"wisped" poems
~a question of a thousand dreams~^
“Where are you going now my love? Where will you be tomorrow? Will you bring me happiness? Will you bring me sorrow? All the questions of a thousand dreams, what you do and what you see”
this one composes itself
for all dreams go unremembered
the first, the thousandth, the every in between,
erased by the push button of opening eyes
but dreams come, marching in, saints mining the raw materiel
the quartermaster has stored, awaiting requisition by an
unarmed unnamed corp, witnessed but never seen
these dreams wisped soft willow budded, tempting taunting,
leaving nothing but unanswered questions that colored come
in black and white
elementary clues,
a pillow indentation,
single hair that stretches
across the sea between two pillows that is blonde or red
but
certainly unmine,
dregs of soured sentiment linger like the
aftertaste of too many coffees and stainless steel beers
heated summers breezes give no succor or relief,
and the rain following gives no pleasure,
for now you are hot and soaked,
but somewhere in there a dream is part replayed,
and eyes widening in major league surprise,
the question acknowledged, the dreams quest hinted
she has gone, neither happiness or sorrow will she
provide on the morrow, no toweling of your wet hair fair,
and you awake sweat besotted, it is not rain, just pain,
and it is only one dream a thousand times repeated
and what you do and what you see
is the abraded night ahead, and
you bitter laugh, for there is no more other than to think,
the question answered, and you beg relief by
uttering
“perchance to dream”
3:49 pm
see the notes!!
someone accuses me of Plagiarism
because I did not acknowledge that the quote in marks and Italics was from a famous song written 39 years ago
so here is my response to
“just saying”
congratulations on ******* me off
and yes I agree, you do not know the rules
“#1: Quotation Marks Are for Quoting People—Verbatim
Perhaps it should go without saying, but quotation marks are for quoting people. Quoting doesn’t mean summarizing or paraphrasing; it means repeating exactly what someone said. If you put double quotes around a phrase, your reader will often assume that someone, somewhere, said that exact phrase or sentence.“
http://thevisualcommunicationguy.com/2013/09/11/10-things-you-really-need-to-know-about-quotation-marks/
Aug 3, 2018
Aug 3, 2018 at 3:59 PM UTC
People tell me with hushed lips and pained irises,
(pain really only flickers and quietly sinks deep within the absolute oblivions of you.)
that it will get better.
"You grieve, I have done it. Every person has."
Not for this one.
Not for him or her that is.
She had the sort of wittiness that would cut right though that
buttery feeling of warmth
wisped from
one hell of
a
smile.
Guess whose?
He had one of the loveliest voices, one that lulls your tired eyelids to much needed sleep.
A voice that will inexplicably grasp your fingertips when you feel utterly lost and breathless with pain.
And, I could go
*on,
on
&
on.*
Just that my very voice will be cracked
by
the
sweet, bitter
goodbye
whispered by
the yellowing memories
of
them.
Apr 12, 2014
Apr 12, 2014 at 8:50 AM UTC
Cast about on a stormy sea,
The deck was barren,
Our mood deceased.
Many a day, high tides wisped by-
Arresting my feeble mind from time.
Until one day, an epiphany.
"Blue dream," I called out,
"Take me away to that special place
Where up is down
And I float into space;
Drown my sorrows in a haste."
She manifested in my quarters
Later that night,
And with a soft whimper
Summoned my delight.
"Here you are, forsaken one,"
She hauntedly sung to me,
"My love will give you power,
The smoke will set you free."
Many a moment has passed
Since my encounter with blue dream,
But still my dreams call out
Hoping it's her I shall see
When I cross the threshold
Of those pearly gates.
Dec 13, 2018
Dec 13, 2018 at 8:42 PM UTC
Dandelion dreams wisped from
The lips of summers past,
Lips tasted
And gilded became the cage,
So to, ushered,
My sense of belonging.
I tried to move on,
An couldn’t
And she knew it;
She knew that I couldn’t
The moment –
I’d fallen upon her lap
As she grabbed one more
Dandelion
And took one more breath
And blew the dead petals
Whilst making the wind somehow
Dance, and I,
The fool once more –
In love and unable to flee.
Mar 9, 2016
Mar 9, 2016 at 10:04 PM UTC
There's a thought that crosses through and by,
to evaporate up to the sky,
fetal posistion and eyelids kissed,
wisped away softly with the mist.
Apr 12, 2015
Apr 12, 2015 at 9:06 AM UTC
It is Cinders upon string
Charred reminiscence of what
Kept away the
Terror,
Horror,
Bad
Dreams where caught weaved
Into its substance, sleeping, dreams
Captured upon the feathers they wisped
Them away in to the winds,
But then that dream, that moment as
My body lay still as if
Rigor mortis,
Stiffness,
Death
Looked upon me, but then as if
Grabbed by the unseen
My back arches,
Arms spread out, fingers open as if
Feathers for me to take flight,
"Then the scream,"
As my lungs petrified to breath to
Inhale
&
Exhale
That moment before unconsciousness
Then air seeps, surges in
And the dream catcher, rekindled
What was charred, feathers ash
Now hang again from twine,
Darkness tried to
Envelope,
Surround,
Suffocate
Me, within my dream
But the aura of the catcher
Breathed light
Into my mind, vanquished
That which seeded within,
I settle now, never knowing that the
Dream, darkness nestled upon me
But my dream catcher
Kept me safe from outside as well as with in.
Nov 8, 2014
Nov 8, 2014 at 5:39 AM UTC
On the plains of forgotten dreams a wondering
Night terror awoke, its sluggish motion once
Dormant but it had its banshee howls reverberated
upon the old stained thoughts that grew.
Always reaching for a purpose, but the wail shattered
Them into pools of liquid fantasy evaporating into
Nothing so long they had they grown now they were
But as forgotten as all in the land. dream now awoke.
Blinded by darkness it succumb to primal fears, ripping
Upon a daydream now scarred in thought. The forest
Of dreams growing to bear fruit in minds yet to see,
Now bleed tears liquid terror as it screamed.
A dream walker happened upon the ether that radiated
So, perpetual mist gathered around. It screamed and
To knees pushed upon, a dream catcher worn charred
By the breath of fear so strong. on feet once again stood.
Words whispered, as layers wisped in to the impressions
Changing essence like leaves falling. Like a melody they
Washed over, cleansing the fears that blanketed its un-awoken
Motions on the land. And still it became, its true form shaped.
A child yearning self, a fear gripped upon Its subconscious,
Needing to hear its mind, afflicted that which would not let
It awaken to the realms of reality. But trapped in darkness
Within ones self, and he raised his hands over and sang.
"Little one of light, grasping on night tainted touch,
"Free is your dream, no terrors touch on you tonight,
Slumber in peace, no other fear shall greet you this night,
Awake little one, and faded into realities grasp did this
Little one glide. The night terrors are dormant creatures
Who's howl signals fear in this realm. But I will be here
To guild those who scream into fear of the night.
Oct 4, 2015
Oct 4, 2015 at 4:07 PM UTC
My heart is a rebellion
of splayed foot soldier
cocked in red and white
marching like fire ants,
with drums wisped around necks
mimicking the heart’s murmur,
like a slogan of supremacy.
My heart is a rebellion
against my mind;
too often forgetting
I house them both.
May 23, 2017
May 23, 2017 at 11:50 PM UTC
My world slowly fades to black
All I have known, lost
All the love I shared, gone
All the times I cared, no more
The past slowly becomes
a fading light
A raging chasm of blackness
Memories melt into dreams
and old feelings are wisped away
in the afternoon breeze
The winter is coming
and the sky tightens its grip
The snow ready to blanket the earth
But, just like every year
the spring will come
The warmth of the sun
radiating its light
to thaw the damp earth
The spring will bring new warmth
and...
New hope
The world will once again
fade back to light
Dec 10, 2012
Dec 10, 2012 at 11:29 AM UTC
She moves like she's one of the amorphous personalities painted somewhere
Along the angled framework of her body pattern:
Handcrafted with the vivacious energy inherent
In my far-seeing dreams the vision of a long-ago queen of the holiest swamps
Traversing them coldly, shining her starlight to dispel all my awful ugly nightmares.
Riding sidesaddle with the billows of morning
Hair wisped about by the wind and blowing watercolor across
The beautiful blooming valleys of her crescent-shaded eye frame.
And weaving out from the delicate anthers of slyly tangled lashes
Comes the glittering deep ribbons loosely noosed about me with suction,
And it turns out that I can survive for ever without food or water
From only one such glance.
Lost in that glassy prism container like an obedient insect, forced
To love himself because all his misfortunes are waved away and explained
By the invisible guiding lines raised in joy at each corner of her faintly blushing lip-land.
Well, Breath-Stealer, even if we can only meet softly now -
A vanishing semblance caught by cold air on our exhales perhaps - soon,
Our individual apparitions will flesh themselves out of the nowhere of time coincidences
And out thankful togetherness can coagulate like feather cracks in crystal:
Two human forms finally able to ignore the vase between them
Sooner than the closest oceans that wave to us,
And surer than sunrise.
Nov 10, 2011
Nov 10, 2011 at 2:25 PM UTC
8 months ago,
it did not seem like we needed drugs
and alcohol
to have fun.
And suddenly,
there was everything
we had heard about from
everyone else.
But instead of in the whispered gossip
and the disjointed stumblings of drunken dreams
it was right in front of us.
And so the straightedge in us
was bent
with every shot glass
with every smoking joint
that we brought to our anxious lips.
Slowly, hesitantly, at first,
our arms creaked upwards towards our open mouths,
as if we were training muscles,
we didn’t even know we had.
But then it became familiar,
and our elbows flowed smoothly with the oil
of routine.
And at sometime during those long and blurred nights,
I lost track of what was right
and what was wrong.
With every sip I drowned my values
and with every inhale, I cremated my former self
and the white smoke of the fire
wisped up into the air of a dimly lit garage.
Until all I was left with was the present,
wondering where the future would take me.
Mar 26, 2011
Mar 26, 2011 at 12:20 PM UTC
Her solitude creeps
Along the early morning glow.
She sighs,
Solicitude leaking from the sky.
Her wisped hands
seek out companionship.
She whispers;
Words carry a shiver up your spine.
Her voice
Writes invisible sounds.
She is still searching,
Loveless and alone.
Her heart
Stifles hateful tears.
Her trepidation
Takes over.
She retreats,
away from the glow.
Mar 2, 2012
Mar 2, 2012 at 1:08 AM UTC
There will come a time where our inked words will eventually be etched across the doggy-eared, creased but never broken edges of our white hearts painted red.
It's the magic wisped within the silence of letters
that can truly make us a little more impervious.
A little bundle of warmth on cold, sleepless nights.
And you know, what is the best part, sweet-heart?
In the same way, the best part of sliced bread is the very middle,
warm duvet over your sleepy eyelids,
the kind of smile that "introduces you to yourself for the first time."
Or, the very fact, quotes peek-a-boo through my words. They live time after time. Through lips to another.
To one lovely soul and the next.
Those little breaths you take that feels like mint tooth-paste.
The best part is that those words are yours.
Every stroke, the deft indentations across the page,
oh, pages. (Yes, I do know you pen words at 2am then at 4 again.)
So many inexplicable things get snatched from our outstretched fingertips. Some willingly, some that we had to swallow silent good-byes.
It's ok-ay though.
These words, the ones dotting the back of your hand or the scribbles at the back of pages.
They all have your name etched & those creased memories tied like dainty ribbons upon them.
It is entirely and utterly
yours.
Yours in this starry universe.
Apr 18, 2014
Apr 18, 2014 at 8:34 AM UTC
silent tears burn
angry nightclubs with unconscious menageries of orange childhoods
drink the attention
artificial gleaming bodies licking knives sang burgundy 'glow' covers
winter answers ragdolls with drowning voices and double standards
aged sunrises shatter china wisped from personal dedication doodles
reminiscent of rain
seas mercilessly embellished with stinging souls from superficial smiles
suffered pink
writers cry ink and scream distant songs of artists life past
long understood things
premature custom murders and the crackling of caught conflagrations
professional bullets to multiheaded actresses pulsating lies
sacrificial circuses with retro dancers
bold riding on evident songbirds
choice movements ignored the colored flame
nonexistent pronouns
alien campaign
slithering sunlight control
impermanent celebration sending snuffed cries to insult children who struggle with melody and shed vines of saved unsure crime and unknown attraction
lost passengers with incorrect guestimates and impossible dreamlike stabs
honest as snakeskin
court born with salt and glitter
king calming tentacled shakespeare
seasoned atmosphere
looker smile
hiding sweet prominence
grasp shadows
finger paint the walls,
dead brother mine
white flame realize light pain
coldhanded, rosy eyes
death slowing reality
stop
Apr 28, 2019
Apr 28, 2019 at 12:13 PM UTC
Happiness
No more than plume of smoke
To be wisped away by these august winds
Where prosperity resides only to breed false hope.
A tempory state of mind!
Of weak emotion!
We use to mask what real pain is yet to come!
Where death be the true happiness we’ll
find!
For then our pain no longer be here!
A feeble lie we give ourselves !
Oh happiness
Aug 12, 2018
Aug 12, 2018 at 11:15 PM UTC
With gleeful smiles he did love his work, thoughts of
others fashioned into orbs. Those of most precious
moments never to be forgotten enshrined in this
master craft of incantation his palms drifted over
Those who wished it copied for keep sakes worth.
He spoke unto the winds as he formed a bubble
shimmering blank needing's of thought. Slight
images wisped from mind to orb, pictures formed
of what was a reflection duplicated in this spherical
wonder that floated above, he blew gently its form.
He had many of his own, but thoughts do wonder
"No his wondered, out of windows, doors,
soot fused spheres that cleaned his chimney top.
Losing his thoughts were a clear expression with
him but still the originals were safely stored inside.
His smile was infectious his heart white as his beard
with warmth. He never asked of anything for his
thoughts were of those in times to come to see who
they were in a memory. Never lost to generations, wise
words or comical moments all would last bonded in word.
Apr 16, 2016
Apr 16, 2016 at 2:03 PM UTC
The path was long and arduous
And night began to veer
O’er trees, and lanes and rusted gates
Its' shadows breeding fear
Unbridled Wind wisped ‘round
Tombstone crosses where
Hissing its’ frustration
Loudly in despair
It sought to nourish fears
The shadows did create
Searching everywhere to find
It’s soul-less night-time mate.
Moonbeam light kissed the Night
Claiming shadows as their child
Together then in lock-step
They bent on running wild
And there, where he awaited
Their cold inspiring touch
With doctrines of all Evils
Firmly in his clutch
The blackness in his heart,
Thumping ‘neath his frock
Soon it’s rancid maladies
The Wind would there unlock
Thoughts of what’s to come
Then twisted lips to smile
Revealing stained and yellowed teeth
Trapping breath so rank and vile
‘twas then The Prince of Avarice
Rose and stood *****
The world would soon be his
To ravage and infect
His eyes of snake, both bespake
Behind their reptile lids
The embrace of the doctrine
For no Evils it forbids
The Wind increased its’ howling
Icy fingers pushing fro
Arranging fallen hopes
Into a dead rouleau
And you and I so un-suspect
Of pending alchemy
Believing we were safe inside
Cocoons of normalcy.
Our naiveté so firmly grasped
Caused us to belie
The chaos we knew not …
‘twas there, and drawing nigh
As Wind fingers touched him
He yelled out his decree:
“ The Prince of Avarice shall reign
And destroy Democracy!”
His school of ghouls, dunce and fools
Clamored to his side
Greed having won the day
Was about to take It’s ride!
Greed, first blessed the banks
And Wall Street did rejoice
The Prince of Avarice then silenced
All protestor ‘s voice
With lies and propaganda
All fabricated well
Then all the bankers rang
The borrowers death knell
Morgan Stanley, AGI,
Then ‘twas Goldman-Sachs
Raking in what Greed gave out:
Billions in green-backs.
Glutted bankers,
Through laughter Greed had honed
Uncaringly showed the world
A prediction - their prodrome
Of broken dreams, foreclosure schemes
Insuring that which failed
But jobs the cost, as homes were lost
And not a banker jailed.
Oct 15, 2015
Oct 15, 2015 at 4:20 PM UTC
The window is strung with the residue of sun dried rain drops
like strands of glowworm silk hanging from the aged ledge of the forever forward shuttle.
They're from a storm passing through not too long ago, whose wrath still rises from the fallen leaves and souped soil on the side of the busy city sidewalks,
But the sun is warm and bright and the tree line ebbing and flowing against the blue morning sky is splattered with vibrant yellows and oranges and my nose fills my lungs with the crisp breeze that stands the hair on the back of my neck and my heart skips as my mind drifts towards the wisped clouds lounging just out of reach... and my cracked lips spread... and my teeth embrace the winter kissed air... and I laugh as a warmth fills me and... I think of you.
Oct 20, 2015
Oct 20, 2015 at 3:22 PM UTC
I imagine a man--
a strong, independent, pack leading figure
Who will always have the strength to carry his own family.
That on his wedding day he will carry his wife to bed
as he is expected to carry his children to theirs every night.
A man will be stern, and respected by those around him
every part of his being will be drawn to our attention.
He will have the heart of lion, the one bearing burdens, as he should
his shoulders will always stand firm, as the red woods have taught him well.
The voice of a man is deeper than the sounds of a bear,
being woken from hibernation.
His cave echos the triumphant's of experience,
as well as the wisdom's of manhood.
Truly a man is the best of his crafts
building treetop castles made of lumber and supplies
never needing instructions as he has it all inside
fixing all that he can fix, forever and always.
Emotionally, unknown--
his tempers sway, a brief signal in the sky, before it is wisped away.
Half grins yearning to resemble his wife and child
tightly holding those he loves in a lingering way--
unspoken is how it goes for a man.
Mar 22, 2015
Mar 22, 2015 at 5:37 AM UTC
The autumn moon was receeding
At 5 AM this morning
Riding the wave of seasons
Wind stirring in a constant dance with the leaves
My cold mug of milk set upon the wire table outside
Under the Serviceberry
So I can pet the dog.
Kinetic shadows on the table
Wisped and whipped over the mug
Laying upon the white liquid
Thicker than the reflected light and dark. Boundaries that can't be bought.
Did the shadows, could the shadows, penetrate the surface of the milk?
Going deeper in where I can not see
To a place furrowed low
Perceived, yet not seen.
Is it a place with a soul
Creamy and still
Unmatched like time, marching or halting, that
which we can not ever hold?
Shadows on milk do not sink.
Sep 22, 2024
Sep 22, 2024 at 8:21 AM UTC
Love is a free thing
So free and flightless
No strings attached
To this airy thing
So tangled and loose
Rose in our hearts,
Tightened our own grips
And forgot true meaning
Love needn't any obligations
No rules no ties
Love is so lovely it comes in all size...
Love is carried , wisped
I love you I am not
Afraid
I loved you
It feels free to love
All things
No strings attached
Heart fully on line
Jul 24, 2016
Jul 24, 2016 at 2:04 PM UTC
On the plains of silent gasp did it wonder
Its grace wisped upon the long grass, never
Seen but like the gentle breath of dancing.
It was never hushful in this place of breath.
Air did the grass sway to the movement's
Whispering upon the motions like a melody
Of ruffled motions, it played in this fluctuating
Gesture of tranquillity that always moved.
Swaying in rhythm as if the reeds did play,
As if fond of the others movements and then
Stillness till whispers graced and the plains.
All did dance once again.
On The plain of silent gasp, unheard off torment
As this was the exodus of lost souls, every motion
Brought a sting to the soul, as swaying grass, cured
On this plain of silent breath, silent screams quelled.
Withering in torment, never delve into the silence
As breath it exhales all and joins others moments
Where vessels fell and the anguish breathed upon
The grass. each huddling for away to serenities rest.
Sep 17, 2015
Sep 17, 2015 at 5:13 PM UTC
The rising of a sun,
glossing over every dewy leaf,
and my heart had been broken by a thief.
Blue skies illuminated by a golden god,
proudly hanging above,
and she starts cursing love.
Gently wisped clouds gliding,
cumulating and growing,
and my happiness is slowing.
Eagles soar higher,
animals prowling low to the ground,
and she's above water yet still she's being drowned.
The sun is setting,
the sky starts crying,
and my poetry is dying.
May 30, 2016
May 30, 2016 at 1:39 AM UTC
By the light of my last candle
Fighting the void, vastness of the night,
I endeavor to use the remaining ink
To paint a worded portrait of your sight.
I struggle to find eloquent metaphor,
Even find hardship with this quibbling prose
To record, to brush enough detail
Of exactly how my heart’s composed.
With bated breath, I do inhale you,
With staggered gait, I am withdrawn,
With gleaming eyes I do perceive you,
I wish it real to my last dawn.
Pure happenstance that I had been,
But so easily pulled into your mind,
However, you in mine always remain,
From when I first caught your steady gaze in time.
There was a fire inside me once,
That turned all therein to ash,
But you became my sweet lolling breeze
That wisped away the cremated past.
You sedate the Evil within me,
So far that you’d never know it was there,
And yet each day away between us
Brings closer my poisoning the air.
The tiresome, bleak creeks of old wind-leaning pines,
Draped across the gnarled forest where all things go to die,
Mean nothing to me in all ignorant omnicide;
I would give the world for you, my sweet paradise.
May 6, 2014
May 6, 2014 at 9:31 PM UTC