"dreamstate" poems
*Let me be captured by the night.
Engrossed in the conversation
between the stars.
Syncopated twinkling like...
thousands of fireflies
trapped within sealed jars.
Let me be enslaved by the moon.
As I drink her glow in
greedy insatiable gulps.
Crestfallen...
Her beam with an agenda...
As the landscape she sculpts.
Let me be ensnared by my solitude.
But I hear crickets...
Chirping and chipping away at my
bastion of dreamstate.
Persistent calls
I try to shun
that never abates.
Let me be trapped in my thoughts.
So I could harness...
And immortalise them in
indelible careless scribbles.
Erecting and...
Rebuilding them from the
rubble of conflicting squabbles.
**Let me be overwhelmed
by the mess of my being...**
Let me wallow
Then emerge strong from this
decrepit state of mind.
Let me breathe heavy from my
punctured lungs.
So I could heal in time before
true solace
in this dark,
I would find.*
May 4, 2015
May 4, 2015 at 12:05 PM UTC
shes sat by the window
like a flower to the sun
burnt deep
paled lotus, mechanized motifs
cigarette, sweet parallel steams
lips pink, eyes deceased
silica tears, seeded
fiber optic designed !release
enter
automated dreamstate
delve
inside the beast
oscillating
pirouetting
psilocybe
serene
days gone underground
plagiarized by peace
prototyped the touch
she’ll never know
it’s me.
Aug 11, 2021
Aug 11, 2021 at 7:07 PM UTC
The clouds reach their hands down
and cover the mountain peaks.
They call the Moon to reflect the Sun's light;
the fog glows a golden orange across the slopes.
In a dreamstate,
we are driving through Castle Rock,
the star brightly shining atop the granite anomaly.
He lights his pipe,
his hands swipe the match against the book like a maestro conducting a symphony,
and exhales the aroma of Philosopher's Blend into the thin Colorado air.
Many miles now separate
us, from the Rockies of Colorado
to the badlands of new Mexico;
but his smoke rings still
linger in the air, among the clouds,
that shroud the mountaintops.
Mar 8, 2014
Mar 8, 2014 at 1:07 PM UTC
In the half-life half-death
of cold capsule prison cells
The shaken but unstirred synapses
of my sedated frantic grey matter
are left cruelly seduced into dreamstate contemplation
Forced induction into comatose hypersleep
all systems shocked and slowed
Reduced to internal monologue
debating tranquility and frustration
captured amidst nurturing seas and predator skies
Life support machinations online
so that I must deal with life offline
My interlude thoughts in full control
as they run amok
through the living dead dreams
forever frozen and framed
in iced over glass
floating through the black nothing
of all encompassing space
alone
Feb 5, 2014
Feb 5, 2014 at 10:52 AM UTC
You told me my colors clashed
But I think them more to dash
and lash out
at passersby to sing and scream,
to shout
to sigh and shrug,
to let it all out
To breathe real deep and hold it there
my chest the spectrum swells to a tear
dulls, pallids, dry and opaque
to sing and scream, to shout,
to shake.
Violently to wake.
Violently vaporize voluptuously
from lustful lucidity lusciously
to chromatically color kaleidoscopically
and wake.
Silently shake and to...
Brilliantly Break.
Such a brilliant break, the day's.
To shatter smoothly in calm collision
through the dripping dew, the haze
Oh the grip of you, the taste
Such a fantastic fission
Illuminate
Such a drastic decision
in a dreamstate.
Such a calm collision.
You told me my colors clashed.
*Your eyes, my sinking shrine
A wishing well in Town Square
filled with hope and change over time
Long and Loving I would sweetly stare
copper glowin' fine
Your eyes, at the present, you forgot to mention
what new love with my coins did you buy?
Your eyes, at the present, you forgot to mention
was my wishing well shrine emptied in the night?
Your eyes, at the present, you forgot to mention
why void of shine, lined with lies?*
You told me my colors clashed
Your eyes, though sublime,
Maybe Mis-matched.
Sep 16, 2011
Sep 16, 2011 at 1:30 AM UTC
Busriding to
the city limits,
I think of
Levertov’s Half-Way House,
lying just beyond
the city limits.
The bus ride is
uneventful—
I rest my head against
the window and count
the cross-hatched streets.
Lulled by the rhythmic
bump and shake
of the bus, I fall asleep.
In my dreamstate
self-consciousness overwhelms
me, and I am forced
to look in on my bus
from the street alongside,
and notice that I am alone
and will soon get off to walk.
Feb 5, 2010
Feb 5, 2010 at 8:43 PM UTC
That
sound...
of sweet joy in
his laughter
that he shared with me
last evening
His...
last spirited
laugh right before we said,
good night,
was...
like a lullaby
sung to my heart
I
was in...
a dreamstate
even before I closed my eyes
and
he was thoroughly
in my dream
I
don't know
if...
it was intentional
but...
he recaptured
the attention of my interest
Maybe...
it's the innocence of
our interaction
that turned me on so much
Some kind of...
magnetic pull he has on me
it's
i n t e n s e
and...
I can't keep
myself from wondering
if...
it's the same for him
Or...
is all this
f i r e
and
d e s i r e
inside of me
one-sided?
Whatever
the outcome
I want him to know
I'm
always...
gonna treasure
what only he's been able
to do to me
©cj
May 24, 2017
May 24, 2017 at 1:40 AM UTC
I arose from my slumber without sleeping a wink
A twinkle of that dreamstate left over from days of yore
A bore. I must reinsert myself
into the meatgrinder
After lollygagging in that idyllic state
of freedom that doesn't exist
as long as I need money to live, to thrive, to survive
The mountain we slog always
catching the scent of the next tender morsel
of that dream we hardly remember
from the night before
the night before
the last time we awoke
in that place, our best friend held our hand
and took us to that desired land
filled with everything we never had as children
eyes brimming with stars
beyond horizons promised to us in storybooks
detailed tales of heroes who set sails
chasing whales
our own tails
our own tales never matching the patterned struggles
that we could easily overcome
sung and spun
before we were born
by people with common ancestral lines
times required spines now made with increased output
but inferior quality
broken easily in instances easily overcome
or never imagined in the flowing garment of time
ever lengthening to capture these expanding moments
manufactured and sold in greater quantities than before
more bottles to hold the sweat of downtrodden children
and then sold in extreme dilution to people
people who wouldn't seem like people to our grandparents
people who've never earned a single callus
peasants who've never earned a single social faux-pas
and been ostracized from squares masquerading as circles
on halloween only
or maybe other stolen holidays
we are the skeleton holding your obese mass
we are always malnourished, but expected to sustain
we are the marrow creating white blood cells to fight
the new diseases that we gladly pay for
so we can be sick
or just appear so
in our dreams
or was that something I saw on tv?
hard to say sometimes
Jul 7, 2014
Jul 7, 2014 at 7:01 AM UTC
Life is but a dream
You know thats what they say
Not every dreams a good one
Especially not today
But i have a good feeling about tomorrow
And that makes it all ok
May 30, 2015
May 30, 2015 at 6:11 AM UTC
these cemented feet sinking in
all floor is wet clay
soaking rags, icing
lone moan heard by no)one
no air ,
same restraints of one's steps
oscillating vertically
sinking in matter, mind rambles deadly
variations of be gone
in silence, prolong dreamstate
idyllic faith for the worthless
no death is in vain.
The marble marvelous moon lover
wisely shuts our ears
closes the eyes, feels what's only bright,
leaving a dying sloth sink alone
without home
with no caring caress to comfort
no reasons no thoughts
and dead flowers as soul
Feb 9, 2017
Feb 9, 2017 at 9:50 AM UTC
you left
at sunrise
while I had
my head turned
and disappeared up
the mountains, I went
looking for you in Nepal
even down dark hallways
where I wouldn't normally
spend my dreamstate, I'm
spending my alone time
looking for you, but
you're always leaving
already gone, sharing
yourself in New Mexico.
Jul 20, 2014
Jul 20, 2014 at 12:13 PM UTC
You open your eyes unsatisfied,
Yearning for something more, longer.
But that moment already died,
And continues to die further and further.
In there, we are just perfect.
Happiness can’t be put into words.
It was everything I dream of.
I have the best of all worlds.
Your laugh, your words I can’t forget,
The way you held and looked at me,
I wish all those, once more, I can get.
More than existing I want to know how to be.
With you I want to explore all realms,
Everything I can’t fathom.
I guess, we all have those dreams,
We don’t want to wake up from.
Apr 4, 2015
Apr 4, 2015 at 12:44 AM UTC
#Stephan W
*Muse-induced, I slip
into a dreamstate--
I am floating.
Third-heaven bound, I am
caught up into a
galaxy-pull, cloud hidden
I am bent around objects--
the very empirical nature of
light itself,
drawn into an orbit that,
always mine-- had
been waiting for me all along
I am home now--
Away from this pain
Away from death's stain
..away from all of my inabilities*
#
Nov 28, 2020
Nov 28, 2020 at 11:30 PM UTC
curiously examines the corner
as she searches for shadows
cast against the black abyss
of her sleeping mind
when the lights come on
she hides in the cracks
waiting, waiting to awaken
from the dreamstate that
some call life
Feb 1, 2021
Feb 1, 2021 at 12:13 PM UTC
i.
we could fit together like russian dolls. a perfect fit of two well painted figures. do you taste like autumn, bedtime and and perfection? do i smell like new books, lemon cakes or home? i could be the one who makes regret nothing and want everything.
come watch this with me:
these shattered constellations
in a navy sky.
ii.
the depths of endless oceans are not enough to drown my feelings. i feel like this could be what’s the end of me. i *** into infinity, the unknown, hope. my scarred and so imperfect skin could fold into your perfection. cool skin upon cool skin. a dreamstate of awakened eyes
i can hardly see.
this life is lived too blindly,
someone heal my sight.
iii.
daisy flowers uprooted from the soil, lights dimmed low, a pretty and sadly slow song is playing in the background. it all feels so deeply personal. i hope my soul is transparent so that you can see into my intoxicatingly good intentions. i’ll always want to share your breath.
you’re inside of my veins
pumping through my blood like drugs
making me feel high
Dec 13, 2016
Dec 13, 2016 at 9:55 PM UTC
the cold melts the face
upward moving sands drip
the hammer strikes a chord
time awakens
gushing bouches de lavage
a hanging pendant light illuminates in anticipation
the trestled bust turns
light cast, cradles the shadows
an emerging voice speaks
the damp muslin curtain falls
fingers mould by the voice
clay splashes bare feet
piercing eyes meet their masters
the nose is the same
affectionate motions scrawl aged lines
the voice is his own
the curtain comes down
blanketed whitened feet now a horizon
a dawn chorus arrives
the dream starts to avalanche
buried in sleep
time stops
strong coffee to see the world
toasted stale baguette to absorb the bitters
a Gauloises to feed the soul
water to quench the thirst
lengthening shadows are a curse
an African mask looks on
one easel offers up an oil
a palette languishes in adoration
brushes sprout from a beer glass
overflowing ashtrays furbish the easel
the spatula jumps from one pile of pigmented oil to another
a new eruption pours out of the glassy mantel
pryoclastic flows seal the canvas
seams of creation ***** forth
the point moves in space
one aspect becomes two
lightness creates
darkness celebrates
three aspects evolve
an intensity pulls the hand deeper
the day is transformed
a creature of the night bites
the table transforms
skies below solidify
flowers swim for safety
sombreroed fish jaywalk
a weary smoke film stagnates in layers
the soul is transfixed
the painting is bewitched
the artist is enslaved
amusement for some
misery for the few
enlightenment for less
in fine it... a dream is laid bare
Aug 24, 2020
Aug 24, 2020 at 5:57 AM UTC
ImagiNation, FantaSea,
All well known by all to be,
places of adventure and fun and whim,
but another lay at the outer rim.
The greatest Nation,
the deepest Sea,
worth nothing against what awaited me.
DreamState it's called,
(So the voices say)
An untamed place,
of monstrous display.
No proof more is needed,
than to flounder in there,
that logic is a system,
not law nor fair.
A system we made,
one that makes sense to our senses,
It works well enough,
When we tend to our fences.
But in there i'm lost,
all my preparations mean naught.
My intentions a joke,
like an insult i'm tossed.
Decades of failure,
every way not mine,
i waste my time,
trying to find
a fix on the inside,
so i'd 'Do Better' without.
But those within,
have greater clout.
i conceit i'm their god,
and in Dreams They revenge;
what could i expect,
when my (e)motions depend
on drugs uncontrolled
by state or by temperance.
to myself I make shackled,
but i shun that remembrance.
Dec 15, 2021
Dec 15, 2021 at 9:40 PM UTC