#npmdreams
There is this girl
Who appears out of nowhere
She looks at me
She smiles at me
A look that cuts straight to my core
Waking up my veins, my body, my soul
A smile that pierces through my heart
like a billion of Cupid’s arrows
On top of the other, one right on the top of the other
Then another on top of the other, arrow after arrow
Straight..
Into..
My soul
Straight..
Into..
My heart
And this is the part of the dream
Where most girls will grab your hand
Where most girls will embrace you
Kiss you, saves you
But this girl isn’t the same
Isn’t the same with most girls
This girl didn’t save me
This girl holds my hand
She smiles again
And asked “are you ready?”
And finally I am
I am ready
She didn’t save me, together we fall
No, we didn’t fall, we jumped
And this is the part of the dream where
as we were falling into each other
I woke up, I woke up
Too bad I woke up
It could be perfect, this girl
But it was just a dream
This girl..
Just a dream..
Apr 24, 2017
Apr 24, 2017 at 2:48 PM UTC
When sleeping poets do dream
Do they dream at certain times
the same dreams as us, you, or I
Long love dreams without an end
Spiders winding and toads weaving
Tiny cockle shells or huge daffodils
Cold hearts melted or fried ones too
Loves not gone the other way again
Falling off, falling in, falling down
Purpled eyed women and wiggly men
Nightmares arriving never in time
Time speeding up to stand still again
Summer nights in dripping red clouds
Rain falling up or tasting sour winds
Chased once around the world twice
Losing anyway the long way back in
Winning big green coins for jumping
slow trains to nowhere, now there anywhere,
and everywhere not here,
running on tilted electrified blue time
Inhaling the soft touch of perfect love
including all the ugly ingrown warts
Coughing up butterflies into the pool
with the squishy muddy zombie eyes
Echoes heard louder with both eyes
Coloring skies without knowing why
Flights to there with wings of flame
Swallowing rainbows to taste the gold
Colors amongst us walking, talking
Phantasmal fast riding beasts
sinuously moaning oh white *******
drifting with silver temptation winds
Tripping over sounds under tall feet
blowing them in retort not too,
but three, five and one dime more
Fantastical things, ordinary for all
Then perhaps, they maybe dream
Mostly all the same as us, you or I
Of course, that may mean, we,
Could someday be real poets, three
Yet we know the biggest difference
Between a real poet or not, must be
not so much in sleeping dreams
but in those precious awakening dreams
© 2017 Jim Davis
Apr 22, 2017
Apr 22, 2017 at 6:32 AM UTC
In my dreams, we are giants
with palms wide enough to hold the earth in,
keeping it still, freezing the human
machinations below and watching them
run about like ants when we let go.
In my dreams, you take the stars
out of my eyes and put them
in your mouth, constellations on
your tongue that I can't make out, and then
we make out, those stars mingling
between us, sizzling and sharp, cutting
the insides of my cheeks like razor blades.
In my dreams, you are hungry
and cruel, so when I wake up to the ruins
of a love that looks more like a suicide
attempt than a refuge, I find myself
wishing you had the decency to hate me.
In my dreams, we're nightmares.
In my dreams, you set everything on fire.
In my dreams, smoke curls down our throats,
and in the morning, you taste like ash.
Apr 10, 2017
Apr 10, 2017 at 4:48 PM UTC
She is always afraid of waking up
Because her dreams die when she does
Her dreams fade away
fades away into reality
fades away
fades
away..
Apr 24, 2017
Apr 24, 2017 at 9:34 AM UTC
I stealthily stepped
Along dark and intricate corridors
Walls lined with somber tapestries
Led deeper and deeper
Into the ebony blackness
Dark and eery chambers
Black oaken floors
Comfortless antiques tattered and unkept
Dusty draperies adorned the walls
I breathed in an atmosphere of sorrow
There was decay in the air
Jul 4, 2018
Jul 4, 2018 at 9:30 PM UTC
I miss the sincerity
The oblivious sort of floating
Reaching out and swimming in galaxies
It's fascinating to leave my feet on the ground
Brilliant to swim in place and breath in fluid
I couldn't feel myself
All I could feel was oxygen, molecule by molecule
The atmosphere bent around me piece by piece
I held onto nothing but I didn't drift off
I held fast to everything that I've never been able to feel
I let the universe soak my skin to my bones and chew on my lips
And my pillowcase made an excellent towel
Apr 23, 2017
Apr 23, 2017 at 5:59 PM UTC