"daymares" poems
There's no escaping these prison walls of skull and bone that nobody sees
The only thing stopping me is me, or so it seems
Look past the nose on your face, I'm beggin' you please, hear my pleas
My nightmares roll over into daymares, you get to look forward to your dreams
©2023
Dec 20, 2023
Dec 20, 2023 at 6:10 PM UTC
Time flies at the
event horizon.
Started small
when I arrived
barely
baby fish size
grew
and
knew
everything
I did
not
know
tho
I now
stand
elongated in the event horizon
the black hole has me in its
grasp
half-awake
half-asleep
my eyes are open
but in a trance
as images pour into
the darkness below
as pieces and particles
of the galaxy we know
and do not know
fly by.
I recall your whisper
in my ear
mother dear
the night before you died
telling me of the art to
be created in the summer
sky
I am in surrender to these
forces
as every moment of my
self flies bye.
Some nightmares
some daymares
some hearts on fire
salted tears of desire
the black hole shines
in darkness,
nothing can escape
no amount of money
will buy your way out
everything you owe will
be left behind
we can only sail
through that black hole
alone
birth or death
no one knows
some peace is made
and then
we go.
Sep 30, 2014
Sep 30, 2014 at 8:56 AM UTC
No one knows the horrible thoughts within my head,
I grow tired of faking normal.
I look into the mirror and hate who is staring back.
The daymares are worse than the nightmares because they come without warning.
It is hard to fake normal when the daymares come and tears stream and the shaking begins.
I run for a place to close a door and lock it.
Lock out the world and grab my hair and pull and pull so hard that I try to pull the scenes out of my head.
I see them over and over every day. I hear the sounds. I lose my breath when the triggers come.
I tell my doctor that I am tired of faking normal.
I ask for medicine that will make me feel numb.
He asks me, "When was the last time you were happy?"
I pause, I think. I don't remember.
My family doesn't understand so I have to fake normal.
I tell him I don't know how much longer I can hold on. Do something.
He says. I want you to seek counseling.
NO. It doesn't work.
Please.
NO. Just give me something so I won't think anymore.
I know that this PTSD is winning. Faking normal is coming to an end.
My doctor looks at me for the first time with the saddest eyes and says, "I'm worried about you."
I think to myself, You should be.
Aug 10, 2013
Aug 10, 2013 at 10:21 PM UTC
Makes demons scatter
They cower in distant lands and await skyfall when only incandescence provide small detours but never refuge.
Sleep ?
Is a demon's bazar
They whirl and cavort gleefull that I have let them in on these rare occasions,much lost time to recapture.
Spectacular spectres. Portents.unbridled daymares with thundering flashing hooves,they gallop with boots reversed in silver stirrups.
A bagpipe dirge is on rotation as goblins and cadavers saunter in with dead carnations pinned where lapels should have been but by now only rotting and putrid skin.
Chain lightenin creases the night.
An eerie glowing light pulastes from atop twin peaks.Castle Frankenstein sits one hundred feet above the witches haunt. An antlike procession crawls to and fro between. Lost souls seeking refuge or small comfort.
Jul 24, 2014
Jul 24, 2014 at 5:29 PM UTC
the dark of my room,
the dark of your eyes.
both so convincing and so consuming.
both so safe and so relaxing.
i wish the clounds would go away
and leave us here to breathe,
i wish the sun would shin all day,
and leave us here to see
the beauty in this world is all around
in the homeless,
in the hopeless,
in the wealthy,
in the secured.
everything had a touch
and a smell that is familiar to our forgotten memories,
or thoughts locked away in old rusty caves.
they come out to play,
when you ask what i did when i was young.
i am young-
when i'm with you
in your strong arms
when we are lying in your bed,
whe you are stuck in my head.
my head it sounds like a beating drum,
i swear you should hear it
it starts when your around.
around around this emotional merry-go-round
a shot in the dark
the target was you,
you in the dark with me, always leads to something new.
ideas fly through me,
of running away
or maybe just to stay.
who knows what roads we will take to get us there.
there and here,
home is where the heart is,
the heart is where the mind will follow,
my mind on you
and the beauty in the dark
of this fake wonderful world.
goodnight.
Feb 6, 2013
Feb 6, 2013 at 1:54 AM UTC
Why do people leave me?
Why do love only give birth to be slaughtered by your hands?
I am so afraid.
You won’t listen.
You won’t tell me the words I want to hear.
I bring myself into the fires as I scream and smoke fills my lungs and the fire licks my body angrily - the same way your hands are all over me. I scream. Nightmares.
Daymares.
Reality.
I wish I didn’t end up like this all the time
I have a tortured soul, and one day, Jung and Nietzsche told me, I will too, become the torturer
But ******
I fight, and I fight it so hard
I fight so hard to not hurt others
It’s all I ever do
I fight, and
I fight but I never seem to win
I had given in, accepted my fate
Why did you have to tear down
all
I
built
?
Maybe this all I really am;
a punching bag;
dust;
pulp;
Please, one time.
Help me up before you throw me out the window.
Next time, don’t let them get so close.
Don’t let them
Them
and
me,
against the world.
I should know better.
I sink.
No metaphors.
No similes, please.
No poems. Please.
Just empty words after all.
Yes, beautiful. But
empty.
...
Take it all away.
Please.
Leave your knives,
leave your swords,
leave your guns.
Stop killing me.
Stop.
Please, stop me before I dive into the dark, freezing ocean -
there is nowhere for me in this world.
So, to sleep.
Perchance to dream…
and all of that.
Let’s be true.
I don’t really know Hamlet’s soliloquy.
But **** Shakespeare. He doesn’t know how hard it is.
Ophelia didn’t drown herself so easily - I don’t sink so easily, but I still do - and every night I dream, I go away.
Forever.
I’m not alone.
I tell lies.
Okay, so maybe I’m not okay.
But when will I ([n]ever) be?
I am born with this heritage.
With this scarred soul.
And William, Friedrich, Carl…
- well, this is just another story of loneliness and giving up.
The crazy bunch.
Maybe, this is the last straw.
Maybe, I’ll finally go crazy.
The inevitable will happen.
The lonely will be left - completely alone.
The self-destructing fool,
finally, self-destructing oneself.
It’s so difficult to climb this ladder.
…
I’ll just go down.
The water is cold.
May 29th 2014
Jun 1, 2014
Jun 1, 2014 at 10:46 AM UTC
Walking into a room I know all too well
Pretending I don't want what's inside-
Temptation is a cruel monster that eats me
Yet I've trained myself to lie so well
Everybody believes me when I declare...
"I don't do this stuff anymore."
Jul 6, 2013
Jul 6, 2013 at 12:14 PM UTC
I have for you a brand new word:
Of “Nightmare” we all have heard,
But now I give you
“Daymare”.
Yes, a day of Daymares –
Those little nagging Anxieties
That grow to deep Depression.
Can I pay my bills?
Will I pass my exams?
What will people think (of me)?
We all have had those Daymare days
When all goes wrong
And nothing will go right.
Bad days
Like when my parents died,
Nervous breakdowns,
Running over a cat
And a squirrel.
Fillings falling out.
Lunch is burnt.
We’re flooded!
And many more.
Times of sadness, anger and frustration.
Times to cry.
Times when it’d be better
To Die.
So, here I give you “Daymare”:
A word I hope
You seldom have to use.
Paul Butters
Nov 24, 2015
Nov 24, 2015 at 6:37 AM UTC
Whole day I carry a burden of load in mind
A way out of this maze I desperately try to find
Rewinds it like a flashback in a slow moving film
Was he at fault or wasn’t I unfair to him?
Then there’re words that I would rather not have said
They raised some eyebrows a few enemies made
In course of the day they make me sulk and fret
Agonizing mishaps breeding gallons of regret!
Add to that my actions that might have caused a hurt
Sweet bonds loosening relationships coming apart
I’m tormented by these diurnal horrors the recurrent day-mares
Be sure they’re much scarier than any of your nightmares.
Aug 30, 2013
Aug 30, 2013 at 7:05 AM UTC
Gazing with both eyes geared to the day time sky
Written in cosmic dust made from raw diamonds
My blueprint plans are up there rolled out before me
Revealing a path I must follow with dangers that await me
Snatching pieces to the puzzle all along my journey
Shuffling with my hands I put them in the right place
I see a picture slowly start to come into my site
It’s always like a faerie tale everything that I do
Come gather around and cast upon me all your pain
A subject that has been injected into their world
I see nothing like ever before and there giving me a treat
Bit by bit they add more looking for a breaking point
Never will they find it for I get stronger everyday
More and more
(SirCARSr 4-25-13)
Apr 26, 2013
Apr 26, 2013 at 12:46 PM UTC
I have reached the point where I
don't want to sleep.
It's not that I can't sleep - I
really am so very tired, and it's
rather late, the clock jumps in
leaps and bounds. As if
the halves of hours and the
chunks of ten
are swallowed by that easy
StumbleUpon button or maybe by
my brain.
This is the point of tired when
all the nightmares and daymares and
scary, lonely dreams-to-be
come lurking in strange
ways. When I
can't place the reason for this
uncanny loneliness eating at my soul.
I keep searching for something -
for anything, if I'm honest -
that will make me
laugh once more, then I
will surely sleep. But I
can't focus. And I can't find it.
I see my old friend, the one I
miss so much it hurts, but who
I haven't talked to in a while. I see
those phantom arguments that I
always win in the shower, and which I
would surely lose in reality. I see
all those moments in which pangs of
pain struck me, the ones that are
so easily ignored throughout the day,
and now they've piled up and I am
an insomniac.
I can't sleep.
Jun 14, 2012
Jun 14, 2012 at 4:09 AM UTC
I guess the leaves are on the lawn now,
like Fall always comes and thank God for October
but too many grandparents have died this month, and
on the first day, the rain keeps
coming.
And I have been
obliterated by simple things,
like October or
the coming and going of people.
I have been
shocked silent into this room,
I am still never
sure of what left there is to say;
there are too many people that I have left with semicolons
and no following independent clauses
or independent thought.
Shake me the most awake,
or I will blanch and putter and
scream in the morning.
How nightmares upon nightmares
upon daymares
have thrown me for something—
a loop maybe? A figure-eight?
———
I have always
wondered why we collect shells on the beach.
(I know I do it too, but)
they once held life
and I am wondering why we celebrate
the shell of things.
———
I am not sure how to end this,
but in the ever so common way of ending
without really an ending at all.
Oct 1, 2012
Oct 1, 2012 at 2:06 PM UTC
desperate to jump
at the sound of the pistol
eager
early
bouncing on my toes
business business
nightmares
and creeping neck twitch
aches innumerable
breaks inevitable
frightened
falling
taking the blows
business business
daymares
no sleeping with this stitch
Jun 12, 2015
Jun 12, 2015 at 4:50 PM UTC
**“For this I am willing;
to bet against the well.”**
There were forenights after,
When I’d again see flutters;
brims and flashes in fluster:
Daymares in excessive tenors.
In an augmented thought; the lights
rearranged and jumped off spectrum;
and the unbowed remnants, with plights
to infer; to escape such fair conundrum:
“If one would take upon oneself an ascension;
laid upon a fountain of ire?”
As if to live unheathered,
Complacent and unafraid;
and how would one have it missed?
Such comely pair untinted.
“And here I write, to make believe.”
Aug 23, 2017
Aug 23, 2017 at 4:05 PM UTC
Just because I cannot sleep
does not mean I cannot dream.
In fact, I have nightmares
everyday.
Dec 29, 2014
Dec 29, 2014 at 1:29 AM UTC
My sleep is crowded
With recurring nightmares
Of failing Grade 12 French;
Standing naked and exposed;
Seeing the one you love
Love someone else;
The anxiety of an empty back pocket;
Swerving cars,
Crap falling from planes;
The inevitable chase and stumbling
Just ahead of the apocolypse.
The morning daymare news
Is definitely more frightening,
The end times more certain.
Jan 16, 2016
Jan 16, 2016 at 10:32 AM UTC
Can she slay the demons of this Earth
Her fight is nothing you would understand
Constant barrage of hell while the world watches
Nightmares....Daymares....Gifts ...Curses ... MIracles
YOU HAVE ALL WITNESSED
thats all i have to say about that!!
Mar 5, 2021
Mar 5, 2021 at 3:18 AM UTC
The nightmares I’ve had
of my black father
getting hurt
by local white people
from the police
in front of me
to the white people
in front of me
with the confederate flags
who used to threaten us for not being white
and try to beat us up at our birthday parties
try to outnumber us
but always got beat
because of how little of a joke
it actually was
Jul 9, 2016
Jul 9, 2016 at 11:38 PM UTC
An acephalic poet felt the demiurge from a field of orchids and sunlips
Tapped on the shoulder by a nagging crastination -
the immediacy of putting off both before and after now
From the soil grew daymares that bloomed into ultrasight - the undervisible beauty that comes into view when feeling soft red
I was distracted, and retracted
Jul 17, 2020
Jul 17, 2020 at 2:26 PM UTC
I’m having having nightmares whether I’m asleep or awake. My mind is feeding me thoughts I can’t take. Cold sweats from flashbacks of wasted time I can’t have back. These things I hold eat at my soul until a new flame feels old. Now the hugs cold and I’m freezing in a emotional pain that feels so bold, so physical, so real. I stay on my toes cause some cuts don’t heel.
Dec 5, 2017
Dec 5, 2017 at 6:43 AM UTC
I will spend my life
wondering if fourth level
is high enough. Quick.
Nov 1, 2014
Nov 1, 2014 at 3:33 PM UTC
counting tiles and the time we have left
pt 1
when i don’t hear back from you i get worried
my heart gets hopped up on adrenaline
getting ready for all the crazy thoughts and
unformidable daymares to unfold in my mind
i brace myself for the unknown
my mind
that wild thing i never seem to be able to control
counting tiles and the time we have left
pt 2
i imagine you laying toy like on your glass dining room table
the sacred red syrup pouring out your jugular
staining the fabric table mats your mom got from a friend
it was a funny story
counting tiles and the time we have left
pt 3
i imagine
your mother coming home and the shrill shriek
that every weakling at a funeral breaks down to
counting tiles and the time we have left
pt 4
i imagine hearing about it
and taking my hair and cutting it all off
running until my lungs would collapse
making me cheeks sting from the tears that’d become frozen
escaping from my ducts
the same way you slipped through my grasp
with such ease
like
like..
counting tiles and the time we have left
pt 5
i imagine waking up that next morning
wishing you took me with you
my petite hands clasping the sheets above my head
trying to hide
from the inevitable
yes i’d never be the same.
Nov 18, 2018
Nov 18, 2018 at 11:16 PM UTC
I wake still and far too often
with the all-too-slowly
but oh so evanescently
fading memory of her voice.
Ever since that odious event,
that heinous malevolent and
deafeningly persistent
drumming in my head
that disturbs my sleep
distracts my thoughts
and haunts the daymares
of my diminishing life.
The blaring, blasting bluster,
the eruption of molten viscous sound
that barks, yaps, yelps and yowls,
that sounds, resounds and reverberates.
How can I escape the cacophany
that threatens to enmesh me?
How can I return to the
tranquillity of a serene silence?
Feb 16, 2019
Feb 16, 2019 at 4:55 AM UTC
you needed me, and I was there
cause a friend cannot help but only care.
now I shiver, and shake, and cut
cause the daymares are multiplying –
but I can’t type a sentence anymore,
at least not to you.
I’m too afraid of what you’ll say
or think or judge
but anyway,
it’s not worth the hassle – me.
live your life, let me be.
Jan 2, 2021
Jan 2, 2021 at 1:45 PM UTC