"nightdream" poems
& Think about me.
Wonder about me & daydream about me.
Nightdream about me & ponder about me.
Never forget me,
I'm an important person to remember;
I feel.
And whenever it is you do remember me,
it should be like a train of thoughts, connecting the dots.
Don't deny what you feel, and what your conscience talks.
I should be at the front lines of whatever it is you're fighting.
Don't it look different when you take the depth from the lighting ?
No,
It's not too much to do.
Remember me..
'Cause I've remembered you a lot.
I've thought about you so much.
The memory of me is almost real.
There's a faint line between me actually being there,
and me being there.
Who knows..
Maybe if you're on my mind a bit,
we can actually live.
Say hi and see into each other.
Feel upon each other.
And be about each other.
.. I plan to live.
But first,
you have to remember me..
Think about me & wonder about me.
Daydream & nightdream about me.
Ponder about me & never forget me.
Remember me.
Jan 8, 2012
Jan 8, 2012 at 4:31 PM UTC
Am I blind,
Or do you see too well?
Am I deaf,
Or do you listen too closely?
Am I mute,
Or do you talk too much?
I hear voices in my head,
But you don't listen to yours.
I see things that you say aren't there,
But you miss things that I say are there.
You tell me not to daydream,
But do you even nightdream?
You stare
Into my face
with contempt
But I stare
Into your mind
with pity
And curiosity
About how all that knowledge
You claim to possess
Fits into that tiny, narrow chamber,
And how it even got in
Through that thick, heavy, closed, chained,
Padlocked, bolted, and barred iron door?
You stare
As if I have nothing to offer society,
But what can you offer?
You have exactly what everybody else has:
Indifference,
Smugness,
An attitude,
And a suitcase.
Society has had her fill of all that,
And if you were gone,
She wouldn't miss you.
So is my point of view unrealistic,
Or just too real for you?
Do I need to be locked up,
Or do you need to be set free?
I'm not an oddity,
You're Boring.
And I'm not crazy,
You're just too sane.
Nov 26, 2011
Nov 26, 2011 at 3:34 AM UTC
Everything seems so impossible,
I always feel so invisible,
I kept on staring at the empty atmosphere,
Endlessly wishing for you to be here.
Why do I keep on thinking about scenarios
that will never happen in real life?
Why do I keep on imagining things
if they would only cause an emotional strife?
Should I continue calling this a daydream
or should I start calling this "nightdream"?
This is indeed a mixture of a daydream and nightdream
and an emotion that got lost in the midair.
Mar 27, 2014
Mar 27, 2014 at 6:05 AM UTC
*This dinner party is formal
like all the ladies
I am wearing my gown
my invite was for me
and plus one.
but its just me here.
all the gentlemen
are in tuxedos.
the man seated to my right
is deliciously, attractive.
I nightdream of him
unfastening my gown
and drowning me
in his wickedness.
The heady fragrance
of his cologne, adds
to the dream.
I wonder over the hum
of voices in the room.
is he the one I have
searched for for so long
the one I know is out there
in the big somewhere.
Our glasses clink in toast.
he bites sensuously into a
fresh summer strawberry.
its heavenly juices
leaving thier sweetest fragrane
onto his tongue.
He smiles at me
his eyes glancing
at my cleavage.
I feel like a spider
tempting him into my web.
The bait has been swallowed.
I smile back at him.
I wonder if he will taste
of strawberries later
when I loosen my hair
from its tight french roll.*
Sep 1, 2015
Sep 1, 2015 at 8:35 AM UTC
*This dinner party is formal
like all the ladies
I am wearing my gown
my invite was for me
and plus one.
but its just me here.
all the gentlemen
are in tuxedos.
the man seated to my right
is deliciously, attractive.
I nightdream of him
unfastening my gown
and drowning me
in his wickedness.
The heady fragrance
of his cologne, adds
to the dream.
I wonder over the hum
of voices in the room.
is he the one I have
searched for for so long
the one I know is out there
in the big somewhere.
Our glasses clink in toast.
he bites sensuously into a
fresh summer strawberry.
its heavenly juices
leaving thier sweetest fragrane
onto his tongue.
He smiles at me
his eyes glancing
at my cleavage.
I feel like a spider
tempting him into my web.
The bait has been swallowed.
I smile back at him.
I wonder if he will taste
of strawberries later
when I loosen my hair
from its tight french roll. *
Aug 27, 2015
Aug 27, 2015 at 1:12 PM UTC
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Oct 17, 2018
Oct 17, 2018 at 11:34 PM UTC