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Planejane2 Aug 2019

Dreamer, in my dreams, they are schemers
Just what I wasn’t hoping for
But, I was singing in psalms
I was rereading my poems
Looking for the clues on the type of men like you...
I’ll be there for hours
Trying to decipher
Between love or lust
Making it for hours.
Caught up in my flesh,
Trying to catch my last breath
As you ****** and I pounce on top of you
Because in my dream, your a schemer...
Devil in a dress, satan riding around in a Beamer
Selling me dreams of watered down Hennessy and Mickey
As I play Minnie
Or am I the duck
Or the dog that goes hu-yuck
As I’m a little more sophisticated
But goofy, for daydreaming about the things that won’t happen.
Planejane2 Aug 2019

You will find him, sitting on your doorstep

Waiting for a suprise. You will feel like you’ve been there for ours,


But you can tell that he’ll be there for life.

Down to save you, captain save a wife
Until **** gets trife

And she starts to spark fire, stirring up life.

This ain’t what I want, and this ain’t  what you wanted

Sing in psalms , writing all these poems , living in lala land... wishing we can be more than friends

She’ll be waiting in the highest cage filling up every page day in and day out for hours

And she’ll being doing the same night and day for life
Khoi-San May 2019
Darina Forgacova Feb 2019
I so want to tell you.
I so want to dream with you.
I want you know me better.
I am strong daydreamer, loner,
So full of kindness and loving feelings.

I know how to make you and me happy.
So happy to scream it to the whole world.

I can see ordinary life like full of
wonderful details.

I know how to make you feel so lively.
I am person who is always on foot.
Going through and exploring.
I will take your hand and go out to show you
how my seeing of life is
How you can be happy in details.

Life is so good when you are open to see.
To smile even when is not convenient.
To be open go out of ordinary acting.

This is me.
Daydream is my drug for you.
Everything with me is sweeter.
My Daydream.
When love is a drug.
Shadow Dragon May 2018
A daydreamer,
who doesn't understand.
He took my hand,
told me the broken things.

I cut all the strings,
watched him burn.
then I wanted to learn.
Learn to end the fire.

Something I didn't know prior;
You can't start being a liar.
Then splash water on it,
when you should use an extinguisher.
chloe Mar 2018
when i was told as a little girl.
"think before you speak"
i knew what mum was getting at
and what dad tried to get me to do.
now i'm older, only a little older than yesteryear.
i was in a slumber.
now i have turned to my night-dreams.

if i thought before i spoke.
maybe i wouldn't have even said a single word.
maybe i would have been so lost in my thoughts
i would forget what i was saying. or thinking.
no one would no what i meant when i thought about tomorrow afternoon. they would stare into my starry eyes and wonder why they even bothered to talk to me. would they?
but i will never know. because.
even when i hurt someone through simple sounds flowing from my mouth. i would still make them cry. kick. scream. yell.
they would always know. that i never thought before i spoke.

or would they.
only a thirteen year old trying to make sense of her life.
please read generously
i would if i could but i cant.
Brent Kincaid Nov 2017
He has little sense of sorrow,
He thinks of fond tomorrows.
He’s a fabulist, a dreamer.
Not quite a true schemer
That would be too hard.
More like a half-awake bard
Making up poetic outcomes
For a reality that never comes.
Mostly he’s a ***.

He’s a moonbeamer,
Sliding down colorless rainbows
That he paints himself daily
Proclaiming about how gaily
The emptiness of his canvas
Has so sadly missed us
And somehow we are to blame
For not managing to be the same
As he is by appreciating
That which is not there.
He has daydreams to spare.

He shares his hopeful possibilities
That are not always practicalities
Made of unborn actualities
And fanciful surrealities
Painted over his shortcomings
Hoping nobody will see them
And talk too badly against them
Ahem-ing and coughing phlegm
When he orates and pontificates
On his latest boilerplate stories
Of his imagined future glories.
Lost in his own thought stream,
He’s a totally hopeless dreamer.
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