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A composer
of the stars,
& astronaut
of dreams,
the unsung
swan of the
night, who
draws the
paintings
of her
thoughts,
the clouds
of dandelions
fields forever
in reverie,
her sigh settles
the seas of
lilac dreams,
as music
plays, she
enjoys the
indigo hues
of a bohemian
way of life,
and every
person
on this
earth is,
in their own
way, an
eccentric
of their
own hue,
upon the
painting of
life in the
microcosmos
to the lights
beyond, one
possesses
the traveler
in the chest,
a seeker of
the secret,
unrevealed
revelations,
a hidden
lover of
truth,
a flower
always
in perpetual
rebirth,  
the secret
dancer
of the
night,
musing
upon the
wisdom
of how
every
human
holds the
aubade
within the
intricacy
of their
silver
scales,
in the
deeper
tides
of eyes
meeting
to become
one in the
balladry
of being
within each
other’s gaze,
for eyes reveal
the drifters,
who sail in
the ocean
of words
and catch
her star-dew,
where she
hears the
hidden,
secluded
symphonies,
they reveal
the lights
of their
own as
time, the
mysterious
one, flows
her fabric
and they
grow closer
to one, she
watches
upon them
unfolding,
as she
opens
her wings,
they close
their eyes,
when two
had once
seeked
to be other
than the
truth of self,
from their
chests are
opening
butterflies,
they awaken
in their
cocoon,
awaiting
the voyage
to the
moon,
the poet
sits by his
window,
and softly
sung “all of
what the
eyes see
in bloom
is poetry”
Myrrdin Aug 7
You have been looking at a broken clock for years now
Always waiting for the right time to come
Carl D'Souza Jul 22
As I gaze at a cherished photographs
of my youthful travels,
I review the experiences
I enjoyed while they were happening
and now reviewing and savouring
the details of the experiences
I enjoy the experiences again.
rain down corpuscles of light
into the salty ocean waves
bend for me and smite
the darkness of this drowning cave
where I am held by the cross section
of some fourth dimensional abnormality
maybe it is just my reflection
maybe it is just my reality
something I can't seem to picture
a Corpus Hypercubus sort of memory
tied down by mental strictures
left wondering in this somber reverie
take a stride in a room full of lurking shadows,
appalling wails and whines and spellbinding
sensations that make my chest wander for the
nth time in this walled twitterpated stead of
ours — of mine.

let the intoxicating fragrance of cigarette mixed with spilled coffee of lies and sham
disguised as loud kisses and delicate nights
guide you and be enthralled at how spruced our pictures are, together with the reverie
turned into shattered dreams.

but cautions must be taken — never stay for too long for it resembles a sanctuary of invisible arms drawn around my body that reminds me of how well loved and protected i am even in darkest times, a completely stupid hoax.
Greg Jones May 16
Safe and sound back home again,
Let the fire burn bright.
Lost and found back home again,
Sing our stories all night.

So long the road for weary toes.
Rest your bones at home again.
We revere the summer’s eve,
O, the reverie.

Ran away at seventeen,
With your high school sweetheart.
Regretful head and grateful bed,
Now the family tree starts.

Golden ticket in your hand,
Given keys to your haven.
Traded that for an M16
To fight for your nation.

You set sail to find yourself
Somewhere in the yonder.
Got more questions than answers,
But was your time squandered?

Well the road is long for weary toes
Only to come home again.
Have some cheer and summer beer,
Enjoy the reverie.
Lae Mar 3
Everyone has different views- different points. Points in their life where they were lost in knowing what's really for the best. Some already had their happy ending- some don't. Some were lost in a reverie of going back to the past and undoing- while some just don't care. If i was one of those people- i would be the one who created her own tragedy. Seeing you now- i realized that you were that every great thing i lost., and that every time i think about it- not everything i've lost- was really worth losing for. You were just one of those people who lost the chance to be with someone who would treat you with all honesty and be with you at all cost-  and in that i realized. . .   That i was that every great thing i lost.
There was a time,
We were together.

There was a time,
We wandered,
Through the silent parks,
Upon the green grass,
Below the willow trees.

Once I knew not,
How strange it could get,
When you’re not there.

It’s come.
It’s come.

The time queer,
The place unknown,
And I’m not who I was.
Lost in a reverie.
Previously published on shahabistan.wordpress.com
Like a moth
Is attracted to light-
towards self destruction,
I'm attracted towards
an unknown reverie.
A venom has handicapped me
forever; venom of
contemplating nameless worries.
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