Waking Poems

In visions of the dark night
I have dreamed of joy departed-
But a waking dream of life and light
Hath left me broken-hearted.
...

I am: yet what I am none cares or knows,
My friends forsake me like a memory lost;
I am the self-consumer of my woes,
They rise and vanish in oblivious host,
...

Oh! that my young life were a lasting dream!
My spirit not awakening, till the beam
Of an Eternity should bring the morrow.
Yes! tho' that long dream were of hopeless sorrow,
...

«Let this fluffy snow fall upon our
Dreams and make them shine! »

Set free,
...

Your lungs fill & spread themselves,
wings of pink blood, and your bones
empty themselves and become hollow.
When you breathe in you’ll lift like a balloon
...

Under his helmet, up against his pack,
After so many days of work and waking,
Sleep took him by the brow and laid him back.
...

All all and all the dry worlds lever,
Stage of the ice, the solid ocean,
All from the oil, the pound of lava.
City of spring, the governed flower,
...

I wonder, by my truth, what thou and I
Did, till we loved; were we not weaned till then,
But sucked on country pleasures, childishly?
Or snorted we in the Seven Sleepers' den?
...

'And ask ye why these sad tears stream?'

‘Te somnia nostra reducunt.’
OVID.
...

A dark unfathomed tide
Of interminable pride -
A mystery, and a dream,
Should my early life seem;
...

Farewell!--God knows when we shall meet again.
I have a faint cold fear thrills through my veins
...

These hearts were woven of human joys and cares,
Washed marvellously with sorrow, swift to mirth.
The years had given them kindness. Dawn was theirs,
And sunset, and the colours of the earth.
...

How he sleepeth! having drunken
Weary childhood's mandragore,
From his pretty eyes have sunken
Pleasures, to make room for more- -
...

When the morning was waking over the war
He put on his clothes and stepped out and he died,
The locks yawned loose and a blast blew them wide,
He dropped where he loved on the burst pavement stone
...

Go to sleep- though of course you will not-
to tideless waves thundering slantwise against
strong embankments, rattle and swish of spray
dashed thirty feet high, caught by the lake wind,
...

A BOAT beneath a sunny sky,
Lingering onward dreamily
In an evening of July --
Children three that nestle near,
...

When music sounds, gone is the earth I know,
And all her lovely things even lovelier grow;
Her flowers in vision flame, her forest trees
Lift burdened branches, stilled with ecstasies.
...

In May my heart was breaking-
Oh, wide the wound, and deep!
And bitter it beat at waking,
And sore it split in sleep.
...

If your eyes were not the color of the moon,
of a day full [here, interrupted by the baby waking -- continued about 26
hours later ]
of a day full of clay, and work, and fire,
...

87

A darting fear—a pomp—a tear—
A waking on a morn
...

still a few warm memories endure
glow with warm wonder like glowworms
deep underground glowing in total darkness
in glowworm spin spiral incredible galaxies
...

still a few warm memories endure
sleep waking on a rocky riverbed
summertime alone where slept
without need tent shelter in sleeping
...

listening mind listening
listen creativity listening
waking to light rainfall blessing
early thoughts turn tranquil thinking
...

listening wind blowing
listening rain falling
waking to heavy rain falling
early morning late night still dark waking
...

Waking Up To Regret

To wake up drenched in disappointment
And be said to be alive
...

Bitter-Sweet Sorrow,
fill my waking eyes open
open
get up, my sheets of sweat,
...

There is no era of bullying now
Slavery should have disappeared on this earth as well as colonialism in the world must be abolished, there are forms of conquer, new styles just appear
However, the fact is not so, it turns out that it was the poor who had to submit to the bourgeoisie and this is still happening to this day
Still moving or rising against
...

Sitting in silence bereft of the open storm that billows around my waking heart. The ice catches my tongue as the falling water soothes my soul. I am not lost within my depth. And the torrent is but a wilderness to tame. I am the receiver. The patient, silent observer. My mind is the storm. I am the stillness. My thoughts the wilderness.
...

There are no words I could
Think of to drown out your cries,
Have you ever loved someone to death that you'd wish for a quick death.
Cold nights numb and silent
...

writing in dreams can achieve seamless perfection glorious

to write a poem perfect in a dream is an energizing bliss
but to remember the poem upon waking is not a near miss
...