Related quotes: When from camp bed cramp...

The Joys Of Waking

When from camp bed cramp limbs I raise,
I never hesitate to praise
Lord Luck, loud laud and by degrees
attain crescendo! Nor bent knees,
nor moving lips, dumb witness lay
with supplication night or day,
convinced Fate’s finger points to please.

No reverential resignation
may undermine anticipation,
wish ill conceived, thought un expressed,
defensive mind-set, wants supressed.
Nowhere there’s sense of supplication -
for boundless strength spurns condemnation –
strength weakness spurns, by Fate twice blessed.

No shapes and thoughts some others see
in anguish and in agony,
up-starting from some fiendish crowd
of rued regrets bewailed aloud,
spoil waking moments which new dawn
should welcome, hibernation torn.
No nightmares bets hedged, lead head bowed.

Ignoring sense of painful wrong
lights lurid, frightful trampling throng,
for rights I fight forthrightfully
weave justice into equity.
Desires with loathing strangely mixed,
on threatening fearful neighbours fixed,
are strangers, foreigners for me;

The clock of optimism ticks
to scorn manipulative tricks,
thirst for revenge with powerless will
allied both baffled, burning, still
are absent from life’s waking leap
as from soft coverlets eyes peep
at fresh ambitions to fulfill.

Though aims stay hidden, flames are bid
to temper soul’s steel, conquering Cid
fools suffers not, time spilt, guilt, woe,
all banished by the will to know
without confusion, waste of time,
the causal links that tune life’s chime
through strings slave puppet daren’t o’erthrow.

Some toss, nights lost, to vain dismay,
sad, stunted, stunned, numbed, waking day
fear to embrace. Electron free
on waves chromatic, joyfully,
I would advance from sleep to greet
sustained success, triumph complete,
repudiating apathy.

Some treat quite as catastrophe
night’s spite, when haunting phantoms free
range till cock’s crow wakes from dream’s page
strange sufferings which teem and rage
as migraine’s over-riding theme
denying sunshine’s balmy beam –
convicts convinced by self-made cage.

Such punishments, I say, seem due
to twisted natures who simmer, stew
in their own fiery hell within
nocturnal sin sweat, fear to win.
Few slumber sound who can’t dispell
past problems from sleep tidal swell,
solutions positive can’t spin.

Greet each day’s play with heart unbound,
send spirits soaring, life’s then found
to know no horrors, aims unmet,
grief-laden, puffy lids tear wet.
Whet appetite ambitious, fresh,
with surge momentous, motives mesh
succeed seed, speed feed freed, not fret.

Life’s griefs on which most men agree,
will never, never fall on me,
to be beloved is all I need,
and whom I love, I love indeed.
I lose no sleep, solutions find
as wants with actions are combined
refreshed uniting thought and deed.

poem by Jonathan Robin
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Related quotes

The Pains Of Sleep

Ere on my bed my limbs I lay,
It hath not been my use to pray
With moving lips or bended knees ;
But silently, by slow degrees,
My spirit I to Love compose,
In humble trust mine eye-lids close,
With reverential resignation,
No wish conceived, no thought exprest,
Only a sense of supplication ;
A sense o'er all my soul imprest
That I am weak, yet not unblest,
Since in me, round me, every where
Eternal Strength and Wisdom are.

But yester-night I prayed aloud
In anguish and in agony,
Up-starting from the fiendish crowd
Of shapes and thoughts that tortured me :
A lurid light, a trampling throng,
Sense of intolerable wrong,
And whom I scorned, those only strong !
Thirst of revenge, the powerless will
Still baffled, and yet burning still !
Desire with loathing strangely mixed
On wild or hateful objects fixed.
Fantastic passions ! maddening brawl !
And shame and terror over all !
Deeds to be hid which were not hid,
Which all confused I could not know
Whether I suffered, or I did :
For all seemed guilt, remorse or woe,
My own or others still the same
Life-stifling fear, soul-stifling shame.

So two nights passed : the night's dismay
Saddened and stunned the coming day.
Sleep, the wide blessing, seemed to me
Distemper's worst calamity.
The third night, when my own loud scream
Had waked me from the fiendish dream,
O'ercome with sufferings strange and wild,
I wept as I had been a child ;
And having thus by tears subdued
My anguish to a milder mood,
Such punishments, I said, were due
To natures deepliest stained with sin,--
For aye entempesting anew
The unfathomable hell within,
The horror of their deeds to view,
To know and loathe, yet wish and do !
Such griefs with such men well agree,
But wherefore, wherefore fall on me ?
To be beloved is all I need,
And whom I love, I love indeed.

poem by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
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Pains Of Sleep, The

poem by Samuel Taylor Coleridge
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Demented - failing lives

Thousands sit awake at night
On watch for movements of the day
To hear the creaky-groany boards
The closing door - the moving chair

They estimate what actions keep
The one demented soul awake
And settle only on the loss
Of sound of movement through the wall

Or yet - exhausted - sleep in spite
Of night long wailing out of dreams
A Sisterhood - a Brotherhood
For years their ears attune the need

Which patched and pricked into their soul
Will still advance while there is life
Their life - or life of one they love
In retrospective empathy

Of times when love meant everything
They settle stunned by misery
And cope as well they're able to
Give up when nothing's making sense

To sleep in guilty nightmare's grip
To - waking - find continuance
The fact of small destructiveness
Upon a mind once clear and bright

Shows here in sorrow - loss of self
And loss of will to wash and dress
Or to ensure that meals are made
Or eaten once - not twice nor thrice

That sinks and baths are not the same
As toilet bowls - and floors left clean
Are spread in brown - the stink removes
The will to eat in those who care

Yet loss of smell in failing mind
Allows no deep concerning thought
Of gas or food gone over long
Nor any sense in life still lived

By others round about - nor need
To gather love nor willingness
For those who care - yet cannot care
In spite of all - nor take delight
In love returned - nor hopefulness
Of better times to come.

09Jan2012 CPR

poem by Charlotte Peters Rock
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In the spirit of Rumi - 47 - A Confession of Love Withheld

Now with surprise and sadness, I have realised–
I do not love you as much as I thought…

When you are beside me
in the bed when I awake
I whisper with my waking breath
to your open or your sleeping eyes,
‘I love you’…and in that,
I find myself…

But when you are far away
my first involuntary waking thought
is not of you, or love, or God
Who guided me through the night,
Who taught me to enjoy
His great invention, sleep…
but of myself…
myself and world as two
and I am lost to myself…

and know, I have not yet
surrendered all my mind and will
to God…

O My Beloved
how can I love you fully, as God loves, when
I do not yet see God
in every waking moment
in myself?

poem by Michael Shepherd
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A Confer With Life

One day life asked me
What I was doing in this world
If not to love or to pass on strength
Then why, o son of Adam, you live?

Waking up from a vague dream
I looked upon life and answered
I am here to have fun all day long
And to attain my dream, to gain success

With a giggle and a chuckle
Life sniggered and asked
If to attain your dream, why you sleep
Rouse, o son of Adam, rouse

Agitated from my sweet sleep
I glared at life and said
To dream, I fall into a long serene sleep
And then I dream, I dream, I dream

Shocked or not, life looked alarmed at me
To dream, you sleep, I know
But to achieve you dream, wake up my boy
The outside sun awaits you

That day, life taught me a lesson
To achieve success, O son’s of Adam
Wake up from your dreams

DECEMBER 23,2008

poem by Sania Harris
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Insomnia

Im running in quicksand
Somethings haunting me
The guilty past Ive buried
My mind wont let me sleep
Ill do anything for peace - I keep waking up
A solemn oath I make
Cross my heart please let me sleep - I keep waking up
How much more do I take
My head is talking to me
I dont know what it needs
But the loudest voice
Is the one I heed
Insomnia, my swollen bloodshot eyes
Insomnia, awake till morning light
Insomnia, stirring deep inside
Insomnia, somebody turn out the lights
I cant sleep - insomnia
Im twisting and turning - I keep waking up
The madness I must tame
My candle is burning - I keep waking up
Both ends again today
The whole house is creaking
I know theyre out there
The things kept from sight
I beg to the shadows
I cant sleep
Insomnia, footsteps on the walk
Insomnia, I hear someone knock
Insomnia, I wish it was a dream
Insomnia, can you hear me scream

song performed by by Megadeth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Aubade And I Am Not Like Other Birds Of Prey

Morning at last!
Every night is a fight till you're waking
Dreams dancing past
Through the silence of sleep
Dawn is breaking
I wake and watch them till then
And I am not like other birds of prey
And I am not like other birds of prey
Oh, night is long, you won't needing me
For a dressed up time I am there to see
That fear holds no sway
Soft is my plan
And my eyes kill the lies that felt happy
Life is my right
And in sleep's little bed
I'll protect you
So, hear, let my presence dismay
That I am not like other birds of prey
That I am not like other birds of prey
When hopes are young and your cares are few
Then I'm sure above keeping truth in you
And my name is love
Submitted by Michael Hack

song performed by by Supertramp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Waking dream

Ooh waking dream ooh waking dream
That causes all my agony
I heave with anguish meshed with misery
For your departure like the rapture
Has taken any hope for a blissful eternity

Ooh waking dream ooh waking dream
Pawn has made its move to take the queen
A lonely king to make seven moves
To escape with pride and not to loose

Waking dream that fades away
Like a beautiful sunset that ends a day
Usher darkness into my life
With madness is how I cope at nights

Hide any weakness in murkiness
Having every answer and still I guess

Ooh waking dream ooh waking dream
Your a reflection of a dying memory

poem by Raymond Valadez
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A Terrible Night

In the sweetest moment
of the night,
when sleep and dreams would
relieve and encompass
conscious thoughts.

I heard a sound.

I was awaken by the sound.
The sound came from the
door and it was lighter than
the tick of the clock.

I rested on the wall.
Hugged myself with a
preambulating heart
that has refuse comfort
because of the quiet sound.

The sound came again.
This time it was rapid.
Sinking me deep in fear,
enveloping me with goose pimple.

Suddenly, the sound stopped.
I stared at the door,
awaiting my fate.
For the night is still young and
deep within i long for dawn.

I waited.
There was nothing. Every
thing was quiet, too quiet.
Except sound from my beating
heart and tickling clock.

My eyes were wide open.
I focused on the door while
my thoughts move to and fro
my past and present deeds.
Oh Lord i cry, forgive me.

Time passed by.

The cock crow, immediately
i had a staggering courage.
I walked slowly to the door,
with immerse fear, i opened it.

With great sigh, i was relieved
though i had lost my sleep.

All this while, i have been
denied a good night by my
neighbour's dog, who was
found sleeping close to my door.

poem by Enebeli Ifyprada
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Nightmares

Nightmares sneaking in my bed
Living life over in my head
Causing all the fear to come back alive
Bringing back memories with such drive
In them, someone always after me
Why can't they let me go and let me be free
Afraid to go to sleep at night
They will start and cause such fright
The nightmares just won't go away
In my sleep they still betray
Feelings that are buried deep down
When I go to sleep they come around
My mind, my life I thought free of them
What I think's behind me, will always stem
So when I go to bed I pray
That I can sleep tonight, until the day!

poem by Donna Nimmo
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Ere Sleep Comes Down To Soothe The Weary Eyes

ERE sleep comes down to soothe the weary eyes,
Which all the day with ceaseless care have sought
The magic gold which from the seeker flies;
Ere dreams put on the gown and cap of thought,
And make the waking world a world of lies, —
Of lies most palpable, uncouth, forlorn,
That say life's full of aches and tears and sighs, —
Oh, how with more than dreams the soul is torn,
Ere sleep comes down to soothe the weary eyes.
Ere sleep comes down to soothe the weary eyes,
How all the griefs and heartaches we have known
Come up like pois'nous vapors that arise
From some base witch's caldron, when the crone
To work some potent spell, her magic plies.
The past which held its share of bitter pain,
Whose ghost we prayed that Time might exorcise,
Comes up, is lived and suffered o'er again,
Ere sleep comes down to soothe the weary eyes.
Ere sleep comes down to soothe the weary eyes,
What phantoms fill the dimly lighted room;
What ghostly shades in awe-creating guise
Are bodied forth within the teeming gloom.
What echoes faint of sad and soul-sick cries,
And pangs of vague inexplicable pain
That pay the spirit's ceaseless enterprise,
Come thronging through the chambers of the brain,
Ere sleep comes down to soothe the weary eyes.
Ere sleep comes down to soothe the weary eyes,
Where ranges forth the spirit far and free?
Through what strange realms and unfamiliar skies
Tends her far course to lands of mystery?
To lands unspeakable — beyond surmise,
Where shapes unknowable to being spring,
Till, faint of wing, the Fancy fails and dies
Much wearied with the spirit's journeying,
Ere sleep comes down to soothe the weary eyes.
Ere sleep comes down to soothe the weary eyes,
How questioneth the soul that other soul, —
The inner sense which neither cheats nor lies,
But self exposes unto self, a scroll
Full writ with all life's acts unwise or wise,
In characters indelible and known;
So, trembling with the shock of sad surprise,
The soul doth view its awful self alone,
Ere sleep comes down to soothe the weary eyes.
When sleep comes down to seal the weary eyes,
The last dear sleep whose soft embrace is balm,
And whom sad sorrow teaches us to prize
For kissing all our passions into calm,
Ah, then, no more we heed the sad world's cries,
Or seek to probe th' eternal mystery,
Or fret our souls at long-withheld replies,
At glooms through which our visions cannot see,
When sleep comes down to seal the weary eyes.

poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Choice Channels Choice Channels Choice Current Version

Is Man Free Will or karmic puppet strung
upon Fate's juggling whim with sting or stung
dependant on some déjà vu song sung
by Time's wind blown?

Thus, 'What is Truth? ' if logic's made to fit
some preconceived ideas, Cartesian kit:
'The moving finger writes, and having writ
moves on' to clone

another pawn whose dawn is followed soon
by blight or boon, pride's sunny afternoon
is swift supplanted by black night. Buffoon
who would gold own!

Who seeks control, spurns writing on the wall
is often role-reversed, flight's final fall,
who takes theme 'dream supreme', who 'hears the call'
may be just drone.

What Tao to follow, what gleans win, means lose,
what grief's choice try, buy, what joy's track refuse?
Hindsight finds, binds vice voice to confuse
what's light, what's stone.

Hindsight tricks weal's wicks, drum double-bind,
dream mirage offers hesitating mind,
as what before remains, what's left behind,
hopes overthrown,
depends on more than superficial weave wound
on waft and weft success or failure found,
on pride or fall. Peak's call, cave underground,
mirth, dearth, atone.

Insight holds good when goal's perceived, race run
with trust, integrity, deception shunned,
with Fate's thread spun what seems done's just begun,
take stock alone.

Seconds spin, dissolve, fresh mesh weaves lace,
flesh minutes in strange sequence, interlace
the hours which daily years refresh to race
Ganesh unknown.

Each thought wave ripples out, conceives trump's ace
as cause/effect relationship few trace
and fewer find the time to interface
fate's seeds unsown.

All makes sense when channelled, radar's trace
decodes what static seems to those who'd lace
the edges of their cells of time and place
together thrown

Time deceives, re-edits joy, disgrace
here tosses coin, replaces tail with face,
there spin repeats, initial choice erase
with cards unshown.

What some believe as Gospel state of grace,
others hold heresy, biased debunk, debase.
Black, white, day, night, lack insight to replace
with hid what's shown.

On ignorance creeds feed, doubts cleave to base
on certanties' tease, insecure, they chase
from fount to font minds blind or lower case,
can't call their own
trust, tolerance leave or misplace
understanding, for neighbours living space
to foster common interest with good grace,
not pick a bone.

Thread pattern, fractal facettes reeve, erase
retinal after-image to encase
the here and now in setting far from base,
hear 'how's' tune-tone.

Thought waves pushmi-pully, surge, merge,
heave sigh of relief, burst bottlenecks embrace
Change interlink to ink invent, deplace
accent ‘chance' blown.

Surf foams with make-believe, fears future's face
leaves fall, leave echo [c]old, untold, embrace
the stirrings of another zeitgeist's pace
as challenge prone.

Second thoughts conjur hell or saving grace,
momentum gathered rushes on a-pace,
continuous, relentless, rolling race
to the unknown.

[19 June 2012]

poem by Jonathan Robin
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Good Night

Love, thou hast wandered far and wide,
But here thy wanderings cease;
Thy long- sought mate is by thy side,
And thou canst sleep in peace.

Night moans outside our window- pane,
And weeps from dripping eaves;
The air is thick with falling rain
Upon dead autumn leaves.

The winds of winter rave and chafe
Around thy tranquil nest,
But I am here, and thou art safe —
Thy very soul may rest.

The wild surf- thunder swells and falls
Upon the seething beach —
Thy world within thy chamber- walls
Nor winds nor waves can reach.

Sleep, fired eyes! Sleep well, dear heart,
That ached so long for me!
No sudden hand shall tear apart
These arms that shelter thee

Sleep well, though late- found joys be brief,
And bought with tears and pain;
Shut out the memory of thy grief —
Thou didst not grieve in vain.

Think of our treasure, kept in store,
And not the price it cost —
Those precious years, that come no more,
Which thou and I have lost.

O, wasted years, that lie behind
Hush — what is past is past.
Enough that we have lived to find
What life is worth at last.

Though Fate has robbed us of so much,
We know not what we miss;
All ills are recompensed in such
A priceless good as this.

10.

Sleep,dear! The hours are passing on —
The midnight bells have tolled;
Think not how much of life is gone,
But how much more we hold.

11.

Yes, more — as wise men reckon life —
Though no wise man can tell
How soon, for husband and for wife,
The stroke of doom will knell.

12.

No echo of that solemn chime
Break through thy perfect peace!
No forecast of that awful time
When time for us will cease:

13.

When happier worlds shall shine in space,
For other eyes to see,
And none have any more a place
For thy true love and thee.

14.

Be blind to all, and deaf, and dumb,
In thy quick heart's despite!
Content thee — though the end must come,
It will not come to- night.

15.

This night let never thought of ill
Disturb thy slumber deep;
To- morrow I shall have thee still,
So thou canst safely sleep:

16.

Reprieved from that appalling fear,
As from thy long regret —
Be our last parting far or near,
We have not reached it yet.

17.

Thy head lies pillowed on my breast —
My cheek upon thy brow —
Dear love, good night! Thou art at rest
From Past and Future now.

poem by Ada Cambridge
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Mother's Lullaby

Oh, my child, fret no more
Close your eyes and go to sleep.
Here I am by your side
Singing lullabies, sweet and cherished.

All sounds are stilled for you to sleep in quiet
All lights out that no beam hurt your eyes
All storms calmed that to a blissful rest you glide
No horrifying dreams to rob you of your snooze.

Sleep, sleep rocking in the sea of joy
Sleep, sleep close to your mother's throbbing heart
Sleep, sleep listening to this gentle lay I tune
Sleep, sleep to wake, to the miracle of life.

Fear not, around you much love abounds
And legions of angels, to guard your sleep.
Thy eyes shall hither new beauties behold
And many a marvel, for you to rejoice.

It's for you the stars twinkle and gleam
It's for you the breeze hums sweet and blest
It's for you the buds open at the fall of gloom
It's for you the glow worms scatter rays of gold.

It's for you, the seasons come and go
It's for you, the fruits ripen and fall
It's for you, the raindrops plop n' break
It's for you, God paints the sky in myriad hues.

Now hush my baby, sleep my child
Lying below this smiling silver moon
Good night darling, drift away
To the land of dreams, where fairies live.

Conceived within before you were born
Called you names and caressed you soft
Cuddled you tight and kept you safe
In the secret chamber of my maiden heart.

I pledge your soul to God our Lord
May He watch you through the gloom!
I consign my babe to His sacred trust
And bid you away to dream's Never never land

Sleep, sleep rocking in the sea of joy
Sleep, sleep close to your mother's throbbing heart
Sleep, sleep listening to this gentle lay I tune
Sleep, sleep to wake, to the miracle of life.

poem by Valsa George
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When I Think About You

When I wake up in the morning time and see the sun I say
Hallelujah, thank you Jesus for waking me up today
I think about his goodness and the wonderful things he's done;
Forgiving me, setting me free and casting my sins away
And soon as I was about to fall you stepped right in on time
Picked me up, and let me know you had nothing but love for me
And those lonely nights when I thought that I gonna lose my mind (my mind)
Lord, You were my company
And now I feel joy (when I think about you)
I feel strength (when I think about you)
No pain (when I think about you)
And no rain (when I think about you)
I get glad (when I think about you)
And raise my hands (when I think about you)
Shout your name (when I think about you)
(When I think about you)
And in the midst of the storm you were the shelter in my life
Even though (I was doing wrong) and even though (I fell off)
No-one can help me out, the way you helped me whenever I was in need
When trouble was chasing, I was weak (mmm) you kept your hands on me
My God you sacrifised you life that I might live for eternity
Despite my faults, you heard my cry (yes you did) and forgave my inequity
No-one can understand, the way you understand when it comes to my heart
Lord you gave me a brand new start
And now I feel joy (when I think about you)
Feel strength (when I think about you)
There is no pain (when I think about you)
No rain (when I think about you)
I get glad (when I think about you)
Raise my hands (when I think about you)
And shout your name (when I think about you) Oh Lord
(When I think about you)
Listen
Even though your doubts will come (doubts will come)
Believe he gave his only son (all of the world) to all the world
He chose to love (oh, yes he did) so how can we not (how can we not) send our praises up
I feel joy (when I think about you)
Feel strength, yeah (when I think about you)
There's no rain (when I think about you)
No more pain (when I think about you)
I get glad, ohh (when I think about you)
Then I raise my hands (when I think about you)
Shout your name (when I think about you) oh I
(When I think about you)
I feel joy (when I think about you)
And peace (when I think about you)
Feel your presence (when I think about you)
Coming over me (when I think about you)
Then I start to fall, yeah (when I think about you)
Down to my knees (when I think about you)
And begin to pray (when I think about you) Lord help me
(When I think about you)
Then I see the light (when I think about you)
Startin' to shine right through (when I think about you)
It's a brand new day (when I think about you)
And my heart's renewed (when I think about you)
And all my fears are gone (when I think about you)
Away (when I think about you)
When my day looks cloudy (when I think about you)
It's gonna be okay (When I think about you)
Yeah-ohh-no (when I think about you)
(When I think about you)
How you gave me love (gave me love) (when I think about you)
And I gave you nothing (gave you nothing) (when I think about you)
How you woke me up (hey!) (when I think about you)
And started me on my way (started me on my way) (when I think about you)
See you did not have to do it (when I think about you)
But you did it any old way (when I think about you)
Any old, any old, any old way (when I think about you)
Yes you did, yes you did (when I think about you)
Yes you did, yes you did (when I think about you)
Yes you did, (when I think about you)
Hey-hey-hey-hey (when I think about you)
Hey-hey-hey-hey (when I think about you)
Hey-hey-hey-hey (when I think about you)
Hey-hey-hey whoo
Oh yes (uh) (when I think about you)
(When I think about you)
(When I think about you)
(When I think about you)

song performed by by R. Kelly
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Melancholia

SILENTLY without my window,
Tapping gently at the pane,
Falls the rain.
Through the trees sighs the breeze
Like a soul in pain.
Here alone I sit and weep;
Thought hath banished sleep.
Wearily I sit and listen
To the water's ceaseless drip.
To my lip
Fate turns up the bitter cup,
Forcing me to sip;
'Tis a bitter, bitter drink,
Thus I sit and think, —
Thinking things unknown and awful,
Thoughts on wild, uncanny themes,
Waking dreams.
Spectres dark, corpses stark,
Show the gaping seams
Whence the cold and cruel knife
Stole away their life.
Bloodshot eyes all strained and staring,
Gazing ghastly into mine;
Blood like wine
On the brow — clotted now—
Shows death's dreadful sign.
Lonely vigil still I keep;
Would that I might sleep!
Still, oh, still, my brain is whirling!
Still runs on my stream of thought;
I am caught
In the net fate hath set.
Mind and soul are brought
To destruction's very brink;
Yet I can but think!
Eyes that look into the future, —
Peeping forth from out my mind,
They will find
Some new weight, soon or late,
On my soul to bind,
Crushing all its courage out,—
Heavier than doubt.
Dawn, the Eastern monarch's daughter,
Rising from her dewy bed,
Lays her head
'Gainst the clouds' sombre shrouds
Now half fringed with red.
O'er the land she 'gins to peep;
Come, O gentle Sleep!
Hark! the morning cock is crowing;
Dreams, like ghosts, must hie away;
'Tis the day.
Rosy morn now is born;
Dark thoughts may not stay.
Day my brain from foes will keep;
Now, my soul, I sleep.

poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Afraid to love

When love was sweet and life was good,
I thought I could never love anyone as deep,
Optimism found me in another mood,
And made promise to live and die to keep.

But after I found out the painful truth,
My heart rearranges and preserves the pain,
Hold each moment within a single thought,
I became afraid to love again.

And all the promises kind winds blow,
Opportunity into lovely notes of pleasant tune,
Through the door and at my window,
I am still afraid to love again.

When I fall asleep capsize into twisted realism,
In tears I tell myself the only secret I fear,
If chance comes by I may never love again,
Although I long to share the joy with another.

Who may be standing somewhere in the shadow,
And stare at me, but I am bound to be there,
I've turn away, yet if love could make the fear go,
And become the vestige of care.

What love so great can set my spirit free?
By night and day freedom gain from fear,
Left deep compositions haunting me,
In moods and wounds which go deep and near.

poem by Gerry Legister
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Red Eye

I live my life out a suitcase
Catching the red eye
Probably should be sleeping now
Instead I
Stay up at all hours
Until this line can get right
In my head and on the paper
See you later
No bed time
Up before the break in dawn
I’m waking up the rooster
Rest stolen from my eyes
Like carjackers and boosters
I mean looters and the shooters
Running through the streets at night
As the red eye watches them
Pinpointing a steady light
It’s déjà vu,
All over again for me
The nothing always grows
In this never ending story
Of scrambled faces and places
Mixed up with my memory
I thought
The mirror said I
Stood out in a crowd of zombies
With dead eyes
Time for the next flight
I wake up and go to sleep
To start and finish one day
And the calendar makes a leap
But every day is still Monday

poem by P.R. Prosper
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O God of Heaven! The dream of horror

O God of heaven! The dream of horror,
The frightful dream is over now;
The sickened heart, the blasting sorrow,
The ghastly night, the ghastlier morrow,
The aching sense of utter woe.

The burning tears that would keep welling,
The groan that mocked at every tear,
That burst from our dreary dwelling,
As if each gasp were life expelling,
But life was nourished by despair.

The tossing and the anguished pining,
The grinding teeth and starting eye;
The agony of still repining,
when not a spark of hope was shining
From gloomy fate's reletless sky.

The impatient rage, the useless shrinking
From thoughts that yet could not be borne;
The soul that was for ever thinking,
Till nature maddened, tortured, sinking,
At last refused to mourn.

It's over now--and I am free,
And the ocean wind is caressing me,
The wild wind from the wavy main
I never thought to see again.

Bless thee, bright Sea, and glorious dome,
And my own world, my spirit's home;
Bless thee, bless all--I cannot speak;
My voice is choked, but not with grief,
And salt drops from my haggard cheek
Descend like rain upon the heath.

How long they've wet a dungeon floor,
Falling on flagstones damp and grey:
I used to weep even in my sleep;
The night was dreadful like the day.

I used to weep when winter's snow
Whirled through the grating stormily;
But then it was a calmer woe,
For everything was drear to me.

The bitterest time, the worst of all,
Was that in which the summer sheen
Cast a green lustre on the wall
That told of fields of lovelier green.

often I've sat down on the ground,
Gazing up to the flush scarce seen,
Till, heedless of the darkness round,
My soul has sought a land serene.

It sought the arch of heaven divine,
The pure blue heaven with clouds of gold;
It sought thy father's home and mine
As I remembered it of old.

Oh, even now too horribly
Come back the feelings that would swell,
When with my face hid on my knee,
I strove the bursting groans to quell.

I flung myself upon the stone;
I howled, and tore my tangled hair;
And then, when the first gust had flown,
Lay in unspeakable despair.

Sometimes a curse, sometimes a prayer,
Would quiver on my parched tongue;
But both without a murmur there
Died in the breast from whence they sprung.

And so the day would fade on high,
And darkness quench that lonely beam,
And slumber mould my misery
Into some strange and spectral dream,
Whose phantom horrors made me know
The worst extent of human woe.

But this is past, and why return
O'er such a path to brood and mourn?
Shake off the fetters, break the chain,
And live and love and smile again.

The waste of youth, the waste of years,
Departed in that dungeon thrall;
The gnawing grief, the hopeless tears,
Forget them--oh, forget them all!

poem by Emily Brontë from The Complete Poems of Emily Brontë (1908)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Collection Of Short Poems

MEANINGLESS
I looked into my soul
And saw a great emptiness that enswallowed me.
It was strange and it was dark.
A darkness so vast I fall into it.
Terrified, my heart froze
As fear’s ice hands griped it.
Big dreams and ambitions cut short by the shortness of life
My life now a black deep ocean to drown in
For this is now my fate for mine had being a vain pursuit for self.

DREAMS

The dreams,
These dreams that I dream when I sleep in my sleep.
Are so scary so dark that I awake to only find
That am trapped in the dusty dream of dreaminglessness.

Am lost like a codeless soul flowing in space.
Like a fading painting I evaporate losing myself in the mystic shadows of life.

I don’t know me;
I don’t feel me,
Am I dreaming or is this real?

The dreams,
These dreams that I dream when I sleep in my sleep.
These dreams that I dream are when my eyes are closed yet open
Are not for the faint hearted,
The dreams.

MIRROR, MIRROR, MIRROR

Internal reflections of my soul
Looking deep where I have never being before
I stand mouth agap at the images I see below.

Distorted images,
I can’t see me.
Is the mirror broken or is it the state f my soul?

Mirror, mirror, mirror!
Is there any hope at all?
Tell me now for I fear that I have completely lost my way.
Mirror…?

poem by Tigana Chileshe
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