixed.

.

Which is why it’s always better still

to take the journey thence

in lover’s arms - and come morning’s will

clutch not a ghost in sleep’s suspence.

The flesh betrays the higher mind,

as well it seems, my heart -

and in a dream is disinclined

to let its rage depart.

And so it racks my needed rest

with a temper untoward,

I wish I simply could arrest

these passions with a ward.

It turned out I was living the dream

and never knew it -

my whole life a sugar coated theme

that was carefully knit.

.

I realise the only reason

I don’t really care

about this short dry season,

is I know it will get fair

.

in time because I’m walking on

towards greener pastures

where I’ll be able to see the dawn -

just like the brochures.

.

But the Promised Land must wait for me,

for there is no road there

or any map across the sea,

for the lost - many a snare.

.

I know it’s bright shores in my mind,

I can see Her invite;

yet so many can’t and will not find,

nor of Her glimpse a sight.

.

No boat or cart has yet been built

for what can take me hence,

and none will be before I wilt

on this side of the fence.

.

But the road behind me stretches far,

paved with headstones grey -

and I sit here feeling quite bizarre,

with my own in the array.

.

The only thing there’s left to do

is leave a little note

for those behind me passing through,

to Her lands remote.

.

But first I’ll live a life so that

there’s something yet to write,

and hopefully worth looking at

or even maybe cite.

.

Action was not a consequence

of thought or meditation,

but itself an object of suspense

and causation.

.

Before I knew what had taken hold -

it was my fingers grasping,

like an idiot after Fool’s Gold -

stretching out like a spring.

.

Rapture unbidden rose up inside

my heaving chest -

an unstoppable, flooding tide

of maddening conquest.

.

The moment passed. A bead of sweat

fell to the dirty floor.

My confused, jumbled thoughts beset

the mind that I abhor.

Vivid ghosts from years ago
haunt my tequila dreams;
and waking - I can smell tobacco
in between the seams.
So real was it that I’d have lain
entranced by ecstasy,
until the madness took my brain -
if had not reality,
such an ally as my alarm
to let out such a scream -
and drag me from the violent charm
of my tequila dream.

For hours Sleep whispered my name,

tempting me with sweet dreams -

but I resisted His waxing claim

until He finally screamed;

thrusting me into fitful nightmares -

inescapable 

turbulent waves of despair 

reducing me to rubble.

Waking from my dreamtime flight,

I found I never slept.

But nothing in me seemed contrite

for what I had accept.

A Mystery that parting ways

would bring two travellers close -

I only hope that when He prays,

He won’t - me - presuppose.

If Dreams are not real
then why can I feel your arms
still holding me close.

In imitation of a long gone time
that long since faded from my waking eye,
a ghost from God to punish for my crime
appeared to me last night a lullaby.
And if I hesitated out of fear
it was only for a momentary breath,
then I gave myself as a volunteer
to a memory I had thought met death.
I fell in love beneath the Moon last night
to a familiar stranger in my bed,
against my cares and sighs He held me tight
and over us His wings were overspread:
but sunlight banished, like smoke to wind,
leaving me feeling as if I had sinned.

Awake - at least, I think I am -

it all feels like a dream…

I wonder if it’s all a sham,

a manipulative scheme.

.

Am I the only puppet here,

sitting on the stage?

Hoping just to strain and hear,

approbation for my wage.

.

But maybe I am happiest,

with this - my lot in life -

and it wouldn’t hurt to try invest,

my heart into this strife.