I am the dreamer
By. Dera Cymreiges
Slumber
is a strange world
where the weavers conspire,
exchange tall tales, preposterous
lies and inside straights; each thread is woven
into their looms, creating the
tapestries on which we
feed our muse in
slumber.
This is
the place where priests,
thieves and lovers gather
at the same trough; this is where large
black cats chase slo mo runners, where stones of
intent are thrown in jest, where a
perfect rose crumbles on
touch, shows off its
Uglies
Night
By. Teagan De Dannan
And the word created flesh
And the flesh created fear,
But the flesh could not fear itself
And so created fear of the night.
In the redness of the full moon
You waken and remember your fear
The creaking movements in the house
Then the cold, fearful sweats start again
Breathing hardens, eyes wide in fear.
Then the moon breaks through the clouds again
You see the creature stalking you.
The silver grey shining fur, inching closer.
The bloody red eyes and slavering mouth.
It leaps at you, feel the jaws bite.
Redness!!!!
Screaming you wake up in a cold sweat
Above your pounding heart, hear the sounds
(Gothic Arts and Poetry)
Trophy Queen
Sonnet XLIII
When most I wink, then do mine eyes best see,
For all the day they view things unrespected;
But when I sleep, in dreams they look on thee,
And darkly bright, are bright in dark directed.
Then thou, whose shadow shadows doth make bright,
How would thy shadow's form form happy show
To the clear day with thy much clearer light,
When to unseeing eyes thy shade shines so!
How would, I say, mine eyes be blessed made
By looking on thee in the living day,
When in dead night thy fair imperfect shade
Through heavy sleep on sightless eyes doth stay!
All days are nights to see till I see thee,
And nights bright days when dreams do show thee me.
