dreams poems

Bleach | JD DeHart

I just dreamed she
was a bleached blonde
but I know better,
Running up to me in a long
familiar unfamiliar hallways,
wrinkles and cracks.
She wants information, my
dreaming self knows I won’t
share; I have never shared
very well. In front of my
eyes flash a series
of red images. Any one
of them would make
a perfect tattoo. That’s how
I know I am awake.

Dreaming – A Poem by Stan Morrison

I discover so much as I dream
revealed to me with great clarity
dreams evaporate on contact with words,
the nameless and timeless dreamworld
cannot withstand attempts at word-scrutiny
and words crenate on exposure to dreams
sweet sleep outstrips the power of recall.

My Unsold Dreams | Krushna Chandra Mishra

Know now I am firm
and I have a dream to sell
I’ll sell it you know
before I know
I am very sure to go
from here
and for ever.
Do you not think
you will find time
to ask me now
why I am determined
to sell this dream
before I leave?
You know like ever
there could never be
a dream with me without
you, I could weave and grow
and I know you know
no need is there then to ask
if one or more of those
dreams to be sold are
still lying pending with me.

Treading Air | Diane Wooward Dorff

that kind of light
with the sun at its edges
spills from my window
that sunlight
fluent in summer
on primeval days
when I slipped into the undimmed air
like the unclouded water of my childhood
looking down and through as my eyes
harvest the luminous
morning in the glass of dreams
standing at the start of days and days
floating in the
transparent air endless and infinite
I see beyond the now
giddy with possibilities
the horizon clothed in translucent light
waltzing with beginnings
like the water that swirls
endlessly luminescent
stepping toward the window
portal of possibilities
I hold these truths to be self-evident
door of pale yellow
that spills inside
makes patterns on the rug
I am not finished yet
sunlight snagged in the tops of trees
dream catchers
dreams

Frisky Poem | Angelica Fuse

Today I’m feeling
frisky
like grand boat
adventure frisky
like learning
to be patient frisky
like eat something
new then get sick
frisky
but who knows
I will probably just
inhabit my couch
chewing on desires.

Night Sweats | Maggie Beck

Lizard dreams
bite me
A face in the corner
brink of shadow
watches me
I try to catch myself
but I feel small teeth
nibble me
It’s the lizard dream
again.

Shattering Dreams | Ananya S. Guha

I stop at points, life is not systemic, too many interludes which
behave like hangovers. Stopping. Pausing and then there are interruptions, abrasions, love, the past comes in a cycle, a metaphor. Dreams. I wish I had stopped reading and then speaking. Words are the biggest thieves, stealing all your rancid thoughts. I wish the moon would come down. Have a stop over, here near my Byzantine house and set aglow my arcades of home. Then shatter my moribund dreams.

Keeping the Dream Alive | Judy Moskowitz

Do you keep a dream alive
By sleeping with your eyes
Opened wide,
Taking in a vista
Of geography in
A world map of what life
Could really be
Travelling through the
Valley of veins
Leading to the heart,
A pounding message
So provocative
Shooting stars will verify
Its elixir,
Channeling a hologram
The one real thing
Standing before me,
Touching my skin in longing
Of today’s tomorrow
Keeping the dream alive.

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