All poems found containing the word dream
Corey Christ Lyrical Worship "Like a dream something we cant even fathom in our sl"

Because of Adam we are dust and  return from which we came
But at the cross Jesus conqueror the grave...
So that's not where we remain.
Fly like doves in heaven the eternally saved
Death often brings pain and thoughts of rage..
Like how he die so early..
Yet we know he's in peace .. in heaven there's no surgery
On earth lives are at stake..
The gift of birth God gives but the flesh is limited so the Spirit he takeneth away
So Donnell's life was a gift..
So remember when there's sorrow there is glory at the end
God knew what we needed couldn't have made another..
To Caprice, Erin, and his other siblings he was a brother..
When he was born Neicy became a mother
To Clarence a nephew to Ms. Cooper a grandchild...
To me a playmate young and running wild
My eyes water while kneeling on the Floor
Praying for the healing of hearts that are sore
But to be absent from the body is to be present with the Lord
U with God and the angels now I can feel u hover..
Up in the heavens above us
Face to Face now u can see how much Christ loves us
Walking on gold paved streets...
Like a dream something we cant even fathom in our sleep,
Started writing this with a tear..
It trickled into this here..
Words to my brother in heaven there's Nothing to fear
So God I will not question..
Cause when its time he reveals the answers to life lessons..
Oh the Thoughts of entering into heaven..
My brother at 27..
Walking around in heaven..
When its all said and done God is  forever omnipresent

Kahara Jones "I dream in the cracks you cover with clay"

My purple sunrise is deeper than yours
I dream in the cracks you cover with clay
the black in my pupils holds in more light
but your bleached white walls lead to my decay.

My grass is thicker,
my blue is stronger
when I eat from the fruit there's more teeth in my bite.
Can you taste the juice?
Feel it dribble down your shirt?
That's the stream in my forest
by my carpet of dirt.

It's written in ink
smeared, still legible
that I hold a soul within these bars of bone
light and soft like cooling butter

It's fierce, and it sings, and doesn't understand
the reasons for pain in this drying, Eden-land.

Casaria NightShade not real "He makes me dream of haunted things."

Searching through his bloodied clothes.

Searching for what is left.

Nothing.

With the rage, I cut into his chest.

I want his heart, for safety and comfort.

I rip it out and cradle it

I want it for others but I shall never reveal them now.

I love very bit of this heart.

You say I am a beast?

Look at you, I know you have done sins.

I am a dark being.

I love the screams and moans of pain and death.

I just don't know what happened to that little girl you had once seen.

Laughing, playing...

Now crying and imbalanced.

I have made a doll.

It has the heart that I cradled

It looks just like him.

He talks to me.

Calls me "Little Dove"

At night 'he' comes alive and kisses me with those sharp teeth.

That wretched smile drives me insane.

His a demon, bursting out if my chest.

Putting his  bloody doll like hand on my pale white cheek.

Killing me with his poisoned kiss.

I am paralyzed in time.

I love him ever so.

He says to me that me can make me a world of blood.

He makes me dream of haunted things.

Wounds, stitches, knives and more lovely.

Blood...

I am happy that he can make my world come true.

I love that I am crazy, because he makes me feel better.

I love you, demon of my dreams.

Brown Suga "in this soulless world my never ending dream my true beauty queen live long, love fo"

The twinkle in your eyes when I profess my love for you the feel of your curves cascading down your long body and the shape of your honey lips how could I forget the pleasure of ever loving you of ever knowing such a delicate flower? My sweet angel my diamond in the rough of life my warrior and my hero a comrade in this war of love my goddess of Atlantis Athena the great my loving queen how could I have ever been so mean! Love of a lifetime in this soulless world my never ending dream my true beauty queen live long, love forever, miss me never, stay true, be you.

Angel "Poverty and addiction is a just a bad dream, wake up!"

Paper notes are nothing without the air that fuels their journey
From hand to hand, money to palm, no, I want that inbetween
That fair exchange, that feel good feeling.
I have faith in that ease.
But you are blind to what I see
You believe it's brought everything, this paper wrapped in thorns.
Independence, equality and within us, no judgement or scorn
I laugh even though it hurts from the lungs you've torn
Your air isn't fit to breathe anymore
From firestarters to materials, from nowhere at all to experiences
The answer lies not within the devious
So I wait
A precarious balance to one day think you can pay off fate

You hold it tight, until the moment comes.
Through snow, through sleet, sunshine and rain.
You'll have that goodie today.
And nothing can stop you but a lack of change.
When life and death is trivial, you can hear the quarters coming
You're full to the brim with it
But it's nothing.
An overflow of twinkling coins and shiny bills
It's the journey, the reward, that brings those thrills.

I want to remove the middle man, the mad man, the money mind-set banned
And instantly connect those two generous hands
Together we'll make it happen, let's start with a global call
Inexpensive and cheap, abundance and freedom is solved
Monsanto the monster hiding beneath our countries bed
The internet our new best friend
It is our turn now, to bring this to an end
Poverty and addiction is a just a bad dream, wake up!
It's never too late to have had enough

A N Friedman "I dream to tend the Garden fair. Diversified"

Garden
I dream to tend the Garden fair. Diversified
by beauty rare. Petals of fire
vibrant as they swing and sway. Tender
and fragile, yet strength of all aspects.
The rage of night may dim a shallow man’s perspective
But with hope and faith, it but
enhances the view in my imagination
to watch the moonlight bask in the glory
of flowing upon thee
Or to watch the sun
greater its calling
in hopes
of absorbing
more beauty
to mock
as it rests
at night
music of
the ages
flows forth
though all
is silent.
Clarity arises
As it sweeps
Away the fog
and adversaries
melt to zero
and the
intoxication
bombards me
deeply as
she opens her
lips to utter
the word
“Hello”

Ormond "Face of Dream"

I feel the shrug of the passing winds,
That gather beyond my solemn place,
Where indifferent birds fly to and from,
With only lost dreams, real as her face.

xxxxyyyyy "or this entire time you are just a dream."

it’s 2 am
we’re sitting in your car, squeezing in the front seat.
you’re holding me in your big arms
you look at me, wild eyed and restless and whisper,
“i love you. and i don’t want to lose you.”
so i looked away and fought back my tears
i held your hand, but then quickly let go.
“but you don’t intend on keeping me either. do you?”
and to that you had no response

so we continued to lay there in silence
because i know you don’t love me.
or maybe you do, and maybe it’s just in a way that i don’t understand.
we always hurt the ones that we love
so maybe you just love me too much.
i can’t wake up in the morning without you on my mind.
it troubles me to think that we might not be meant for each other.
or this entire time you are just a dream.
if you are, how could my mind ever create a creature so beautiful?
a human so perfect.

you come to me with every unbalanced emotion
but i know if i ever show up at your door,
wild eyed and restless,
you will not show me sympathy or let me in.
you will tell me to go home.

Nhlanhla Moment "of their time loafing and stealing. His dream was to make enough money to buy his mot"

It was after the Second Anglo-Boer War. Some of the soldiers went to brothels and taverns and places as such. It reminded them of the vibes in canteens. One soldier named Jokas took the advice of several of his friends and bought a sex worker. He had been disappointed by the fact that his girlfriend married a lawyer. And so Jokas had his fun, this didn't last though for he still had the appetite for commitment.

So he kept returning to the same brothel - buying the same sex worker. In time they developed feelings for each other, writing letters and sending pictures when away to see relatives... but this wouldn't be as Dennis, a friend of his, introduced his cousin to Jokas. She was nice, had a decent job and was ready to settle. Her name was Anna. So Jokas stopped going to the brothel and opted to start a life with Anna, it seemed the sensible thing to do. Jokas moved with Anna, they both went overseas. Valerie was the name of the sex worker he had feelings for, what Jokas didn't know was that Valerie had fallen pregnant. A few years later she got a job at a bistro and lived in a vacant storage room with her son, Warkos. Warkos was raised in a bistro, there he got advice about life, culture and women from drunkards, thieves, policemen, lawyers and loafers. He had little formal education. He grew up resenting life and lacked a sense of belonging. He started being mischievous when he pick-pocketed a rich businessman, when he was only seven years old.

He used getting into trouble as an outlet for his anger and loneliness. His mother didn't keep men whom he could look up to. Although she began spending a lot of time alone and didn't care much about men, since her prostitution days. At age 14 Warkos met a girl with a strange name; Tellaby. Tellaby gave his life purpose at a time when he was suicidal.

She was a pretty, decent and very respectful girl who came from a well-to-do family. Days in the park with her was his escape, it gave him a sense of normality. However he would go back to the real world, back home his mom had been enduring depression and took up smoking. She was stressed by the fact that her boss kept abusing her (emotionally and verbally). Warkos formed a gang at age 16, he recruited a few dysfunctional teens in the neighborhood who spent most of their time loafing and stealing. His dream was to make enough money to buy his mother a house, find his father - so to find function; whatever that meant.

At age 17 Warkos got arrested for drug possession. He spent only 6months in prison as he had a witness who testified that the drugs were planted. The witness was paid by his gang of course. So he served 6 months for assaulting a police officer. All the while Tellaby got herself a boyfriend, he was a functional, smart boy who had a scholarship to study overseas at Oxford University. Tellaby's family approved of the relationship and pressured her to continue seeing him.

When Warkos got out, he heard the news and attempted to stab Tellaby's new boyfriend but was stopped by Tellaby... When Tellaby chose Eric, her new boyfriend, over him it was the end of his heaven and sense of normality. Drugs he found too dangerous and started researching fraud, he met a few intelligent con-men and together they forged cheques. In just one year he had about R500 000 and bought a nice cottage for his mom in the quiet small town of Andbury. This earned him prestigious status and he met with his gang again, had his mother's old boss murdered and took over the business. He ran three brothels and about five bars in three towns. He was only in his mid-twenties when he made his first million. He had a vice, to heal his pain of not feeling loved, and to forget about the pain and the void of not knowing his father he used heroin. Of course prestige comes with a price, there was a mob which was government-owned (secretly of course), it didn't like the growing competition, so when Warkos was 27, he was shot twice in the chest, once in the shoulder. The assassin was not found when the police investigated and he left few, if any, traces. Warkos survived the murder attempt after he was rushed to hospital, the bullets missed the heart but wounded his ribs.

Being housed was no longer safe for him so with his convoy, they moved from city to city, robbing banks and restaurants. At this time his gang earned notorious status. They were dubbed The Notorious Warks by journalists. On one heist he got shot on the arm and leg but this inspired him to earn even more power... A month later he funded a Black Resistance Movement, in papers they wrote about him as, "Warkos the Invincible Horse". Funding this political movement enabled him to expand his power and fight the force that was against him. He provided guns and grenades to a sect within the movement to attack government officials and invade and batter their homes. This moved to hijacking their cars. Soon this sect of guerillas had enough power to do crime in the cities, however they secretly met to be independent and not be under Warkos.

So among them there was an informer who leaked Warkos' whereabouts, he was shot twice in one shoulder but his men took cover and they escaped. Warkos, 29 years old, was getting tired of this violent life, he abandoned his gang and had a lump sum of money sent to his mother. He even investigated the whereabouts of Tellaby and stalked her for a while. He decided to go back where he grew up, he went to the storeroom which he and his mother lived in... In it was a locker; he opened the locker and found a box which had pictures and letters from his father, sent to his mother... In one letter was a poem written to his mother, Valerie, it read:

I have been fooled by ruling men
You believe in honour and glory
but you do not see the Be Lie in "believe"
and now I feel no better than these thieves
I only find comfort in being with you, Valerie.

At that moment he cried and kicked himself for he felt he had been living a shallow life... He thought to himself that his father was a good man and that he probably wouldn't be proud of him...

The next day he did nothing but think and that's when he got shot by Eric. He had been trying to get hold of Valerie as they (Eric and Valerie) were in the country to celebrate Easter... Eric found out and because he despised him with a passion he got word out to the police but the police feared him so they had to use an intelligent strategy; Eric insisted that it be him who murders Warkos as he will have done his country a great honour. So he came as a paying customer at the tavern/bistro, all the other customers left, as well as the staff. Warkos was unmoved by this, as he was deep in thoughts. This became easy for Eric, never had anyone been murdered with such pleasure... It is documented that Warkos' last words, softly and lazily uttered, were: "Where's Tellaby?"

First short story outside of the J.R.R Tolkien genre so go easy on the expectation... Criticism, negative or positive granted.
Nik Bland "Past the dream to reality"

Knees, keep supporting me
You know I believe in you
Stop with all the frailties
And get me where I'm rolling to
Unscrew
All the blues
You sing and keep running in time
Well fed, sleep when you're dead
Or at least aT the end of this rhyme

Pause time, wipe off the grime
Focus on the words I have to say
Ran five hundred score, just a few more
And we can be in a happy place
Don't stop
Don't drop
Reach mountaintop and valley low
Haters degrade the progress made
Saying that we run too fast, too slow

Oh yes, do your best
Until you glimpse that finish line
Past the dream to reality
And see it was you all this time
These knees
Strongly
Wanted to finish just as bad as you
God be blessed, revel in success
We all run, but how you finish is up to you

 
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