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Anggita Aug 2022
I remember it was cold and quiet. We stood up beneath the scattering stars.

Silently staring at the landscape outspread in front of us, where the mountain touched the sky.

Losing count on the steps taken, you wondered how many dreams townspeople had to reach the summit tower seen from afar;

Spreading lights randomly with no purpose to guide. Little yet arrogant. Like a candlestick being put on the top of the world, accidentally.

Or maybe, incidentally placed to embody the messiah for those who would discover it that way — which might be peculiarly irrational.

Despite the lame fact, it still mesmerized you. I just knew the moment your starry eyes were seen in the dim night. And out of the blue, it captivated me too.

We sneaked from the despotic night, releasing laughs from the deepest and most untouched alley in our lungs. Our fears were freed.

Nonchalant towards the thing ahead of us, even to the time that felt prematurely withered.

"I remember once this priest brought hope to our house, and we just followed him since then", you said. That’s how you told me that miracle wasn’t the thing that kept us living, but hopes that enlightened.

Unyielding lost in the most chaotic ecstasy I have ever encountered. It became that moment when a knock on the door wouldn’t be able to break our reverie.

Modest. Humble.

We then walked unafraid through the open door that led us to the home where the sun rises.
Betty May 2022
it's a place to dream
a warm afternoon
with a thought ice cream
and idea sprinkles
tea by
the sea,
I travel
I close my
eyes, and
the soft
waves of
the pearls
of reverie,  
I will
as I have
I forget
the dew
falling from
this heart
of mine,
and heal.
D A W N Jan 2022
sometimes my thoughts speak louder
than the vision reality gives me.
pulling me into a reverie
out in this place
a poem i wrote in 2017
Coleen Mzarriz Aug 2021
It was a blurry reflection I saw in the clouds,
it was clear in the sky and as if I was facing my own body —
my legs can barely walk, my hands were trembling
and I can only open my mouth to breathe.

Though there are birds who prey on me, my wings have kept me on guard
and I stood still, alone, with my legs broken
and of little faith.

The world bestowed upon me was ruthless for someone as dreamy and a little in love as me —
I wish that sometimes I can be as hard as a rock,
so the world can see how cruel I am to her
and give me something that I can call a spark of joy.

I have beheaded myself from having to only daydream about falling in love, I have disconnected the veins flowing around my heart —
so it won't feel anything, but even the day sets down and night comes up,
I would still be in love and be of little faith, that I, part of a million particles living in on this earth — can still be held by a man whom I hold on so dearly.

Maybe if I would be less cruel to myself and nice to hard rocks, he will find me and I can walk again.
Maybe my heart that was made of soft cotton easy to be pulled by can be colorful like the blue sky,
and my face can mirror back the clouds' reflection —
and my hands can touch the end fur of the trees dancing when they see me in love wholly and less ruthless.

Maybe if I say maybe now, I can be held like I am a precious gem in his eyes and the birds won't be my enemies anymore,
they will sing wedding bells' songs and I'd smile in regards,
I will strum my harp and the only thing I can get by at the end of the day was his smile,
and that will build my little faith, and I will feel the love again, the once daydreamer, has now fulfilled her reality.

And I am back again in writing these, for myself while I continue to work and I sit here — in front of my desktop waiting for my reveries to come to life.
Writing from the perspective of Ruth.
Been a while since I last posted. Hope everyone is doing okay.
yet another quiet reverie
precursor for a life forgotten
snatched away like the dreams I never had
of lush green valleys around the mansions,
fancying a meal of venison
in a clandestine shade of night
sparkling wine was a flavour of few,
lying awake at night
with a lover by my side

raucous laughter coming from all around
kind behaviour of the family makes you astound,
as a whole rather than a half
all together cherishing your art

lives were made and ruined in the night,
take it from an artist for losing everything in sight

a kleptomaniac of not just thoughts but words to boot,
fishing for inspiration while straightening my suit

scrambling for meaning even in the delusions,
living in denial rather than waking up from illusions.
Maybe in my dreams, I'm an artist.
horseloversmyth Mar 2021
owls in willow trees
saddest of images to me

owls in willow trees
softened broken limbs in me

owls in willow trees
let mossy scars all over me

owls in willow trees
night windows time in me

owls in willow trees
now have nothing to do with me

owls in willow trees
where I have been arrives in me

owls in willow trees
more than many of each of me

owls in willow trees
past beyond memory me

owls in willow trees
now there is enough of me
Him Jan 2021
I am trapped within this reverie of revived memories; of when you were by my side.

The warmth of dawn feels as though a cruel, albeit gentle lie. My Sun...set, tis that day, when you left me with why.


Why... couldn't I make you stay? Why does everything I grasp tightly... still slip away?
These thoughts of you from a cage, that keep all logic and reason, within gaze; though beyond embrace.
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