Just A Dream Slaying Dreams
'The lengths that I will go to'
'Oh no, I've said too much I set it up'
'Oh no, I've said too much I haven't said enough'
consider this
mask haunting artists
love paradoxes
more is less
proof pulling stories
slaying dreams
out of hatters hat
veil past present
social contexts
screen obvious
life slice subtle
juxtapositions
season lives
lit within
looking glass
eternal heart bleeds
written porous soul lines
weeps empty spaces
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Related quotes
To Speak Or Not To Speak?
social contexts
public blunders
entrapment potentials
contrast expectations
when I've said too much!
with I haven't said enough!
context carefully consider this?
explore image fixation artists
spaz set in spotlight comments...
love primary paradoxes
mystery more is less
pulling potent stories
picture portrait contrast
sitting lost in shadow corners
paparazzi media out of sight
genuine personality private
versus intense public spotlight
interior exterior dialogues...
speaker is actually famous
trendy celebrity performer face
caught pants down or on red carpet
paparazzi blitz frames in spotlight
is literal versus unknown in public
metaphor for unknown unseen out about
paparazzi nose tease pout delivers
six degrees of celebrity connections
paparazzi pride dissects best tidbits...
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Goodbye to the night...
Distant echos invade my thoughts
A constant memorial of eternal desolation
A thousand times I've wandered these dreams
Such a haunting reminder of past lives lived
The memory of your smile feeds my appetite
A pulse of delight with every memory of you
The whisper of a gentle breeze sings your name
A thousand lifetimes lived with your essence
Every dance with you etched into my being
Each dream a spark of light in eternal darkness
No warmth remains except the memory of you
Emptiness overwhelms with no tears left to cry
A lost and lonely soul doomed to eternal dreams
My conscience heavy with the burden of blame
Am I the one who squandered Nirvana away?
Once more my soul whispers goodbye to the night
Spread the love... The peace will follow...
poem by Cosmic Dreamer
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Love Me without My Mask
Love Me without My Mask
By: Adam M. Snow
Many years, I am who I'm not,
Life pass by yet myself I forgot,
Living life not as mine but mine.
Could you love me without my mask?
But it not be as divine.
The truth, myself I hid from you,
You know me not yet I know it's true.
I long for myself to fly and be free,
But I stand vivified and afraid,
The truth, haunting the very soul of me.
Love me without my mask is all I plead.
Not be the ghost but love I need.
I long for you to know the truth.
You deny my past, my future.
Cast me aside, I am uncouth.
poem by Adam M. Snow
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Implications Of Empty Spaces
some poems
use spaces
of implied emptiness
between the lines
during the reading emptiness
may tug at the subconscious
begging reason intellect rationalists
understanding
to comprehend
messages
in empty spaces
the mind heart soul turns
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Some Days
SOME DAYS I’M TOO TIRED TO BE INSPIRED
AND SOME DAYS I’M QUICK AS A WINK
WHEN I DON’T HAVE TO THINK.
THE THOUGHTS WILL FLOW LIKE WINE IN A GLASS
SHOWING THE PRESENT, FUTURE AND THE PAST.
IT IS NOT REALLY HARD TO DO
IF TO YOURSELF YOU BE TRUE.
LOOK AND LISTEN TO EVERY SIGHT AND SOUND
IT WILL PICK YOU UP AND PUT YOU DOWN.
TO ALL THE BEAUTIES THAT CAN BE FOUND.
PUTTING ALL YOUR THOUGHTS, FEELINGS
AND DREAMS ON PAPER
NOTHING CAN BE MUCH SAFER.
YOU TELL OF STORIES THAT THEY
NEVER HEARD OF, OR DARED TO DREAM
INTO A FEW LINES.
AND IN THEIR MINDS WILL LAST
FOR A VERY LONG TIME.
WHEN THOSE “ SOME DAYS “ COME TO YOU
AND YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO.
SIT AND WRITE JUST A FEW LINES
THEN YOU’LL SEE YOU HAVE THE TIME.
TIME TO ENJOY ALL THE BEAUTIES
THAT SURROUND YOUR LIFE
WITH FAMILY, FRIENDS, HUSBAND AND WIFE.
poem by Louis Rams
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Passion in the Garden
In the empty night
I hear your song.
Longing
I seek
but can only see
my own dying image
in lying glass
and glittering steel.
I tremble in fear.
Where have you gone?
O, sing me your soaring love-song
and show me the way
for night’s a thin wall
and death, a porous veil.
poem by Steven Federle
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Epitome of love
Genuine passion
is like an adventure
in the form of expression
narrating the stories of a soul
held captive in the realm of tender emotions
falling in love is a risky truth
that secretely completes the soul
and opens the pores
of joy in the heart
delight of mine
intense passion
center of my attention
you have furnished my soul
with the colour of love
your voice echoes in the empty spaces
of my soul and thus filling my heart with bliss
poem by Irenio Irenaeus Bero
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Restless
She embraced, with a smile
As she opened the door.
A cold wind blows, it puts a chill into
her heart.
You have taken away the trust,
you're the ghost haunting through her heart.
Past and present are one in her head,
you're the ghost haunting through her heart.
Take my hand as I wonder through,
All my life I gave to you.
Take my hand as I wonder through,
All my love I gave to you.
You have taken away the trust,
you're the ghost haunting through her heart.
Take my hand as I wonder through,
All my life I gave to you.
Take my hand as I wonder through,
All my love I gave to you.
song performed by by Within Temptation
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Restless
She embraced, with a smile
As she opened the door.
A cold wind blows, it puts a chill into
her heart.
You have taken away the trust,
you're the ghost haunting through her heart.
Past and present are one in her head,
you're the ghost haunting through her heart.
Take my hand as I wonder through,
All my life I gave to you.
Take my hand as I wonder through,
All my love I gave to you.
You have taken away the trust,
you're the ghost haunting through her heart.
Take my hand as I wonder through,
All my life I gave to you.
Take my hand as I wonder through,
All my love I gave to you.
song performed by by Within Temptation
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fruitless Love
What can I say
That I haven't said
A thousand times…..
Deep outburst of the heart
Which have left its traces behind…
The moon is the same moon
And so the sun and the stars…
Here I am, sitting down
In deep concentration,
Surrounded by memories
Of a lovely and truncated past...
Here I am,
Trying so hard to hold on
To the last thought of you…
Feelings are stronger than ever…
While dreaming of you
Every nights is inevitable…
Just in vain,
For those dreams
Never came true…
Here I am,
Walking thousand of miles
Of empty spaces,
Tired and melancholic,
Searching for your soul…
Searching for your love...
COPY WRITE©2009
poem by Romeo Della Valle
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My soul is lost...
At times my soul seems stripped of hope
Thought's of doubt strangle my mind like a rope
When the dreams of life seem they've been betrayed
Blown to pieces from an emotional grenade
Defenses breached it seems like the end
Yet my heart is strong and it shall mend
When all is lost and shattered into pieces
A new contract I write upon one of life's leases
So I shall walk around with my new happy face
A mask that can hide all of my past disgrace
If god truly lives why isn't he kinder
When all we see is his heavy handed minder
The pain and suffering we see from birth
Masks daily the beauty of our mother earth
When all seems empty and nothing is left
My soul is lost, forlorn, confused and bereft...
Spread the love... The peace will follow...
poem by Cosmic Dreamer
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In Memory...
No one told me the way I should feel
You left an aching heart
Lost and lonely, the feeling goes on
You were the one friend I had
You gave me so much love
Now the tears remind me youre gone
It still haunts me theres a silence
Where you used to be
It still haunts me
Just an empty space in history
It still haunts me
But life must go on, on and on
Its still haunting me
Its still haunting me
Haunting me
Haunting me
song performed by by Black Sabbath
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Multicultural Melbourne
Melbourne Immigration Museum
I stroll,
Past history,
Past lives,
Past stories.
I see for the first time MY nation’s history,
My nations courage,
My nations suffering,
My eyes glaze over
And realisation creeps up on me.
I see stories of the past and present,
Played out before me,
The lives of Australia’s people,
Australia’s history
poem by Katie Anne
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Cry for life
I cry for life, but no one can hear
The unending decent of my painful tears
Haunting screams shatter the blackness of night
While a breaking heart bleeds with no end in sight
Dark memories chase me through time
So I hide from the past
And get lost in my mind
With all love gone, and no light to see
My soul gets torn as it tries to flee,
From the fact that the end is near
Wondering aimlessly in despair
My cold heart turns black
As it forgets to care
Now all alone, within myself
To tired to try, my heart forgotten
It starts to die
With my hearts last beat
A tear slowly falls
As I cry for life
poem by Matt Mondschein
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The Insomniac Who Drew The Head Of A Sheep Wildly On A White Paper
the insomniac's heart is bleeding. she is in pain tonight like the other past night.
she thinks she is dying right on her own bed. changing positions. finding the right way to sleep. she could not find it. she is lost in the darkness of this loneliness. she goes naked towards the refrigerator to get a cold glass of water.
ice cubes. water rushing to the glass. clicking sound of glass and another glass.
coldness rushing to her esophagus. Coldness multiplying in her burning heart. her blankets burning. She could not sleep tonight. She gets a white paper, a pen and begings to scribble her life: wildly, some lines run. Shaping the head of a sheep. one. two. three. four. five. Five eyes. She stops. She needs five eyes to see everything. Awake. The ceiling where the lizards grow to become alligators on the plywood swamp. No grasses but cobwebs of sleepy spiders.
Five Jacks are hidden on the ears. On the ears are hairs of corn. Blonde. On the nose are paper clips. With them, she is cruel. Then she hides a bull inside her pharynx, the one that shits inside her mouth. She stinks. The bull makes a call for desire. For lust. She closes it with the prison wall of her teeth and gums and lips. Her lips are sealed now. All the five eyes are open throughout the night. Looking for love. Love is not found. Her heart bleeds. Stains of blood penetrate the white paper.
She had not slept for five nights. She will add another five eyes. She knows
if this happens again and again, she will die. She pretends that she is strong.
She will not forget these nights. Preludes to her death. She writes some hieroglyphics all over the empty spaces of the white paper. She will not forget
what each line and curve and sharp edges mean. She codes them. She writes the date 9.2.2008.
She does not put her name. It is enough that no one knows and remembers.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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While My Guitar Gently Weeps...
It's hard to tell how many regrets my heart keeps,
After the scars of my heart I see.
Eyes fall short of tears to cry,
While my guitar gently weeps...
When my present turns back and into the past it peeps,
Delightful memories flood in with a sweet pain.
All the anguish comes out through the strings,
While my guitar gently weeps...
As the nostalgia
on my broken heart creeps,
I curse myself for my blunders.
Nobody can ever hear my heart sob,
While my guitar gently weeps...
It is so unfair that the whole world peacefully sleeps,
And has faithful people to care.
But I have nobody to console me,
While my guitar gently weeps...
-SUJAY.S.P
poem by Sujay Patekar
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Washed Away Under Work Loads
artists feel frustrated
when achieving not
when producing art not
not realizing images
in shifting vision mind
artists should
be producing art
no time for cooking
no time for cleaning
no time for hair cut
artists should not
not be able to keep up
with fermenting ideas
rain weather changes
haunting wake up calls
not creating art
is wasting artistic souls
is wasting artistic lives
in dry season droughts
withering artistic minds
work income human activities
life necessity farming for wages
dependent on salary climates
fifty sixty wage slave hours
is change devastating for artists
this drought no time for artistic activities
is crop failure starvation of artistic minds
leading to artistic suffering on massive scales
droughts are caused by lack of fertility rains
extended over long periods of wage slave times
slight brief rains slight artistic showers
is normality artistic not enough spring rains
to ground absorb artistic evaporated minds
artist is dehydrated lacking soul rejuvenations
plants animals need sustaining life waters
artists need self generated creativity waters
least art dies death of artistic dehydrations
art is main ingredient in artistic food chains
plants die from lack of water therefore animals
eating these plants will also die in drought cycles
artists true artists deprived of art wither drought dies
in mind soul lacking artistic flowering rejuvenations
without art creativity cycle fades away dies out expires
artists hail festivals sing dance to music in craft minds
artist restoring balance in self social harmony in societies?
artists feel frustrated
when not
producing art
not realizing images
in vision mind
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Amarelinha
Draw a pattern of
Rectangles
On the ground
And I will throw
A stone
Inside one of
The spaces
Then I hop
And hop
Avoiding this
Line and that
To retrieve
What stone I
Have thrown
In my life
Let us talk
About my life
Seriously
Now, I jump
From past
To present
To present
And past
And future in
A very confusing
Manner
And then
Time, this time
Line does not
Exist anymore
My life is that
Stone and you
Are one of those
Spaces
That rectangle
I jump in
And then we stop
This hopscotch
It is dark and we
Have to stop playing
We must go home
Now
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Empty Spaces
Once there were times love
When we could touch the air between
And out acroos this room
Wed just touch hands life would shine
With electric dreams.
No matter how many miles
Nothing hurt long-distance-hearts
And there was always something there
That space could never keep apart
But now I know inside that something is died
When were apart
All we have are
Empty spaces.
Its not like were building walls
Too hard to climb to make us blind
Its just so much numbing space
To hollow out the heart and mind
And I can hear echoes of ghosts of love
We left behind.
Ill always love april
We fell in love and we planted seeds
But now we walk through fallen trees
And leaves are crushed beneath
And I will always live in autumn
Now were agreed
All we have are
Empty spaces.
Ithought this was meant to be
Our love had an energy
But only as time evolved
And all of our strength dissolved
And well never feel the flame that burned so naked
Again.
I walk through kentish town
And all the rain rain pouring down
So many people here
But space like this Ive never found
And as I get back home and step inside
I realise all I have
All I have are
Empty spaces.
song performed by by Spandau Ballet
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Just Bleeds
Dreams which were dreamed
Will never ever be true
Broken, so broken I am
Her love and care is not mine anymore
Really, she has flown away from my grip.
It is impossible to trace her
Nothing is known about her
Even if I try to reach up to her shadow
Still, I will never get anything in return
Only refusal I will get
It hurts, since dreams have been broken
Nothing is known, my heart cries
Now my soul bleeds, just bleeds.
poem by Rohit Sapra
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