Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
aniket nikhade Jul 2015
Always believe in your dreams
If not always, then at least for once in a while
Believe in your dreams

Always make a conscious effort and start believing in what you dream
If not for a long period of time, then at least for a fraction of second
Do believe in what you dream
Believe in your dreams.

If not quite often, then at least for once in a while, dreams do come true
Also it happens that we do come across someone for whom dreams have come true
So always, do believe in what you dream
Believe in your dreams.

Be confident of yourself in all the work that you do, believe in yourself
Be yourself so as to believe in the work that you do.
Always work with keen intent and interest
Horn your skills and develop them
Better to do the same old, routine thing in another way once the skills are developed.
Live in the present, but confident about future
Like you are confident about what you dream
Believe in your dreams.

Live in the present
Believe in the future, if not ascertain the same
Love life and live life as you like
Never give up in life, but still always remember
Believe in your dreams.

Let the mistakes of the past remain in past
Live in your present, which is obviously much more certain than anything else in the world

Like for many of us , who never forget to dream
In the same way for all of us there is something to remember
Never give up in life
Nobody knows when luck will turn back and smile
So even when you continue to dream
Do believe in your dreams
All which you have dreamt of in the past
Believe in your dreams.

Believe in yourself
Never believe in what the rest of the world says
Like it is always said never believe in what others say
Even if and even when you listen to what others say always be sure and confident of what you have got in your mind.
There are no two ways about it
Either your win the game or you lose
Either this is true or it's false
Good, better, best
Always give your best

Believe in the fact that things will get better
If not today, then definitely in the future
Believe in yourself, be confident about yourself.

Believe in your dreams
Dreams do come true
So always believe in your dreams.

Dreams make us believe something
Dreams make us believe
All the life that we live can be different
Much different from what we live on a day to day basis
Dreams do make our lives interesting in many ways.
So believe in your dreams.

We live each and every moment of our life
We do what we are supposed to do
Like we always believe in what we do.
Believe in yourself
For your belief is different from what you believe
Believe in your dreams.

Dreams do come true
If not often, then at least for once in a while
So do believe in your dreams
Nobody knows when dreams will come true
So always believe in your dreams.
I am the Raven of Dreams,
Who wanders the dreamscapes of yore,
I pluck the thoughts and memories,
That aren't remembered no more,
Shiny things in thoughts and dreams,
And babbles of treasure lost,
In memories long faded away,
In dreams that will live on.

I am the Raven of Dreams,
Who wanders the dreamscapes of yore,
My beak will tear and rip and pull,
And feed on memory's corpse,
All is food to the one who calls,
And walks the dusk and dawn,
In memories long faded away,
In dreams that will live on.

I am the Raven of Dreams,
Who wanders the dreamscapes of yore,
And finds lost things that none could find,
And brings them home with me,
The babbles I seek I will always take,
To decorate my nest,
In memories long faded away,
In dreams that will live on.

I am the Raven of Dreams,
Who wanders the dreamscapes of yore,
Up mountains so tall that no one can climb,
But I can fly so high,
Across endless plains no on can cross,
But I can fly so fast,
In memories long faded away,
In dreams that will live on.

I am the Raven of Dreams,
Who wanders the dreamscapes of yore,
Across endless seas where all become lost,
But I can fly so strong,
Through dark woods so dark no one can see,
But I cam fly beyond,
In memories long faded away,
In dreams that will live on.

I am the Raven of Dreams,
Who wanders the dreamscapes of yore,
And finds the secrets among all our thoughts,
And finds out all there is,
The paths I fly no one can go,
The treasures are mine alone,
In memories long faded away,
In dreams that will live on.

I am the Raven of Dreams,
Who wanders the dreamscapes of yore,
I pluck the thoughts and memories,
That aren't remembered no more,
Shiny things in thoughts and dreams,
And babbles of treasure lost,
In memories long faded away,
In dreams that will live on.

~I am the Raven of Dreams, a Poem of Candlemas by Bethany "Lorekeeper" Davis, February 2, 2016
Dream !
Dream !!
Dream !!!
Ever wonder
Why dreams matter?

Do we dream fiction,
Or we dream our fears,
Or we dream our aspirations,
Why do we dream at all??

Sometimes of
A drowning floods,
A ruined fort,
Babies playing around,
A chaos, a commotion,
Sometimes of loved ones
Who are long past dead,
Sometimes of the ex-lover,
Who had once been our friend.

Day dreams,
And sleeping dreams,
Subconscious dreams,
And coma dreams,
Next life dreams,
And death bed dreams,
Near death dreams,
And God vision dreams,
Dreams to see us on top,
Dreams achieved against all odds..!!

I wonder
Is not our lives,
A God's own dream?
And that's how we
move around HIM!!
Some days are
happy another
too heavy,
When our whole
world goes
Topsy turvy.

Just like scenes of our dreams,
If we become characters of HIS dreams,
Doesn't life become better understood??

If we become part of His dreams,
Can we not better understand -
Why are we stuck
in between the sea?
Why is our town flooding?
Why did the accident
**** our loved one?
Or why did our baby die?
Why did we fail?
Why are we blessed
with success?
Or just the thought

This thought makes life less complicated,
To love,
To move,
To live,
To die,
The smiles,
The cries,
We are just HIS walking dreams,

And so,

Now we don't have to blame HIM for our hard times,
We just have to wait for HIS better dreams..!!!

Just a thought...
If God dreamt...!!
In my dreams, you still look at me like you love me.
In my dreams, you still kiss me like you love me.
In my dreams, you still act like you wanna see me.
In my dreams, you still talk to me.

In my dreams, I'm pretty.
In my dreams, I'm skinny.
In my dreams I'm rich.
In my dreams, I'm a hero.

In my dreams, dad didn't leave.
In my dreams, my brother isn't *******.
In my dreams, the ones I love don't leave me.
In my dreams, I am dead.

In my dreams, you will call me.
In my dreams, when I'm upset.
In my dreams, You will soothe me.
In my dreams, You still love me.
TearsOfChronus Jun 2013
I have this box of splendorous dreams
Of tender schemes so filthy-pure

...dreams of dreaming
...dreams of living
...dreams of shining
...dreams of screaming
...dreams of giving
...dreams of dying

From it I am taking dreams
And forging broken, shattered schemes

These dreams, they see
And flee through me
And I see me and you see thee,
And dreams are me as dreams are we
Through me, and thee, they dream
And with their bodies see me scream
And all 'round me,
These dreams do shatter stitch-ed seams.

These dreams of love and dreams of skies and dreams of loving, living lies,
These dreams are yours and his and theirs and hers and its and ours and mine

What marv'lous creatures are these dreams who here upon my visage gaze!
What wondrous features have they in the light and dark of nights and days!

They touch and play and kiss and dance and love and sing and fly and dream!
They break and cut and bite and jump and hate and growl and swim and scream!

The fire slips betwixt their lips, and by their ears, between their thighs
The water dances on their hips and 'cross their fears and in their eyes

They glide and gleam across my hand and through my ebbing, whirling mind
They drift and fly across the sands, the grains that hold together time

They twist and turn so gracefully upon their silken, goss'mer strings
And on their tight-rope act of daze they sing and
Glide and
Ride and
Glow and
Show and
Die and
Fly and
Mate and
Hate and be...and...and...

I've got a lovely box of dreams
Sitting here,
So filthy-pure...
Pierre Ray Mar 2012
Chronic, demonic, eccentric, magic, poetic, tragic! Dreams it seems of comical or unusual! Visual sights of many sites! Plenty fights, heights, nights, plights and lights! Dreams it seems of chimes, crime, gleams and grime. Moonbeams, rhymes, screams and times. Dreams it seems as they attempt to tempt with contempt! Some become exempt
and unkempt! Dreams it seems of afros, arrows, buffalos, rainbows

and sparrows! Ample, purple-apples hung from chapels! Dreams it seems of hurdles and simple people as pimples jumping from steeples! Dreams it seems of the begotten, forgotten and rotten. Dreams and themes of cotton candy clouds! Crowds in shrouds! Dreams it seems
of the dandy and handy! Glories and gory stories of the holy or unholy. Dreams it seems of crud and mud! The loud and proud! The

vowed and wowed! Dreams it seems of blood and floods! Dreams it seems of amazing, crazing and gazing! I’m phrasing; “Is this a dream a scheme or hell?” Well I couldn’t tell! As I began to scream and
yell! Those streams of dreams that I dream… Dreams that I may, these dreams that I say. Dreams it seems in dreamy dismay.
James Jarrett Mar 2014
She is beautiful when she dreams
Dreams of yesterday, dreams of tomorrow
Soft smoky dreams of places far, times long past
Hard, wanton dreams of blood and steel
And dreams of misted green fields
wrapped in the scent of a spring morning
Cloud shrouded dreams of mountaintops
Caressed by gentle sunny breezes
Dreams of the milky moonlight
Wrapped about the night like stark lace
Passionate dreams of love and laughter
The taste of hot skin and warm tears
Desirous dreams
Of life, of meaning, of fulfillment
Dreams of romance that make her eyes shine
Dreams of lust and adventure that make her glow
I see her reposed, dreaming her dreams
White as ivory, fine and chiseled
Eyes closed, lips full, peaceful and content
She is beautiful when she dreams.
Yes, that last one was too much of a downer to end a Friday with  so I posted this old thing.
S Oct 2011
Sweet dreams until we meet again.

Sweet dreams while your heart slumbers.

Sweet dreams from this cold world we fend,
Sweet dreams, sweet dreams again.

A lullaby, A broken dream. 
A memory not remembered.

Do no be afraid of end,

Sweet dreams, sweet dreams again. 

No tears shed, No light granted

Just peaceful, silent bliss,

No wars fought, no blood bled,

Sweet dreams, sweet dreams again.

A broken heart can mend itself,

If not completely whole,

A broken smile can still shine full,

Sweet dreams, sweet dreams again.

A pain so deep, one can’t confess,

A daring tongue in cheek,

A gaze so strong, that can transfix,
Sweet dreams, sweet dreams again.

You’ll be held near, so close your eyes,

Let everything unfold,

Throw out your harm, let it all die.

Be sweet. Sweet dreams to you.
Mateuš Conrad Jul 2017
my cat loves watching cigarette smoke
in the night,
while i love watching clouds,
but what consecrated us
      within a similitude
   being brought into this world,
finding humanity, fast asleep,
   if not in the least: lost to sleep,
as if they were beyond medical
attention, comparing dreams
   to automations of imagination,
imagination become rampant;
for why would dreams be a mystery,
is they are only un-inhibited
representations of imagination?
why do dreams deserve a respect
to be treated as something mysterious,
when they are nothing but robotic
forms of imagination?
   robotic? yes, in terms of being
    beyond conscious control...
there is nothing mythical, nothing
freud-orthodox about them...
       they are rampant imaginings
that never tread the path toward
fruition... it's not that they are
              they are natural inhibitors
of what day-dreams are...
                            the real inhibitors...
let's talk about enzymes...
there is no worth interpreting dreams,
unless you're poised to craft
a trade with your *******...
           dreams = inhibited imaginings,
infectious, when the mind
is at "rest", posit coordinate 0,
which sleep ought to be...
             a denial of all conscious
activity... dreams are, ergo,
comparable to *******,
   i.e. a self-****...
                             it is better to treat
dreams as an omni-nonsense
   than a labyrinth with a minotaur...
i hate dreams...
           for what's it worth
i also don't believe in the western
diatribe of
   a subject-object dichotomy,
let alone a dualism...
to me dreams are akin to any other
virus infection...
                  esp. when people note
having recurrent dreams...
             i came into this world
and found humanity fast asleep...
  toward not asking,
but nonetheless writing this,
i asked for one "virtue"
and one "virtue" alone...
                 please, bar my infectious
capacity to dream...
          since then,
all my dreams have become nonsense,
for how can i trap light
     and then create a cinema
from exposure to this light,
in my sleep?
                       i appreciate
that i can stare into a light-glorifying
orb, and then see a geometric form
x-rayed onto a blank slate of focus...
but the complexity of dreams...
the narratives...
              there really isn't an
interpretation of dreams,
        to be a disciple of freud...
                      unless you have a lot of
time to waste and be bound to be
looking up your own ****...
                  to me dreams are
            like a sun within a black-hole...
there's light coming from the ultimate
    dreams are like the rebirth of a star...
light from the most hidden
         that is bound to originate in sleep...
i simply find dreams exhausting,
and too juxtaposed, to find a worthy
narrative, and subsequent interpretation;
at loss, to begin with,
   if ever to begin with,
         should genesis = zenith,
  if not, given the expression
                and regressive attitude
                          it not be: genesis = nadir.
I have dreamt of dreams that make you smile.I have dreamt of dreams that dream for themselves.I have dreamt of dreams that brings peace.I have dreamt of dreams that brings hope to a divided world.I have dreamt of dreams that make you think.I have dreamt of dreams of the soldiers in Iraq.I have dreamt of dreams that can bring tears to your eyes.I have dreamt of dreams that have an everlasting impression.I have dreamt of dreams of soaring through the endless sky.I have dreamt of dreams that show what will happen in the future.I have dreamt of dreams that dreamt of my dreams of my past life would have came true.I have dreamt of the dreams that Martin Luther King has once dreamt.I have dreamt of a dream that can only be dreamt by me,for this dream I have never dreamt,but only dreamt this dream once,it was a dream that showed me what it would be like with two parents.
copyright Randy Wiafe 2010
Heather Elise Feb 2015
In my dreams a publisher sees my work and tells me they think I've got a real shot

In my dreams the ratio of rejection to acceptance letters in my inbox is not quite as depressing as it is in real life

In my dreams I am not editing my suicide notes and calling it poetry

In my dreams I never burned all my best work in my mother's fireplace when I was seventeen

In my dreams I can finish an entire project before the fear consumes me and causes me to walk away halfway through

In my dreams I am not bitter over the success of others

In my dreams I know where the line between courage and cowardice truly is

In my dreams I have never once thought of giving it all up

In my dreams I am brave

In my dreams I am unwilling to compromise

In my dreams I am tearing out my insides and throwing them down on the floor

In my dreams I am offering myself up as a whole and not as broken parts

In my dreams I am shouting I am here look at me

In my dreams I am exposing my open wounds and I am not asking to be healed

In my dreams I am cutting out my heart and I am not asking to be loved

In my dreams I am inadequate and insignificant and small and I wouldn't change that for the world
Koketso Hlahla Sep 2019
It’s what every guy does.
Faithfulness and loyalty are a thing of the past, just like chivalry.
Anyone who possesses those traits is vintage because our era does not love the way we’re supposed to.

In our own right, we’re all liars and karma usually does rounds, and it’s not too long till karma will read you your rights - you have the right to remain silent.

Anything you say can be used against you in the court of law - courtship was how it started.

You see, I had a stable relationship with my dreams and things were getting pretty serious.

I was loyal to my dreams for as long as I could remember. I used to open doors for my dreams, make sure my dreams stayed fed and I even had to cut ties with people who didn’t have the vision or perspective to see further than where we were - I cut off the blind.

Till this day, some of them still wonder why. Stevie, Wonder.

I would live for my dreams because dying for my dreams actually wouldn’t make sense but I worked on my dreams like I was dying tomorrow and all I wanted was to live long enough to have loved the doubt of my dreams.

One cold day, my dreams were out on business. It was one of those days where I could work from home, but my dreams couldn’t. My dreams were away on business and the bed got cold.

I was never used to sleeping alone so I hit up an ex, or two. Insecurities never pass up the opportunity for a late night ******* and neither does doubt.

This is a twisted *******, because my dreams are now tangled in a love triangle - or a love square ... I don’t know but whatever it is, it’s reshaped my vision and now from working out everyday, one night turned it all around and now I’m out of shape, still moving but in a circle. I’ve been around, but not long enough for a pattern to form - I gave up.

Faithfulness and loyalty are rare and outdated and chivalry is a thing of the past, and one would be considered vintage for possessing those traits.

Much like me, I don’t possess those traits but I’m a traitor to my own society.

I believed in myself long enough for the sight of greatness to manifest but one unfaithful night made me regress and now I’m broke.

I spent all my ambition on land that isn’t fertile. I thought I was planting my greatness so it could grow but I was burying my greatness and I realized I had let it go.

We don’t Resuscitate dreams, we replace them. Well, I do.

I promise to have and to hold you, in sickness and in health, till death do us part.

What ushered most into matrimony, tied me to the death of my dreams. Till death, do us part.
tina lombardo Nov 2018
in my dreams your there
in my dreams you're talking
in my dreams you're laying there
in my dreams your standing there
in my dreams im watching you there
in my dreams im watching you sleep
in my dreams i'm holding you there
in my dreams i think how lucky i am
in my dreams im happy
in my dreams i have no worry
in my dreams i don't wanna wake up
in my dreams i with you there
in my dreams i don't wanna wake up
but in my dreams i do n its back to reality and i wait for night again hoping to have the same dream
Moving at the speed of light,
Traveling on a moon beam at night,
There's a place where everything is what it seems.
I just close my eyes and there you are, in my dreams.

There's a land that has no dimensions and knows no time.
I am the ruler of this land and it will always be mine.
In this domain I am the king and you are my queen.
This place is my kingdom here in my dreams.

In my dreams is a place
Where I will always see your face.
I can love you without fear that away from me you might lean.
I know you will always be here, in my dreams.

In my dreams there's nothing I can't do
Your fantasies are mine and mine are for you.
When I'm with you I know my eyes have a gleam.
You make all my fantasies come true, in my dreams.

In my dreams for you I can fight
Whether I'm wrong or whether I'm right.
Even if what I'm doing is a sin or so it seems
I will always win, in my dreams.

In my dreams I can be your man of the hour.
I can slay the dragon and free you from the tower.
Anytime and anywhere for you I can plot and scheme.
It doesn't matter if it's day or night, in my dreams.

In my dreams I can take care of your every need that could ever be.
I know that here in my kingdom you will forever be with me.
I want to take away all your pain so your love I will redeem.
I know, no matter what happens you will always be here, in my dreams.

I know when I awake you'll be gone,
But that's OK because it won't be for long.
All I have to do is close my eyes and ride down that moon beam,
And there you'll be waiting for me, in my dreams.

Ciera Nicole Oct 2013
The darkness comes when she closes her eyes.
Her body completely shuts down.
The slow moving heart beat, the soft even breathes.
Tell me again why she only sees flaws?

Her mind retraces her heart's wishes.
She dreams.
She dreams of a bright sky and lovely grass.
She dreams of the changing seasons with every color of the rainbow.
She dreams of the chirping birds and prancing deer.
She dreams of the salt water waves.
She dreams of the intoxicating tree lines.
She dreams.

When her heart wishes a little harder, she dreams once more.
She dreams of love.
She dreams of the perfect guy.
She dreams of *** and lust.
She dreams of kisses and cuddles.
She dreams of robbery.

All while her mind wanders the outside world moves forward.
The clock continues to tick it's minutes by.
It robs her of her fantasies. Of her desires.
When the clock chimes, up she rises.

Back to reality.
Back to the cruel world.
Back to not being able to see her dreams.
Right in front of her.

Why? Why? Why is so distant now? Why can't she just connect it all together?
Because even though her mind is beautiful in the realm of dreams, in reality it's quite the opposite.

She struggles - but no matter how bad it gets, no matter how many cuts she has, she lives for the chance to dream once again.
And when the sun falls beneath the horizon.
That she repeats. Once again.
JEG325 Nov 2019
If dreams had wings, I’d fly deep into the night
to bring you back to me so I could hold you tight
If dreams had wings, we’d meet together on the moon
Knowing this moment could not be happening too soon

If dreams had wings….If only dreams had wings…

I reach for you from across my empty bed
I keep thinking of all the angry words we said
Two hearts crashing on the rocks near the shore
Hurt because somehow we lost forever more

For us the moment never seemed to be right
We quit on love too soon, we didn’t even fight
I let you slip right through the palm of my hand
Only too late did I finally understand….

If dreams had wings, I would give you your own star
and name it for the beautiful person you are
If dreams had wings, I’d walk across the Milky Way
to show my love and promise forever to stay

If dreams had wings….If only dreams had wings…

For a moment I watch a shooting star goes by
I’m so alone, I just want to break down and cry
We loved each other more than life it seems
Now our love is just a memory in my dreams

If dreams had wings, I’d fly deep into the night
to bring you back to me so I could hold you tight
If dreams had wings, we’d meet together on the moon
Knowing this moment could not be happening too soon

If dreams had wings….If only dreams had wings….
A country/ soft pop song lyrics with a touch of gospel wistfulness.
Jacqueline Anne Feb 2015
I dreamt about you last night
tripping in eyelid flutters,
drifting in bizarre slumbers
entranced by illusions of you.

If only our dreams were true.
Wishes, dreams, at night with you.
Dreaming wishes to come true.
Just so that I can see you.

I dreamt about you last night
in my woozy sleeping arms held
you tight. In reverie we
left heartache behind to live.

If only our dreams were true.
Wishes, dreams, at night with you.
Dreaming wishes to come true.
Just so that I can see you.

I dreamt about you last night.
Imaginary laughter,
chimerical and hazy
fantasies enchanting us.

If only our dreams were true.
Wishes, dreams, at night with you.
Dreaming wishes to come true.
Just so that I can see you.

I dreamt about you last night,
told you everything will be
alright. Moments together
we will treasure forever.

If only our dreams were true.
Wishes, dreams, at night with you.
Dreaming wishes to come true.
Just so that I can see you.

I dreamt about you last night,
and awoke in a gloomy dawn.
Wonder if you dreamt of me
knowing you do you love me.

If only our dreams were true.
Wishes, dreams, at night with you.
Dreaming wishes to come true.
Just so that I can see you.

I dreamt about you last night
eternally keeping you in
my sight. Our eyes will meet one
day, embracing our faces love.

If only our dreams were true.
Wishes, dreams, at night with you.
Dreaming wishes to come true.
Just so that I can see you.

Wishing to see you,
dreaming of you.
Loving you forever.

©Jacqui Slade
Nomad May 2014
Little dreams,
is all we have to hold,
little dreams now,
even through the cold.

Living through,
what might as well be Hell,
it's our dreams that we hold,
and we'll never sell.

Little Dreams,
in hope for brighter days,
little dreams of peace,
even if for a moment, and hopes that it stays.

Little dreams,
start small,
then with nurture and affection,
grow large and tall, and strong,
when we offer it protection.

When we feed our dreams,
they get bigger and better,
and we all wish for things,
to go according to the letter!

The script that we write,
our pen in our hand,
we ask more from reality,
and then ask turns to demand!

We all act like we're special,
and we deserve better,
that we're expected to be hand-held and fed,
then reality hits
and my it's a real upsetter!

Little dreams
grew tall,
only to have, like humpty-dumpt,
a mighty great fall.

So with our dreams,
now shattered into pieces,
we look to the world
to find the worldly releases.

Aye, indeed, drugs, ***, *****, or money,
It's all a shame now,
and we think no-shame is still funny.
We have slogans now,
saying "You Only Live Once!"
So why throw your life away
you gorram dunce!

You too, once, were just a small child,
surely you must remember,
where you were taught to be mild!
Be polite and courteous,
and a few basic rules!
Being respectful and humble,
doesn't mean you're a tool!

Listen to yourself,
where have you gone now?
You blame the world for your ignorance,
and yet I must ask how?!

You've shut away your eyes,
and turned away your face,
it's hard to face the mirror,
when all you see is disgrace!


But I'm here to tell something,
something brand new,
as only a friend can only do,
that's my love for you.

Friendships go deep,
even the first look from a stranger,
from a child to adult,
from civilian to Airborne Ranger,
Let me tell you something,
and it's okay that you're shocked,
I understand if I came out strong,
and you feel kind of rocked.

You're not as bad,
or even half as you think you are,
you're still a good person,
a great person by far.
You haven't been perfect,
we know this so true,
but neither have I,
yeah, me too!

We're all on this Earth,
gathering our broken dreams,
when we put them back together,
it makes only a mirror it seems.
Each piece a reflection,
of who we used to be,
and when we find all the pieces
we realize,
"My dream was to"

Yes. Little dreams do come true,
every now and then,
for me,
and you.

But please don't give up,
keep picking up the pieces,
you'll get scraped and bruised a few times,
but you'll feel better than those worldly releases.
Take your time,
be thorough in your search,
maybe take a moment to listen,
to the annoying bird, that sits out on the perch.

Little dreams are made,
from the bits inside of you,
just know every piece you collect,
reflects what you say, think and do.

I've given you a rant,
a warning,
and a tip,
now be on your way to freedom,
and have a safe trip.

As you find your way
to find...
those little dreams.

As A friend, don't give up. Be safe, and God Bless.
Because not every dream has been alive,
As we hold them in our chests, in deep cavernous wells, of silence, darkness, intuition and empathy,
And we use the words that drips from these stalactites
On paper as we try to connect or connote some kind of meaning,
With an other type of human being who,
Is as lost as you are.
And whose dreams are held too tightly sometimes that they die out,
Like a flame without air.
And the in the air that is too hotly bound to the oxygen we need too,
Breeds a source of discontent for people.

And we read you,
People whose dreams have died a long time ago in the arms of, of a faltering god;
Whose responsibility you take,
Militant faith where you store an arsenal of weapons to use,
When you know you're good enough,
And when you're ready to protect yourself in the arms of something as,
Clean and crisp as rotten air,
yet there is a, heaven within us,
One that you see and try to take, use, misuse and abuse,
Wrapping tendrils of our beliefs around your fingers and pulling it, out,
Like you are pulling our hair, because being good sometimes means you have to be bad,
To enter paradise.
And your dreams lie within that attraction and it's as vulnerable as a flame.
So, you can never, stop, breath-ing.
And so we give you our breath, and we forget time is living, within us,
And that dreams, are not meaningful, unless you deem them so,
And beliefs turn to ash in our mouths, and our fingers become useless,
As our eyes,
Which are now turned inside out,
Because what is paradise, if hell is as hot as flame,
You're trying to protect?
And so the pursuit never stops, In the endless fashion,
To create something worthwhile out of nothing,
And we become clay in your hands,
And we feel you.

And we hold you,
the people, whose parents were the big bad wolf and the wicked witch,
And the monsters that you came to fear so that you hid under the bed,
And in closets,
and let your words suffocate inside of you,
And we the poets, see you, and feel you,
But, you, you, never ever see the beauty in the mirror, before you,
Created by the magic of a thousand mothers and fathers,
unable to complete the job,
And you in turn become the beast, the pumpkin, and the eternal sleep,
And finding someone to awaken you from your slumber becomes a life long mission,
There is no dream here to die out, we try to enliven you with our own,
We set you on fire in the nighttime,
The time when you believe all, comes alive, and a human touch,
That leads to an ****** or two, is the medicine you need to,
Climb, over, the, top, of, the, cliff and find, a way home;
But touch becomes emptiness, it dries up in our hands.
We are the dirt in your claws, and,
Like some thing has died, it turns to dust between your fingers,
And the more you, try to have us,
The more purple, black and yellow we become,
The smaller we grow,
in the cinders of your dying fire,
And we find beds to hide under, and closets to hide in,
Because dreams are something, not everyone can have,
So we hid ours deep enough within ourselves,
Because any flicker of any kind of intention, or emotion,
Is enough for your ancestral traumatised hands,
To try to dig it, out of, us,
By force, of necessary.
And we, feel you.

We tell stories.
Far too many of love.
Of people and love,
of a displeased marriage, whose loss of faith in love is renewed,
By someone else's smile,
That you take and wear them secretly out In a back bedroom,
Behind closed doors, behind peoples unmarked backs;
Where lost souls go to be reborn into new names and bodies,
And you take their body, and consume it,
because you were given a smile, and,
A smile in your language means some thing completely different to mine,
And this is what dreams do without air,
and won't let go of the *******,
And the alcohol,
and the ****,
and the songs that you listen to when you feel like,
You......are......dying, out,
And the fuel is running low.
There is no ******-e in this story,
But the chase is un bountiful and therefore never ending,
And we try to become everything for you,
The fairy godmother, the prince, the magic wand,
And we try to consume you bit by bit,
Eating you up, in hopes you'll grow, bigger,
And meanwhile we are posioned by the food, exhausted by being made the demon, and
The madness that sits at our table is relentless,
You, are the by-product of a lost womb, and a fatherless hand,
And our dreams flicker in your tornado,
In the storms you create, in order to ravage, some emotion,
And, we, feel, you,
Oh, my, love,
We feel you.

And we the poets we take it in,
We see it all.
We see you angry, and disatissified,
We see you breaking,  broke and broke-n,
We see you destroy, thus, we are destroyed.
Our petite precious souls, with our epic hearts, our universal souls,
And that place where we hold our dreams,
We let you in.
Because we have warm fires, Big arms, and we,
We can create magic with our mouths and our fingers,
And we can help you to forget where you are and what you are,
As you, drag your fingers, round the cavernous walls in my chest,
Looking at wonder, that I've held within me , all. This. Time.
And we, the poets, can do this.
Because we have risen before and we gently glide in the night,
Looking for the sandman to pay a visit,
So that we can rejuvenate our eyes to stop seeing why,
We are not loved, oh so much, as if not so right,
And if, how, can, why.....?

Because here within in me is where your dreams came to die,
And my fingers are like pens of withdrawal as I try to **** you out of me,
Or us. We,
Are the ones whose hearts become so heavy, you will have to hold your breath
Pretty ****** tight to dive to the bottom of our seas,
To find a dead mans locker, where our love is buried.
And your faltering god, and your displeased marriage, and the mould that grows, through your ancestry,
Is no match, for us
For we are the poets, and we tell here stories, because we can't just write, a book;
The words....just don't conjoin together enough to make, me an author, worthy of a paperback,
firewood for someone's belly,
But simple words, here are built,
To keep the flame alive.

Because we are not some flittering, falling, pretty,
little whispers of things; we do not come bearing arms,
Or a key under the mat,
Or gifts at the end of the bed.
Do not be mistaken that we are the wick to your flame,
We are not treasure hunters, we do not find gold, and silver,
We are not jewels for you to sit and pore over in the night,
We do not want to join your crusade.
Because we, the poets, are the keeper of words,
The holder of dreams,
We have caverns within our chests, so large and vast,
Dreams cannot die out, or suffocate from you.
Because you, are the stories we write about,
A million souls who use their emotions as bullets on paper,
A billion breaths weaving together inbetween rocket fuel tears,
Ignited by you, a match we use to burn a new script,
A thousand pairs of hands building a home so big,
where you can never find the lock,
Because we are the poets, and we are the keeper of dreams,
And our flame never dies out.
Joeysguy Aug 2014
In Dreams
By joeys guy

In dreams I can have it all
My wife and when my kids were small

In dreams I can bring back the years
To a time before all my tears

In dreams my wife would wait
Until I fall asleep even if I’m late

In dreams I can see my beautiful wife
Appearing to me from an earlier time of life

In dreams when my wife comes to me
She is young and pain free

In dreams I can relive my life
Showing more love for my wife

In dreams I can take her by the hand
I see she’s wearing her wedding band

In dreams I can hold her so very tight
I can hold her all through the night

In dreams we can touch and caress
Day or night my love for her is no less

In dreams I would ask her to give me more time and stay
Only till morning is what she would say

In dreams I don’t have any tears
Until morning when she disappears

At the end of night, here comes the daylight
All I can say is, in dreams I’ll see you tonight
hazem al jaber Feb 2017
Rosary dreams...

Picked up my pen...
and started to write...
writing and fighting words...
fighting with words which i pen...
maybe it will express about what inside me...
to express about the rosary dreams which i always live in...
dreams which aspire to reach the glory...

dreamed about it...
tried to work for it...
did all my best to get it as a reality...
and to be some thing...
some thing that can be an honor to me...

start writing...
write the pains which i feel about...
the pains because of those dreams...
the dreams which still not be a real yet...

our pains are because of those dreams...
dreams which we try to live in...
dreams which we saw and never to get it ,never...

but it seems so hard and difficult to be...
because the beauty dreams which we imagine...
never to be alive in our life...

maybe because of the stress which we suffer in...
and because of the oppositions in our souls...

but i will write and to express...
and its my rights to write...
to write about the life which i hope to...
at least i am writing now...
so i am alive...

dreams still dreams...
and never to be more than dreams...

by: hazem al ...
IndiGo Mar 2015
I wish God could send my dreams thru the mail
I wonder if he likes to see me fail
I wonder if i'll ever reach them at this point
It seems like everything is turning switching & flipping
I wonder if my dreams are too big for me
Or is that just the voice of misery & frustration creeping up behind me ?
What is there to do?
What is there to say?
If i pray for my dreams right now will they come in the mail today ?
These questions toss & turn in my mind daily
Trying hard not to let the voices lead me astray
Focus on my focus is what i say
Dreams upon dreams i see
Focus on your focus they said
Dreams upon dreams i saw
Tears upon tears i cry
Failure upon failure i felt
Dreams i saw
blurred out, i see no more
Tears  fell, they saw
Dry your eyes they said
To write, is what i did
Are my dreams too much for me?
They arent here, as far as the eyes can see
When I go to sleep I see my dreams face to face in front of me
My older self she said, youre dreams are so big the most you can do is imagine, not physically see.
I took in what my older self said , then i said my one of a kind self just told myself my dreams so big only i can reach them myself.
Focus on my focus i say
Dry those eyes i say
Greatness i see
when i look at me
sugar plumb Jan 2013
We had dreams
about the crystal sun
the juniper wind, apple
blossoms and glowing evenings
comfort and quietude
We had dreams
lollipops and no one crying
no pain-and love if not
solid and smiling every day
We had dreams
about great ships sailing
wind filling all speed ahead
never becalmed, no one dead,
no rotting bodies on the deck
no witness to inexplicable agony
We had dreams
garlands from gardens
nobody had to tend
ice cream cones piling
sidewalks high
shade for the asking
from every uncomfortable
ray of sun
water enough for everything
lawns and trees
flowers and livestock
children running in sprinklers
water for the taking
every day
We had dreams
soft conversations in
the lamplight, hands to hold
slim and strong whenever
we needed, voices filled
with understanding and strength
for every fear
and every tear dried
by gentle caring touch
We had dreams
that did not include random bullets
sudden death and no clouds
exploding to rain death
on helpless heads
We dreamed we would never be helpless
we had dreams
we bought on time
amortization forever
and no one would ever
have to pay the bills
We had dreams
someone would always save us
mother always did
even when she didn’t want to
even when we made her mad
even when we broke her china
and her heart
We had dreams
laughing and crying
talking into loud speakers
shouting our claims
and never thought how
to make them come true
We had dreams
of glory and taking
down every flag from every
highest hill
and no one would ever be found
face down in two inches of water
drowned on ***** and disaster
We had dreams
that did not include spit
on the sidewalk, in the gutters,
but only clean skies
and apple pie, organically sweet
every day
and endlessly billowing
wheat, and sailing ships
and all the pure water
we could drink for free
and play in
We had dreams
that we could demand pain away consequences
and guilt and the necessary play
of our dreams that mothers would
if we dreamed hard enough
and played hard enough
and the nasty old piper
never called for his fee
We had dreams
and when they didn’t come true
we had curses
We cursed the lollipops
we cursed the ice cream
we cursed the wheat
the cornucopia
the great sailing ships
and the sea
the mother
the sidewalks
the highest hills
and the trickling ditch
we cursed the livestock
and the stereos
the loudspeakers and the glory
and we cursed crying and apple pie
we cursed suffering and anguish
the pipers who demanded to be paid
the ones who paid and complained
about the mess we made
we cursed fine china plates
filled with hard-earned harvests
we cursed love and freedom
we cursed crystal sun
and shade.
Mateuš Conrad Nov 2016
they day finishes with: at last! a schoth reserve
for highlands nomads!
     long gone is the fatamorgana of soberness
coupled with a very softcore soviet sleep
experiment: i chance you to also say:
the soviet sleep experiment is a way to censor
dreams, **** it: another paul mccartney
can write another yesterday into the repertoire,
you can hear of marathon-men who did over
100 hours without sleep, and when it came to
sleeping: hour-long interludes...
as all the p.o.w's realised was the case:
stop this dream-industry of disney! stop it!
nearing 36 hours is nothing,
when i'm going to do a hiatus in Poland visiting
my grandparents i'm planning to top that,
perhaps 48... just to get the glory days of Jews
in ancient Egypt and Joseph the adviser to
the pharaoh: 7 lean years, followed by 7 years
of starvation: what we otherwise carpe diem
over-indulgence - Moses wrote the book
of disgrace... when things turned sour,
obviously he was *******, just a little bit,
from a Jew becoming an adviser to the pharaoh
by interpreting his dreams which were always
in abundance given his lavish lifestyle...
dreams come to people who aspire to lavish
lifestyle, dreams come to people who take no
pleasure from the simplest prospects of a peaceful
hermitic life... they need both the lavish life
and the lavish hope of an afterlife with abundant
dreams... they can't master the opposite:
from simple pleasures that life has to offer:
one forsakes the capacity to the need to dream...
yet those who attain a comfortable Buddhist /
bourgeoisie / middle life: through the ethic of hard
labour find dreams nonsense... only
aristocrats find meaning in dreams, because
they have enough life insurance to guarantee them
the very unentertaining life, hence the Freudian
cinema, and here is their seeking of meaning,
because outside of their sleep nod,
their meaning is already akin to a predatory creature
kept in a zoological confinement, rather than
beckoned to attest the prime element beyond
the classical elements of fire and: where was the
Japanese army bombing the hell out of that
****** tsunami to make the orca-surf shrapnel?
where? nowhere! the reporters were there prior,
i'd swear you could have done the reverse Aleppo
with that tsunami wave by bombing it and
saving lives... but no... atoms bombs were never
intended for warfare as such, they're non-profitable...
all the arms-dealers across the world make more
money from millions of bullets and thousands upon
thousands of guns being sold: atom bombs make
no economic sense... atom bombs make
no economic sense in terms of dealing arms...
the soviet sleep experiment was one of the topics
at the end of today... the other was feline pavarotti
in a cattery: i swear to god that ginger is acting
too much like a bloodhound... moans all the ******
time, i've heard every kind of Tosca, but a cat's Tosca?
never in my life has a cat so many variable versions
of meow... animals really do possess their owners,
but in a way that shows the owners to themselves...
a poem a day: keeps the psychiatrist away.
and back to the soviets, who discovered Yiddish
dream-factory ******* that only applies to
aristocrats akin to Wilhelm Oedipus II,
    i never understood why people desired so much
from dreams, pure unconscious doesn't allow it,
it's shallow dreaming that becomes easily swayed
by a decreasing poignancy of the senses that
creates dreams, and as we've already been told:
they're bound to millisecond intervals -
snoring can be seen as a prompt for dreaming,
but then pure unconscious that's beyond the sensual
realm of pulverising you with everything external
          doesn't allow dreams, because it allows rest...
the subconscious makes more sense in terms of dreams
than what it currently prescribed,
             on the fully-waking hour of what people call
reverse-psychology (popularly), or who people can
influence you and treat you as a pawn...
   in the waking hour the theory of the subconscious
is that it's somehow there, and it's brimming with
theories ranging from the unitary stealth workings
of a superego, to advertisers competing for your
attention, as in: how can this person be manipulated?
that's the strain of thought working from consciousness
where you are said to have: no free will,
no critical approach toward the world with thought,
that you are naive and gullible...
  such people do exist, because they're not working
on the subconscious from the unconscious position,
hence they are most probably highly-developed dream-machines,
they probably even dream in colour and remember
dreams vividly... but take all the things i said
about the subconscious from a conscious pinpoint
and invert the starting point from an unconscious
pinpoint, and all that manipulating dynamic that
the subconscious is supposedly is fed fades
   to simply expose the subconscious as the medium
of dreams, whereby dreams appear from a sensory
hush of all external factors... a few days back i dreamed
i woke in a bed covered in cobwebs and spiders crawling
in them... the last thing i remember looking at?
my pet incy-wincy hanging on a silken web in
the corner of my room... for this to be true,
and for all that pompous subconscious theoretical *******
to go away, to actually work on the subconscious
having a dream reality rather than a reality of
being easily swayed by superego or advertisement
and willingly giving up your will to external factors
that go beyond mere senses... you have to acknowledge
at least 36 hours of the soviet sleep experiment, clock:
no nodding.m i've set the threshold,
the junkies did over 100 hours without sleep,
but they were army material, i'm... dunno.
              a break with an article on melanie martinez,
and then back into today's end...
    it's pouring cats & dogs outside, and will so
throughout tomorrow, one of the street lamps has
turned itself into solitary disco strobe...
   e.e.m. (epileptic eye movement)
           vs. r.e.m. (rapid eye movement) -
the difference? the latter invokes the theatrical curtain
of the eyelids... the former invokes your eyes
having rolled to the back of your head so you only
see the sclera...
but a real life problem too!
in these pseudo-capitalistic societies, companies
have started to do the Pontius Pilate tactic,
they are companies without employees,
what they want are subcontractors, people who
are self-employed, because actually employing
employees is bad business for them: you have to
have a pension fund... and what capitalist wasn't
old people getting money for doing nothing?
most construction companies are following this trend...
but the problem with that is that these companies
are employing useless managers, construction
site managers that should be on a site for at least 2
days a week... even 3... so they can get the knitty-gritty
of organisation done and the project runs smoothly...
but as i've already known for months,
say a roofing company from Gloucester is given
a London-based contract... it has employed a
project manager... who 1st of all doesn't have the right
credentials to be a manager... and this pleb travels
to London from the village of Gloucester
and is on a construction site for about half an hour,
doesn't make any notes,
and spends the rest of the time being a ******* tourist
in and around London, a day like this happens,
an authentic waterproofing problem...
   so you have these flats near the city airport,
and they're connected with walkways and have planters
too... you lay the concrete, then do the waterproofing:
primer, hotmelt, fleece, hotmelt, felt.
                  now the problem, why impose self-employment
and also employ parasitical managers who know
jack **** or are interested in selfies on tower bridge?
only because they can get a cheap train ticket back
to the village of Gloucester before the rush-hour commute?
the problem is simple, or hard, depends whether
there's an actual plan and someone is bothered..
four elements...
       1. drainage matt,
             2. pebbles,              3. filter layer
and 4. ~artificial turf... plastic-like, not asphalt,
     i grant it a status of artificial asphalt,
  or turf coloured copper...
the debate ranged about where the filter layer should go,
but there was no manager with the appropriate
method statement to give... the ******* crane arrives
at 8am, and he texts the day before that he might have
an answer by noon... or that some other manager should
be consulted to the method statement...
i suggested that first: the drainage matt, then the pebbles,
then the filter layer and then the artificial asphalt...
   the other suggestion was: drainage matt,
filter layer, pebbles and then the artificial asphalt
        given that pebbles will never be spread like
a plateau of concrete, meaning there will be pockets
beneath the artificial asphalt to soften the walk
and give more spring to the step...
                  and then i read a newspaper in england
and start to think: are these the only people on an actual
payroll? with safety in retirement schemes?
          i used to think of journalists as daring...
Watergate journalism that did something...
               then you turn on the 24 news channels
and state media is no different to free-enterprise media...
     as people my age say: television is really
a piece of 20th century antiquity... who gives a ****
that millions watched a man walk on a moon
on it... at least a billion people watched the cinnamon
spoon challenge from some ******* on the internet!
     or that guy who gave his cat l.s.d.,
or that guy who jumped off tower bridge and caught
pneumonia and had to be rescued...
still, the rain is ******* down, i've got my headphones
on, and that rebel street-lamp has turned into
a discoteque strobe's of needy rhythmic epileptics -
as every: i count most psychiatric terms in popular
use as undercover poetics, people who don't read
poetry, nonetheless apply psychiatric terms
   an unilateral transcript of denoting them as metaphor(s)
in everyday sprechen; and yes,
our informal vocabulary usually suffers for the fact
that we have chosen a fixed (courteous, hierarchical)
formal vocabulary, that erodes any chanced deviation
akin to a cat-stretching: e.g. (a) so and so died,
(b) oh, i'm sorry,        (c) and you're the one who
brought back the resentful Lazarus?
(d) as if you could have, prevented the inevitable;
a conversation between four strangers.
J Allan Jewell Nov 2012
There was a boy who followed his dreams
Up a mountain and thru a stream
No matter the distance no matter the means;
Everywhere it went this boy followed his dreams.

There was a boy who followed his dreams
They ran and they hid- or so it seemed
From a little boy till he turned eighteen
There was a boy who followed his dreams

There was a boy who followed his dreams
Till it switched directions and couldn’t be seen
He sat and he cried- his hands on his knees
Wondering why does he chase his dreams?

There was a boy who followed his dreams
But they always left him lost and without a thing
So the next time they ran and he did not follow
This little boy’s dreams began to hollow
As time grows slowly but also fast
The boy lost his dreams and left them in the past

But with these dreams what comes of these?
Do dreams disappear?
Or do dreams just dream?
Wishes and false promises
On moonbeams and on stars
A year of dreams and nightmares
Of newly healing scars

Dreams are a seduction
An illusion of the mind
Dreams are for the children
They are movies in your mind

Age tones down those images
Dreams forgotten in the wake
Dreams vanish in reality
And that's the form they take

A dream left in the storeroom
Of a mind, with room to grow
Will flourish and grow steadily
And be shared for all to know

Dreams, are our existence
In the real world and the night
Dreams are full fledged wishes
That will die if not made right

Never lose the child
Keep dreams and wishes near
Keep fairy dust in packets
Of the darkness have no fear

Dreams are just illusion
but illusion isn't real
a heart can be un-broken
if you dream that love is real

share your dreams and feelings
write them out and read them too
never lose the dreams or wishes
they keep the child light in you.
Ralph Albors Mar 2014
I used to dream dreams
So grand not even I believed them
Dreams about power, dreams about love
Dreams about flowers, dreams about lust

But reality killed the dreams in me
Crushed them like none of it mattered
And part of me felt empty, devastated
Yet another part felt proud but isolated

That was when I became part of society
Following people for no apparent reason
Nobody told me why I should
But I thought it was because I could

After a few years of being a nobody
I realized there was a spark in me
And I could turn it into a fire
If only I had enough hope and desire

So I started a journey to discover new places
See why people were how they were
And I found out people's dreams get crushed
Just like mine did when into society I was ******

Everyone I met once had big goals
But now they were just part of another world
And in that world dreams were fulfilled
But here all those dreams were killed

And I cannot believe how we ended up like this
How we could destroy our dreams
Just to be part of something more
That people hate and abhor

And there I was, thinking how to make it better
When I concluded that no turning back was possible
To this conclusion I arrived at a young age
Although I keep dreaming of breaking out of this cage

Because people only worry about money
They hate to live with a small stipend
Even though some people want to make it their own way
Most of us stay with materialistic values

And now a bigger dream has awoken inside my body
Not to be like the rest, to be myself
To keep dreaming the dreams I once dreamt
To be someone worth being kept
This was one of the first poems I ever wrote. It is a bit cheesy, and I never really liked it, but I think it ought to be published somewhere.
Äŧül Apr 2013
It was nightfall,
I felt very sleepy,
And I dozed-off
To the stud in my

Oh how strong he was!
All muscle unlike my body,
Stiffer, stronger & ***** he was!

She gave a bath,
And a massage too,
To the stud in my

She caresses it sweetly,
And she kisses it too,
Yes, the stud in my

She kissed my stud,
A bit too much and,
The stud spewed its stomach
Out on her face,
In my most wild

The girl's eyes were,
Teeming with tears,
To the stud in my

As she was happy,
Tears were of joy,
To the stud in my
111 Words Of
My HP Poem #150
© Atul Kaushal
aniket nikhade Aug 2015
Reach out for the stars high up above in the sky
Reach out for your dreams all of those which you have prior seen.

Never did it happen before
Nor will it happen again
The dreams which were yours
The one’s which you came across
Never will it happen that the same will be yours all over again
A dream comes once in a while
You never get a chance to dream about the same all over again in your dreams
Dreams and imagination are different from each other
As different as chalk is from cheese.

As long as you are living and alive
As long as you live
The life that which you live, live your life to the best of your spirit and imagination
No one knows what will happen next
No one knows what will happen in the future
No one knows what will take place at the next turn
Life has always remained unpredictable
So keeping the future at bay
Make sure that as and when you go to sleep
Don't forget to dream
Smile upon all happenings of the day that passed by
Say hello to your sleep, which is waiting to take place
When all this is going on in your mind before you go to sleep
Make sure you don't forget to dream in your sleep.

As long as you dream in your life
Whenever you dream
Always be sure in your mind
You will always follow your dreams all along the way in your life.

Always dream, but make sure that life and dreams are two different things
In life it never happens that all of your dreams come true
So not seldom, but as often as it may be possible
Always make sure that you work in the direction of your dreams
Since dreams are part of your life
Try to achieve them
In doing so, you try to achieve the impossible
When you are doing something like this, definitely the future will reciprocate accordingly
So always dream
Even when you know that dreams don't come true
Still always dream
Dream about something when you are about to go to sleep
Good night and sweet dreams.






jake aller Mar 2019
World According to Cosmos Updates March 3, 2019

Note: I am taking a two week trip to Vietnam and will update my blog when I return with my reflections on my trip, updated publications etc.

Cosmic Dreams and Nightmares

I don't dream dreams.  I dream movies complete with action, music, food, smells everything.  In this one I had a vision of  a possible future. it was so vivid, almost as if I were watching the hearing take place.

Three stories

Dream Girl (true story)
General Zod (flash fiction
Sam Adams Vs. the Social Cleansing Board
Six Poems
Morphing Images from Hellish Nightmare
Endless Movie
Worlds within Worlds Lost in Hell
Rafting to Hell
Satanic Torture
Micro Stories

Don’t Go Jogging in the Middle of the Night
Don’t touch this button!
Don’t open the door
Don’t go to the theater tonight stay home with me
Don’t go to Dallas I have a bad feeling about the trip

Dream Girl
Cheating Death 100 Times
Guardian Angel
Medical Mystery
SLA Hit List

Dream Girl – A true Story – reprinted from Dreams and the Unexplainable
You know you’re in love when you can’t fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams.

Author Unknown

The dreams started when I was a senior at Berkeley High School in 1974. About a month before I graduated, I fell asleep in a physics class after lunch and had the first dream:

A beautiful Asian woman was standing next to me, talking in a strange language. She was stunning—the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. She was in her early twenties, with long black hair, and piercing black eyes. She had the look of royalty. She looked at me and then disappeared, beamed out of my dream like in Star Trek. I fell out of my chair screaming, “Who are you?” She did not answer.

About a month went by, and then I started having the dream repeatedly. Always the same pattern.

Early morning, she would stand next to me talking. I would ask who she was, and she would disappear. She was the most beautiful, alluring woman I had ever seen.

I was struck speechless every time I had the dream.

I had the dream every month during the eight years during which I went to college and served in the Peace Corps. In fact, when I joined the Peace Corps, I had to decide whether to go Korea or Thailand. The night before I had to submit my decision, I had the dream again and it made me sure that she was in Korea waiting for me.

After the Peace Corps, I still hadn’t met my dream woman. I got a job working for the U.S. Army as an instructor and stayed in Korea. I kept having the dream, until I had the very last one:
She was standing next to me, speaking to me in Korean, but I finally understood her. She said, “Don’t worry, we will be together soon.”

Why was that the last time I had the dream? Because the very next night, the girl in my dream got off the bus in front of me. She went on to the base with an acquaintance of mine, a fellow teacher, and they went to see a movie. I saw her and found the courage to speak with her.

We exchanged phone numbers and agreed to meet that weekend.

The next night, she was waiting for me as I entered the Army base to teach a class. She told me she was a college senior and she had something to tell me. I signed her on to the base and left her at the library to study while I taught, and then we went out for coffee after class. She told me she was madly in love with me, and that I was the man for her. I told her not to worry as I felt the same.

That weekend, we met Saturday and Sunday and hung out all day. On Sunday night, I proposed to her. It was only three days after we had met, but for me it felt like we had met eight years ago. I had been waiting all my life for her to walk out of my dreams and into my life, and here she was.

Her mother did not want her to marry a foreigner. One day, about a month after we met, she invited me to meet her parents. I brought a bottle of Jack Daniels for her father and drank the entire bottle with him. He approved of me, but her mother still had reservations. After a Buddhist priest told her my future wife and I were a perfect astrological combination, she agreed, and we planned our wedding.

The wedding was a media sensation in South Korea. My wife explained it to me years later. At the time, I was overwhelmed just by the fact that we were getting married and I didn’t fully understand how unusual this was. My wife was of the old royal clan, distant relatives to the former kings of Korea. In the clan’s history, only two people had ever married foreigners: my wife, and Rhee Syngman, who was the first President of South Korea. My father, who was a former Undersecretary of Labor, came out for the wedding, which fueled even more media interest. Our marriage defied the stereotypical Korean-foreign marriage where the women married some hapless GI just to escape poverty and immigrate to the U.S. We were the first foreign/Korean couple to get married at a Korean Army base. Over 1,000 people came to the wedding, and my father was interviewed on the morning news programs.

This all happened thirty-seven years ago, (45 years since the first dream) and I am still married to the girl in my dreams. Now in my dreams she watches over me when we are apart.

General Zod Conquers the World
SETI and the search for extraterrestrial life goes on overdrive when scientists report what appears to be radio and television broadcasts from a planet eight light years from earth, the same planet as the Vulcans came from in the Star Trek universe.  The programs show a world where dinosaur-like creatures are running the world and there appears to be a civil war.  Over the next six months, the world is transfixed watching the alien broadcasts which are translated in English via a supercomputer program.  In the broadcast, a nuclear war has occurred. The surviving party regains absolute control and announces the formation of the Galactic Empire.  General Zod is the First Emperor.  They have discovered Earth as well. The aliens launch a crash project to develop interstellar travel so they can come to earth and conquer the earth.

The revelations that there is an external threat to the planet causes the United Nations to get together with the help of the United States and Russia another space powers, they put together Space defense International organization and also invigorates efforts to make the UN a real Planetary government including finally conquering climate change.

But it was too late. General Zod’s son arrives to take over the earth. He makes a broadcast saying that they were liberating Earth in the name of the Galactic Empire and that resistance would be futile.

They land at the White House and when President Trump comes out to greet them,

General Zod cuts off his head, and then cuts off the heads of all the staffers as they come out White House. After an hour of unimaginable horrors, including mass rapes, blowing up the Pentagon and the CIA,  General Zod announces that he had taken over the world.

Life will continue as before as long as people behave and follow the rules they would be fine Resistance to the new empire will be met with instant death.  Life in the Empire is not a democracy. They would not tolerate Freedom of speech, and Freedom of Press, and Freedom of Assembly And the freedom to oppose the State. The state is everything.  As long as humans remember that they would be just fine. They took over the United States because it was the biggest country in the world. And that his forces will take over the rest of the world but in the next couple weeks. If people on earth accept the new order, their safety would be guaranteed. Companies would be taken over by Galactic Empire companies, and everybody would have to learn Galactic standard. Within one year older languages will be banned.

Sam Adams Vs. the Social Cleansing Board

the summons
Sam Adams was worried. He could not sleep. He got up at 4 am and wrote in his journal and tried to cope with the dread that was overwhelming him. He had received the summons yesterday that he was to report to the social cleansing board for a review on whether he would allow to continue to be on the automatic permit list or would be referred for final status determination. Sam was a retired Federal worker trying to live on dwindling savings.

Sam had Alzheimer’s and was rapidly depleting his life’s savings. Two years before he had been released from prison, one of millions of ex political prisoners. His crime? Authoring anti-government poems just before the beginning of the Christian States of America, right after the second civil war. Unfortunately for him and his millions of ex-prisoners, his side lost the war. He wanted to flee to the United Provinces and settle down in California but lacked money to move. And getting a job at his age, with Alzheimer’s and his political rating was proving difficult at best.

All of which added up to a 90 percent probability his last days were approaching.

Under the new rules imposed by the Christian republican party in the newly established Christian states, all citizens over the age of 18 were on the permitted list if they met all of the following criteria. He tried to think why he was being referred to the board. Perhaps it was because of the recent crackdown on social deviancy. Millions of homosexuals, transgenered people, atheists, drug users, alcoholics, and non-religious people had been rounded up and eliminated according to the rumors. Perhaps someone had fingered him as a possible deviant. He fit the stereotype, no children, known drug user, known alcohol user, suspect politically, atheist and now Alzheimer’s patient. And he was not racially pure having some black blood, some Asian blood and some Jewish blood. And he had married across the racial divide which was now illegal.

The story was that if you flipped and named names you would sometimes be spared for now, and if your info was correct, you could be rewarded. Of course, those whom you flipped were not too fortunate. That was probably the story or someone could have heard that he was an ex political prisoner, or simply that he had Alzheimer’s’.

He had no children. And he was a secret atheist and had been involved with the dissent movement and had spent five years as a political prisoner at the start of the Christian Revolution. He was determined to make a stand and denounce the whole rotten system before the board although that would probably seal his fate.

As an Alzheimer’s patient he could no longer work. His wife had died the year before while he was in prison after she had been deported to her native Korea. She left him some assets but he had little idea how to manage his finances and he was behind in his rent and had received an eviction notice which had probably triggered the visit by the social cleansing staff who recommend a final status determination. But it was just as likely he was on the list because someone flipped on him.

He also did not make it last time when they came for him at midnight. Always at midnight the story goes.

The soldiers came took him away from his wife and locked him up for two years. They deported his wife whom he heard had died shortly afterwards. He spend two years at hard labor in the dessert near Las Vegas and was released into Las Vegas.

Las Vegas was a different town now that the casinos had left town. All that was left were back office operations, and underground ***** and *** operations and underground casinos. It was a hot bed of political dissent and there was an underground railroad to California, which was not part of the Christian states. Sam had been preparing to leave which was a crime and perhaps that is why he was on the list.

The hearing would be at 10 am. He was meeting his lawyer at the hearing board but his lawyer was not too optimistic.
the Permit Criteria
The basic criteria for being on the permit list were:

For Males

Age 18 to age 70
White race
Married to a white woman with children
Must be either working, in school full time, serving in military duty, or working in prison if convicted of a crime.

Homelessness was not allowed. If unemployed and or homeless, would be referred to social cleansing department unless one had a relative who was willing to take care of your needs.

Since there were no pensions or social security anymore and no government provided health care, one must have sufficient assets through one’s work, or savings or through one’s relatives to provide for one ‘s needs. If not you would be sent to the social cleansing board for final status determination.

For Females

Same basic rules applied but if one were married, and had children one would be on the permitted list, if children are older, if spouse’s income is sufficient one would be on the list.
If single or divorced, and homeless one would also be subject to social cleansing unless one’s relatives would willing to sponsor you. Since there were no pensions or social security anymore and no government provided health care, one must have sufficient assets through one’s work, or savings or through one’s relatives to provide for one ‘s needs. If not you would be sent to the social cleansing board for final status determination.

For Aged People

Additional requirements for the age you were expected to take care of your basic needs through employment and savings and the help of relatives. If you were evicted for non-payment of rent, or judged to not have sufficient assets left to sustain your basic needs including medical care, you would be referred for final status determination.

For all people additional requirements applied.

****** deviancy, drug use, alcohol use, gambling, *** outside of marriage, homosexuality would result in immediate referral to the social cleansing board as all were banned conduct that could result in final termination.   Being a member of a prohibited religious class could also be grounds for referral as would a pattern of not attending Christian services. Finally, if one had been arrested for political crimes one would be marked forever.
<h2>Sam's Rating</h2>
One had a government social rating. Sam knew that his rating was a D meaning that the government would be watching him all the time, and it would be difficult to get a job. Only the A’s and B’s were guaranteed to be on the permit list.

To be a A you had be to a true believer, had to be white, had to attend church on a regular basis, and had to be employed naturally.

To be a B same thing but you could be a B if you were a minority, or had engaged in alcohol or drug use under the old rules.

C meant that there was something wrong with your background, you were an atheist, you were a minority etc.

D mean that you were a serious threat to the regime.

E meant that you would be terminated.

F met you were terminated as it met Failure to survive, and family members of F were also labeled F as they were usually terminated at the same time.

Being associated with banned political movements, including reading banned materials could also lead one to being referred to the social cleansing board as all were grounds for either termination or criminal prosecution if under the age of 70.

The board has three choices - granted temporary status extension, referral for termination, or referral to criminal prosecution.

The termination would be carried out quickly. There would be an optional funeral at your Church, then the execution through the method of your choice - firing squad, beheading, electric chair, or gas. The default was gas where you were put in a room with up to ten other people and put to sleep.

Afterwards your body would be cremated in an electricity generating plant with the ashes turned into fertilizer products. There were no burials allowed unless one was rich enough and connected enough to request a burial exception. Most people did not qualify.
the Hearing
The hearing started. The presiding Judge, Judge Miller was a stern face white man in his 70’s and a true believer. He was sent to Las Vegas to clean it up as Las Vegas was the wild west, a hot bed of dissent, illegal drug use, illegal prostitution and illegal casinos. It was also near several political prisons so many ex cons lived there.

The Judge was the chairman of the Nevada state committee that did not exist and was a senior official in the Federal committee that did not exist that brought together government, business and church leaders to coordinate government policies and that secretly ran the Christian States of America.

Probably a score of A thought Sam.

The judge announced that he had reviewed Sam’s file and was shocked that Sam had escaped final termination. He said that the previous board had erred in simply sending him to prison. He should have been eradicated as a social evil, as a cancer that needs to be removed from the pure body politics. Sam and his ilk sickened him. Sam was a free thinker, an atheist, a mix race mongrel, married to a non-white and was therefore guilty of crimes against the white race which was a crime. The Judge was determined to see justice done.

He asked Sam a series of questions. Sam’s answers sealed his fate.

Sam, what is your occupation?

None for now.

You realize that under the law you must be working, in service, in school or in prison?

I can’t find a job due to my age, my Alzheimer’s; and my political record.

That’s irrelevant. You are just a lousy atheist *******. You deserve no sympathy. And have none from me.

Are you white?

No, I am mixed race, part native, part Asian, part black.

I see you were married to a non-white and had no children. Good for you we would not want to see more mongrel children. Such children should be eliminated at birth in my opinion and will be starting next month when we begin enforcing the racial purity laws.

What was your crime? Let’s see reading prohibited writings, keeping a journal, publishing an anti-government blog, authoring anti-government poems and stories. You served two years at hard labor?


Do you still write?

Yes, everyday but I no longer publish on line.

Good. No one would want to read that trash anyway.

Do you go to church?


Do you believe in God?

No, I do not believe in an imaginary man in the sky.

One more anti-religious statement from you will result in an immediate ruling of termination.

Do you drink?

If I can find it yes

Do you gamble

Yes, when I can

Do you support the Christian Republican Party and the Christian States of America?

No, I do not.

Okay, I have enough for a ruling. Sam Adams, you are hereby sentence to termination. Tomorrow morning at 7 am you will be turned into electricity and fertilizer. Take him away.

Next please.

At midnight there was a knock at the door. A black man appeared and said he was a friend and he was being smuggled to California. Sam rejoiced and went with his new friend and reached SF in the morning, escaping death for the 23rd time in his life.

the End

Poetic Nightmares

Morphing Images from a Hellish Nightmare
Note: From a real nightmare End Note

I am in a room
Drinking at a party
And smoking ****

Watching people all around me

Change into hideous creatures
Monsters from the deepest depths of hell

Everyone in the room
Has been transformed except me

The Chief of them all
Wears a Trumpian mask

Complete with orange hair

Half human half pig

His deputy
Wears the face of Putin
But his body
Half human, half horse: if

The other creatures wear masks
Many of them wear
Green Pepe the alt-right
Symbolic frog masks

And have T-shirts
Bearing alt right slogans
And **** symbols

And as they prance about
They chant alt. Right slogans
And neo-**** chants

Jews will not Replace us

And the rest of these creatures
Are hideous ugly beasts
With only a vestige of humanity left

And these monsters are engaged
In all sorts of foul evil deeds
****** violence death

All around
And non-stop
violent drug-fueled ******

As these creatures
Half human half monsters
Half male, half female creatures

Snort coke, *******, speed
Smoke **** and drink ***** shots
Scotch, bourbon and beer

The Trumpian Pig leads the charge
Starts engaging in ****** with Putin
Who chases after people

Cutting off their heads with his sword
They turn on to their fellow creatures
****** and killing each other
and eating their fellow creatures

All night long

Then they attack me

Jews will not replace us
And I wake up

As the sun comes up
Just another nightmare

The Endless Movie

Watching the TV coverage
Of the great government shut down
Of 2018-2019

I am reminded of a movie
As I fall asleep
Listening to the TV

Blather on and on
About what it all means

Mr. Natural pops up
And screams

"It don’t mean s….

“Dude, the endless movie
Is about to begin”!

A middle-aged white man
Down on his proverbial luck
Just been fired

Replaced by a foreign worker
Or a robot

Or just fired
Because he was no longer
Deemed useful
To the masters of the universe

If he was lucky
He'd  be given a watch
And an IOU worthless pension

And the man wanders into a restaurant
Pulls out a gun

Eats his breakfast
After the official breakfast hour

Puts on a Pepe the green frog mask
Drops acid, Snorts speed
Drinks a shot of *****
And coffee smokes a joint

Snorts ******* for good measure
and smokes a cigarette

And walks outside
steals a bus at gun point
Filled with passengers

He tells them
They are hostages

And he puts on his vest
With the dead man switch
Next to the bomb

He announces
Via tweet

He is going to take the bus
To the proverbial *** of gold

Hidden deep in a cave
And when he got there

He would release the hostages
And disappear into the mine
And never be found again

And as the bus careens around the mountain
At 100 miles an hour
The dude sprouts out

Conspiracy after conspiracy theory
About Obama the Muslim communist

secret gay working with George Soros
the Jewish money people
in league with the shapeshifting lizards

and Mueller is one of them
they are all after him
because he knows the deal

And the passengers are transfixed
Half hoping, he would make it
Half hoping, he would be blown away

And as the bus careens out of control
With the wheels falling off

And the cliff looming ahead
You realize we are all doomed

Worlds Within Worlds Lost in Inner Space
A man woke up one day
Lost in inner space
Went so far down
The proverbial rabbit hole

That he did not know
Where he was
Nor what time it was
Nor when it was

As he stared out
At a bewildering world
A world lost in inner space
Deep down in his dreams

Filled with nightmarishly real
Monsters, demons and ghostly apparitions
He saw them and began running
Running running running

With the hell hounds behind him
Leading him to the edge
of the pits of hell itself

abandon all hope
ye who enter here
the sign read
above the entrance to the pit

and there was a devil standing there
armed with a clipboard
and a computer spreadsheet
Satan was the ultimate bureaucrat

Name barked the devil
Date of Birth ?
Date of Death?
Don’t know? That won’t do at all

Car accident due to drunk driving
And you killed a child
Bad on you

But here in hell
The punishment fits the crime
And the devil laughed
Joined in by the hell hounds
And other nightmare creatures

A bell ran out
In the purple crystalline sky
And slowly the worlds receded
And he found himself alive

In his room
And vowed
That today
Was the day

He would quit drinking
Quit taking drugs
And quit chasing strange woman
And having wild libertine ***

He picked up the phone
It was Satan’s aid
Be careful what you vow
We are listening

If you fulfil your vows
You might find yourself
Escaping life in Hell
It is up to you to choose

And the man got dressed
Went to work
Thinking deep thoughts

And drove off a cliff
And back down the endless
Worlds within worlds

Satanic Torture

I find myself
In a dark room
Strapped to a bed

The light turns on
The large TV comes on

A smiling image
Of Satan fills the TV
He is dressed
In a conservative business suit

Looks like he came
Out of a corporate
board meeting

surrounded by demonic aides
who constantly shove papers
at him

He looks up from his lap top
And smiles
A deadly so insincere smile

His voice booms out

Welcome to Hell
My satanic slaves

I am Satan
Your new master

Each of you
Has been sentenced
To an eternity of torture

And the punishment
Must fit the crime

So, for you
Mr. Jake Cosmos Aller
Failed aspiring poet
And novelist

Your torture
Is to be strapped
To that bed

Unable to move
As you are filled
With the need
To **** and ****

But you cannot move
And your skin
Is crawling with bugs

And itchy
as Hell so to speak
and you are so sleepy

but you cannot sleep

the TV will play
endless repeats

Of some of the worst TV
and movie shows
ever produced

Starting with my favorite
A Series of Unfortunate Events

Featuring your favor annoying little girl
Carmetta! Singing for you forever
As you are the ultimate cake sniffer

Welcome to Hell

Rafting Towards Hell
I woke up
To find myself
Rafting down a river

I looked up
At the cliffs
Towering above
the roaring torrent

and see the dark demons
of my terrible nightmares
chasing the boat
firing flaming arrows

and I see werewolves
goblins, ghosts and monsters
running along the river bed
screaming obscenities

as they chase me
to my doom

and I see the waterfall ahead
and see my pending doom

as I rush over the edge
of reason

Micro Stories
53 word stories regarding unheeded warnings
Don’t Go Jogging in the Middle of the Night
It all started with a jog in the middle of the night. Despite my wife’s warning don’t go jogging in the middle of the night.  Broke me heal in a million pieces, 14 operations ensured, mutant MDR Staff almost killed me, almost lost the leg. . should have listened to her warning.

Don’t touch this button!
Don’t touch this button the former President said.  I said, what this button? And that led to the launching of nuclear weapons, going to defon three, and world war 3 with millions of people dead end of civilization moment. Should not have touched the red button.
Don’t open the door
When you find yourself running for your life chased by demons from hell and backed into a corner in a burning house filled with flames and are about to die in a million horrible ways you remembered that they warned you not to open door number three in this crazy reality TV show.
Don’t go to the theater tonight stay home with me
Mary Todd Lincoln had a vicious headache and was not in the mood to go out.  The President though ignored her wishes and told her that he had to go to the theater that night to show the world everything was okay now the war was ending.  Should have listened to her.
Don’t go to Dallas I have a bad feeling about the trip
Jackie was known for her moods and her premonitions. Something the President found both amusing an annoying. She told him that she a vision of death waiting for him in Dallas that day.  The President dismissed her foolishness as he put it and went to Dallas to meet his fate.
true love story.
In 1974 I had the first dream. While sleeping in a boring class, I saw a beautiful Asian woman standing at me speaking a foreign language. I fell out of chair yelling who are you?   I began having the same dream month after month for eight years.  One day I realized she was in Korea so I went there in the Peace Corps to meet her. In 1982 I had the last dream.  She said don’t worry we meet soon. That night she walked off a bus, out of the dream and into my life.  We’ve been married 37 years.
Cheating Death 22 Times
Also, a true story.
I have cheated death 22 times in my life.  I was born a preemie, almost died at birth, and had all the childhood illness at once.  In 1979 I came down with Typhoid  fever in Korea in the Peace Corps.  In 1991 almost got hit by a train. In 1996-1997 had 14 operations due to a mutant drug resistant staph infection, almost died several times.  In 1997 I had an acute stomach ailment that almost killed me, due to excessive antibiotic usage, if I had waited 30 minutes more would have been dead.  And had dengue in 2010.
Guardian Angel Saves My Life
Another true story
In 1990, I was teaching ESL in Korea.  My wife and I drove to the East Coast of Korea for a weekend away. She was in the US Army then.  As we drove towards Sorak mountain, I was filled with the need to get off the road right then. I had a premonition of doom, so did my wife. We got off to drive around another park returned a few minutes later and saw a 25 car pileup. We would have been dead if we had not listened to that inner voice telling us get off now.

Medical Mystery
Another true story
Back in 1996, when I was in the hospital fighting a mutant staph infection after a disastrous jogging accident that led to 14 operations, the internal medicine doctor said that there was something else going on. He finally discovered that I had a rare parasite, a tape worm of sorts that remained inert, its only becomes active if you take steroids then it blows up like a basketball killing you instantly. Six months later I had to take steroids due to frozen shoulder syndrome, and if I had not gotten rid of it, I would have died a medical mystery.

SLA Hit List
True story

Back in 1974 my father was a local politician in Berkeley, California who was on the SLA’***** list as “an enemy of the people, a fascist insect that needed to be killed”.  His crime?  As President of the community college district, he began requiring IDS for students and staff to combat campus crime at the local community colleges.  We had 24/7 police coverage for a while. One morning I saluted my father, “good morning fascist insect”.  My father, being of Germanic stock did not like the joke as jokes are alien to the German DNA.

the End
based on dreams and nightmares
Dark is the sky while I sleep so silently, safe and secure.
Lost in my dreams, I am lost in my dreams.

I am lost because I have found some sweet, serene, allure.
Lost in my dreams, with a girl, it seems.

In life when I'm awake, love is different, not like this,
Lost in my dreams, I am lost in my dreams.

But here, in this soundless sleep, I can not miss.
Lost in my dreams, with a girl, it seems.

In my dreams she loves me, and I love her,
Lost in my dreams, I am lost in my dreams,
Lost in my dreams, with a girl, it seems,
Only if it were real, if only it were.
Robert Andrews Jan 2017
There are always castles in the sky
for little girls that cry
and sailing ships, to secret islands
for little boys who, wonder why
not everything turns to magic beans
Silly little dreams
Silly little dreams
silly little
beautiful little
silly little beautiful dreams

and I wonder why
any of it ever
has to pass us by

Weave your dreams from pieces of string
pop tabs and the tear drops in your eyes
It's a necklace made of pure gold
and gems the castle treasury holds
for a forgotten Princess
when she's feeling blue

Dead hockey sticks..
and a burned out car
A weathered picnic table
Formidable fortresses for a war
Where the dead go home at the end of the day
'cause everyone always,   gets away
Silly little dreams
Silly little dreams
Silly little
beautiful little
Silly little beautiful dreams

And I wonder why
any of it ever, has to, pass us by


Sometimes life turns out that way
The sun still shines
just the same
on everyone ....
'til the day is done
Then rest your head
on what you call bed
and let your magic dreams.....
take you where they may
Beautiful beautiful
Beautiful beautiful
silly little beautiful dreams

And every little girl
is a beautiful Princess
Invincible boys
go off to war
and everything
is always wonderful..
when you can't stay awake any more
Beautiful beautiful
Beautiful beautiful
silly little beautiful dreams


— The End —