"dreampt" poems
There once was a man from kentucky
who dreampt he was quite lucky
then he got hit by a truck and contracted polio
Sep 22, 2010
Sep 22, 2010 at 9:33 PM UTC
I dreampt of you again last night ---
so sweet , it was a nightmare .
an apparition of your hand embalmed in mine .
"poofing" in the smoke of my reality come back to life .
the way you looked at me so fond ; I can never forget .
it brings the tears like a monsoon .
the time going on and on ; post -traumatic .
I age ten years in the span of two months .
living ; learning .
and I still love you .
like pneumonia that never leaves ...
there is always a risk of the sickness again .
take caution .
do I want to fall ill again ?
the second time may come to pass ---
my death would then be on your hands (yours are so lovely) .
and I am so lonely ...
Jul 5, 2013
Jul 5, 2013 at 6:27 PM UTC
I haven't written anything
In at least a month
I've dreampt about kissing
atleast three boys
Tomorrow; I'm seeing the angel of choas.
I will be brought back down.
Jun 30, 2010
Jun 30, 2010 at 6:48 PM UTC
Sometimes it was as if she sipped chlorine
from little bottle caps with yellow nails,
tilting her skeletal neck back,
balancing it on a vertebrae that popped
through the top of her pastel blouse.
Really though, she ate media on sandwich bread;
believed anything in bold with twin quotations.
She was a hint of a woman, blue eyes. Translucent,
fair, a suggestion haunted by her own demons
that she dreampt about after I stayed up, waiting
for the sleeping pills to kick
in. After the baby came she obsessed
over her thickness, was confused and destroyed
as she called it by the miracle I laid in the crib
every night. Old photographs weren’t memories,
just reminders of how she used to look.
She would scream, explode with frustration,
when the baby wouldn’t stop crying, begged
Why doesn’t she like me? But it’s hard to hold
onto a ghost, sweetie. So she swore,
and she swore that tomorrow would be better,
she would get better. But I know
that once again I’ll make her a breakfast she’ll never eat,
rock the baby back to sleep,
and loop myself around another sunrise
just to feel warm again.
Aug 31, 2014
Aug 31, 2014 at 6:31 PM UTC
I'm awake
Its nearly 2:30 am
And once again, I dreampt of you
Your eyes
They will always possess me
And I can feel your voice
Giving me chills, flooding me,
And piercing through my black soul,
Full of sorrow and full of despair.
By this, you create a feeling of ecstacy
Swimming through my veins
And shattering my bones
This is why I awake at nearly 2:30 am
Simply just to write songs about you
Simply just to get you off my mind.
Inhale me,
Let me takeover your every breath.
Flooding into your lungs,
You are now mine.
Surely until I fade away
Into thin air
And leave nothing but ashes
On the ground.
Spill out everything you're filled with;
Who knows whether your glass is half empty
Or half full
Now its on the ground
And that's okay,
Because I'm on my hands and knees
Cleaning it all up.
You remind me of stain glass windows in a church;
Some see your beauty, on the inside and out,
But they only notice when the sun gleams through your colors and cracks,
Showing off such vivid and lovely colors.
Some people,however,
They don't see your beauty. The can't fathom it.
They're the ones who throw rocks at you,
Leaving you shattered into
A million pieces
On the floor,
Not able to be loved,
Not able to be appreciated.
But, while you're that shattered mess
On the floor,
Let it be known
That I am the one
On my knees
With my fingers cut and bleeding
Picking up every shattered or broken
Piece of you
And I will mend you back together
I will make you feel whole
I will make you feel special
Because you are.
Look me in the eyes;
I'm not sure whether they remind me
Of the sound of the rippling waves in the salty ocean on a hot summer day
Or the smell of the smoking flames of a bonfire on a warm july night
Either way,
They set my soul at ease.
Things are impermanent.
We all know this too well.
Roaring fires turn to embers
Embers turn to ashes
That soon blow away into thin air.
This is why our love is not like fire.
Our love cannot be described.
"Nothing lasts forever"
Our love
Is nothing
Our love
Is forever.
2013 © O'Brien Devin Brielle
Dec 2, 2013
Dec 2, 2013 at 6:09 PM UTC
The crown is so big way over the mountain
Down passed the twigs and into the valley
When I'm with you hearts cross in the alley
On the ships of romantic shore.
The craft and the quiet are overly turning
And the rivers of heat are patiently burning
All into the night your lips I am yearning
On the ships of romantic shore.
Oh, where will they go when mornings awakened
Will they still have a glow? Will the bugs all be taken?
And when its all done may they not be forsaken
On the ships of romantic shore.
The count spoke so swift of a core that was leaking
With a calm tender grin of a line he was speaking
You don't search for Jewel's if you find what your seeking
On the ships of romantic shore.
I dreampt of a street with blankets of jasper
Gave thanks to the thorns for the flowers I capture
I will follow you down from ribbons to rapture
To the ships of romantic shore.
She was born in a tower in the month of December
Her sharp chocolate eyes I will always remember
A soul can't be lost if it won't be dismembered
On the ships of romantic shore.
If my lips would move I'm sure they would tell you
That I won't trade you tales like the serpents all sell you
I'm leaving today for the town of Saint Bell view
To the ships of romantic shore.
The fountain is clean and mercy is in it
I'll ink with my blood if a feather won't pin it
Love is made flesh if you wait here to win it
On the ships of romantic shore.
Feb 8, 2014
Feb 8, 2014 at 6:33 AM UTC
Early was the mourning
Of the glory that would pass
Cold was the night
As I dreampt of the past
In the days of old
The knights were still bold
Now its foretold
The nights will be cold
This cold night of mine
rode in on winter wind
freezing the vine
And my heart in the end
I woke to the mourning
Finding glory had passed
The knights became cold
And frozen hearts don't last
Apr 15, 2014
Apr 15, 2014 at 1:20 PM UTC
Last night I dreampt the most incredible dream
So vivid, but surely fantastic
My daughter unborn was visiting me
So timmid, yet brave and bombastic
We sat for a while, and spoke with our minds
So peaceful and exciting
Her eyes were like mine, and her soul was familiar
So conversationally inviting
Words were not needed to say what we thought
To say what was on our mind
She shared of her waiting, and her longing to be
I spoke of the passage of time
Reluctantly choosing the perfect discussion
We lovingly spoke of the future
For she is my daughter, and I am her father
But only in dreams we can nurture
Oct 29, 2014
Oct 29, 2014 at 3:11 PM UTC
yesterday i
opened my eyes
only to close them
because i was blinded
by harsh words
i needn't hear
at six in the morning
yesterday i
forced myself out
of bed and into
the shower and was
even scolded by
water that was
too hot to handle
yeserday
yesterday i
went to bed trying to
convince myself the
covers would
keep me safe
but i dreampt of
places i promised myself
i would
get over by the days end
today i
today i
today i woke up
forced myself
out of bed and
into the shower but
did not let
anything or anyone
scold me
about things i neednt hear
at six in the morning
Dec 5, 2013
Dec 5, 2013 at 1:12 PM UTC
Why do I insist on looking for solace at the bottom of all of these bottles?
I know full well that nothing in this world, nor in Heaven nor Hell, can fill the small, Gavyn-sized void in my heart and in my soul, yet still, in vain, I try to drown my misery in the suds and decanters of inebriation…
I have dreampt of you twice in the last week. That is more than my dreams have been graced by your countenance in the last year. Each time, upon waking, I have been found with a smile, painful in its hope, for waking brings the end of the dream. I spend my time chasing dreams, for dreams are so much more hopeful than the reality that my sleeping brain awakens unto.
In these dreams, I have seen your face, heard you laugh and cry and call for me. Seen you run and play and question, seen you witness the sun and the World. I have held you in my arms and felt you wrap yours around me.
This alcohol numbs the sting of this unreality, for when I awake, it is in the sobering arms of loneliness and longing and emptiness. My heart beats for you, and in your absence, continues to beat, labored and heavily.
Every fiber of my being cries out for you, every second of every day. I see my failure in the smiles of children, in the hands of Fathers and Mothers and Children entwined, for mine clasp only the pen or the pillow, the bottle or themselves.
I want to heal the pain of this world, yet I cannot find inside myself the focus to care for anyone other than you or myself, nor the capacity to heal your world, or my own.
My hope continues, beaten down and suffocating, yet alive; the hope of the ******
Whilst ****** I may not be, the excommunication from you is damning…
Am I dying, my Angel?
…Maybe.
Or am I just not living?
Try as I might, I cannot find the answer to this question. Perhaps, it is both. Dying while refusing to live.
For there is much to live for and much to die from.
Yet, my heart beats and my hope, my hope screams in whispers. Because of you.
I love you, Sweet Angel. With more than I ever knew that I possessed. These unshed tears are nothing more than unsung songs and unpenned verses in your name.
Sleep sweet, my love. Don’t forget to say your prayers. Daddy will be here when you wake up.
Dec 10, 2015
Dec 10, 2015 at 1:28 AM UTC
A boy that's good for your body
And better for your head
That's who I dreampt of
As I squirmed in my bed.
Tingling limbs
All fire and heat.
Making it hard to stay in my seat.
A boy with a soft body for cuddling
And a strong will for a healthy mind.
But above all, please let him be kind.
Oct 25, 2015
Oct 25, 2015 at 7:30 PM UTC
I dreampt of you before
I couldn't see your face
a shadow place
a shadow face
I dreampt of you once more
Who you are I do not know
Here you are again
You never show your face
You never speak a word
in the distance I do see
I see you standing there
a shadow place
a shadow face
Who are you to me?
Will you ever show your face,
or speak a word to me?
Mar 6, 2016
Mar 6, 2016 at 1:17 PM UTC
once i had a dream
of the wide blue sea
sialing so far, water splashing me
i love the little *****
they remind me of fancey restaurants
when i was growing up
i dreampt of fishing, fisheries
sciences and mainagement.
then i got lost in the big cities that
were land loocked, and i missed the ocean
where i felt so at hom
kelp swayeing in the waves
and poiporsoies jumping from the salty
so then i ran away
from the sad montony of city life
to get lost out at sea
in my hapy place.
Oct 27, 2017
Oct 27, 2017 at 3:34 PM UTC
Mr. Demon dreampt
With me wrapped in his arms
Nestled against his chest
In the light of the day
And when he awoke
He smiled at me
And said he'd dreampt
Of snowcones
Mar 23, 2015
Mar 23, 2015 at 11:11 AM UTC