The children of dreams write their stories
with angelic smiles and tears on their faces
they carry their burdens bravely
making words of wonderful light
They don't care to talk much
they so prefer to write
I hear them scribe away
nearly every single night
I look over their shoulders sometimes
to see what they have written
and the beauty of their words
makes me purr like a kitten
So sweet they are
I love them all
my dream children
to me are very cool
By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris
The moon hangs, like the main decoration on a very eerie christmas tree, gloomily in the night sky.
Its gentle glow illuminates the world which is otherwise consumed in darkness.
The giant orb, plump like a ripe fruit-
yet glazed over with a chilling moss, inches higher and higher through the starry Milkyway.
When the clock strikes twelve it reaches summit and stops - as if basking in its own awe.
Gently, ever gently the music of the moon wafts through its carressing waves of moonshine - which hug the world below...and in the light of the full moon the fairies seem to dance and glow.
Their tunes and merriment are in celebration of the magic of dreams and fantasy in the air;
But suddenly it's not there anymore, and terror strikes the fairyfolk as they are abandoned in pitch black -
The moon has disappeared.
A candiflossed cloud eclipses the globe and steals the magic from the world.
But soon the moon is free from its disguise and the merriment continues.
Late into the night, when the goddess has long since begun her decent, like a silver'd over balloon, deflating - ever so slowly.
The fairies go back to their flowers and trees, go back to sleep and the world begins to lose its magic again...the soft symphony starts to die, in a slow pianissimo.
And just as she disapears, and sinks into the horizon, just as the dawn approaches, the world is engulfed in a deafening silence - in anticipation.
And as if the interval had gone on for hours, the sky bursts out into a carcophany of trumpets, and orchestra;
a crescendo jubilation as Apollo then edges into existence.
He brings a new kind of magic;
The magic of life.
All this I see, all this I hear when I play my sonata.
I feel the softness of the moon.
I feel the magic as I dance across the keys.
I see the world in a different light, through the music notes sketched into my mind.
And then as the night dies, I experience the rebirth of a new day, through the rise and fall of my melody -
All in the span of just a few minutes and then its gone, all gone -
And I am left starring, alone at the blank pages.
vagrant dreams of vacancy
emptied hive of mind
wanderlust plays with me
found a diamond in his eye
play for free, lose for free
"this life is such a bust"
play for free, win for free
the mania of lust.
vagrant dreams of place of me
a fear of bolted heights
at any hour the view is clear
of life's eternal light.
win for free, with the right
hands holding you up high
you will not sink for more than a minute
take a lesson and run with it,
Her rosy cheeks were red just like her lips.
Her laughter gave light but her grin was coy.
With dark midnight hair that grew down to her hips,
And eyes set on a handsome dark haired boy.
His wondrous eyes gazed o'er her pale sad face.
His heart was set on an other sweet girl,
A more free soul with elegant grace.
She could not compete with her golden curls.
Pondering all day that he'll take her hand
But leaves her restless and singing the blues.
Hoping one day he'll see and understand
That all those grins and talks were more than clues.
Sitting by the keys when she's feeling down,
She'll belt her voice and produce her own sound.
Come swim within this broken silence
the raging river inside beckons
the cadences we hear
are the untamed waters spring forth ,
overflowing , borne this beating heart
eroding this ardent heart's shorelines ,
leaving the thrummed edges wild
prevailing currents ,
no longer able to be contained
within the soul’s boundless margins
restlessly lost and lovely ,
I’ll be your earth and you my sky
feel the calming tide
flood in around us
I've been swimming in circles ,
treading water in an eddy of quietude ,
waiting for the world to turn ;
marooned , fighting swirling currents
the shattered places so deep within
how does it feel to be the sky
that bestows rivers' light ?(!)
how does it feel
to be constantly on my mind ?(!)
... what a beautiful piece of heartache
December 5th. 2013
an undeniable chill in the air imbibes your moment ,
... perhaps it is me :)
In the twilight light
That casts shadows in the day
The cold creeps at the October edges of my single pane windows,
And seeps into my cheaply heated home with newspaper insulation
It catches my toes, and walks up my white hands and reaches for my face by nose
The cold grasps firm and goes deep
And in the chilly dieing light
I found a picture of you laughing, tucked into a book I was going to give you
Suddenly I am dragged back to the moment when I fell in love with your soft indian eyes.
And your freckled cheeks drawn in an eternal smile
I loved your black hair and your carefree way
The cold is not cold enough for this,
I open a window and the back door.
I finish my drink to the whiskey sharp bottom,
I cast off my blanket and sit as wind comes in.
The cold is not yet cold enough
I add ice and vodka to my drink
Hoping for Russian absolution
But in the freezing flesh core of my sad meat suit,
As the temperature drops to negative numbers
My stupid heart still beats for you
And the cold is not cold enough for this.
Talking to you scares me;
Not because it causes pain;
Not because you're just too different;
But because it feels the same;
You make me smile;
You're making me believe;
That the world isn't lost;
And I don't have to leave;
But its two different worlds;
Montague and Capulete;
We are like the rewrite;
Of Romeo and Juliet;
Where their hearts didn't touch;
And their eyes didn't meet;
And they lived the rest of their lives;
With a hearts lonely beat;
Like chess we are at check mate;
Checking for another fate;
As I look to my king;
I'm your queen to take;
I love not for the way;
You dance with my angels;
But for how at you name;
All of my demons fell;
I'm worried about this;
About how much I care;
Because there will be a day;
When you are not there;
Its happened before;
And it'll happen again;
You will get up and leave;
When you have nothing to gain;
I said I would fall cautiously;
But you tripped me heart first;
So now I'm spinning in colours;
And music that bursts;
Dreaming of moments;
That will never be real;
Because I'm re-learning to love;
While you're just re-learning to feel;
I'm just hoping this isn't a remake;
Of both of our pasts;
That broke both our hearts;
And tore both our souls
We live in eachothers shadows;
Because we know the fake light;
There is no pretenses here;
Just our feelings without sight;
I know every part;
Of your dark twisted soul;
Just as you know mine;
And know we aren't alone;
So we'll fight all out demons;
And we'll dance with our fears;
As we balance our lives on a string;
As we hold back the tears;
We'll be broken together;
As you hold together my heart;
I'll keep healing your soul;
Not together, never apart…
Where have all the Peacemakers
Have they gone awry
Have they gone astray
Have they all died away?
What exactly are they doing
We face a universe's
On this small blue speck
Ants on an anthill
In the middle of the forest
Just off this path
Slaughtering each other
Miniscule mound of sweat.
We knock on the door
I'm hungry please let me in
When I'm hungry enough
I'll kick that damn door in.
Where have all the Peacemakers gone?
Whose coming with the light of dawn.
Every night on the news
The death report reports
And the cumulative sorrows weep
For the innocent
While genocide marches
Through the streets.
I can hear their cries from here.
Tell me dear
Where have all the Peacemakers gone?
Has the universe
In its insatiable hunger
Killed each and every one?
I watch the apocalyptic
And I can't help but feel so
So I reach out to you
And bury my face
In your breast for a
While in my heart are all
Of all the generations
Who have asked this before
Where have all the Peacemakers gone?
i wonder if you know that the same route
to your house in the daylight is different at
night. the road turns to currents and the
buildings are coral blooming in their lawns,
the sand gardens. the headlights of cars
are tiny fish catching the edges of mirrors
in the water’s light, bleeding white and gold
that fogs the windshield, an ethereal tide of
loss and shadow and muffled music.
i wonder if you know the second time i went
to see you i couldn’t swim fast enough. you
make me feel lightheaded, you turn my lung
over in your palm until it becomes a windpipe,
you smother my piccolo heart until it pierces a
hole through the sky with its sound. i’m spinning
out through my ears for you, rushing to a beat
with drunken feet, wide eyed and slick bird winged
with a panicked pulse. it was still warm and i guess
the weather tricked me into thinking it was a
temperature my kind could survive in, for you.
i wonder if you know when i saw you in the
doorway you looked more brilliant than all
the shimmering roadsigns from my best
unmapped memory, uncharted like your
wildflower stem wrists. i’d like to get lost
in your underwater mind, wade in the
swampy sadness with my fingers
twisted in algae. we’re not that different,
i wish you knew. you are more magnificent
than every hello and goodbye carved
from any mouth, soft or difficult, shy or
unabashed. when you saw me take my
steps your smile curved like a castle
letting down it’s drawbridge. how did
i convince myself that was a good thing?
i knew you were waiting for something.
i knew you were waiting for someone, but
i never would have guessed all you waited
for from me was for me to pass you by,
to get out of your sight so you could watch
the street roll and pull rain from the overhead
lights into ripples that reminded you of a
different time, a better time, a time before me
when you were happy. but the past isn’t always
as good as we remember it, i hope you know
that. i never would’ve said that to your face
because it was too beautiful to deface with
such a tar-slung sentence.
i wish i was a writer.
i wish i could sing.
i wish i could have done something, anything
to be the ribbon sent across the sky flying
like a star stained lighthouse beacon,
one you couldn’t forget, wrapping you
up on the glassy surface, keeping you
afloat in the present, banishing dark
underneath, sweeping away sharp
rocks, shark teeth.
I was walking tonight,
When I stumbled, across
A bird with a broken wing,
Lying, twitching, on the ground.
I had travelled this path
Almost a hundred times,
Taking in the night air,
Listening to the sound of nothing.
Never had I thought to look
Down, down at my feet.
Where Man and Earth meet,
And fallen souls lay strewn across the ground.
Tonight began as most
Days and nights do,
Ambling along, with my usual
Ignorantly blind caprice.
Then, into my heart,
As if a whisper from the stars,
The melancholic song
Of a fragile soul did enter.
Though faint at first
Its mournful seed did grow,
Until the aching muscle could
No further onward go.
Down my gaze fell
Resting beautifully on her broken wing.
But a pain like none before
I saw deep in her eyes,
She, a flightless bird
In human guise.
Placing her gently
In my soft palm,
So there I did heal
Her fragile arm.
And together we sang
throughout the night,
Wishing our harmony
Would the morning fight.
But knowing all too well,
That men dwell on Earth
And birds soar the Heavens,
We shared one last embrace.
As stars began to fade
The shades to recede
So forth the light
And then to the morning sky she returned,
But here, in our breasts, was Love now confirmed.