Poetry competition CLOSED 22nd April 2023 9:32pm
WINNER
LunaGreyhawk
LunaGreyhawk
RUNNERS-UP:
EleazarSwan
and PAR
Reverie Rhymes
Poetry Contest Description
Write a poem that celebrates dreams - any kind, literal or metaphorical. Use imagination to evoke emotions, explore beauty and mystery of dreams, and their power to inspire and shape us. Express yourself creatively and share your thoughts on dreams.
The theme of this poetry competition is dreams. Participants are asked to write a poem that celebrates their own or any dream that inspires them. Participants can interpret this theme in any way they like. They can choose to write about any dream - whether it's a literal dream they had while sleeping or a metaphorical one that represents their aspirations, hopes, or goals.
Participants can use their imagination to create vivid imagery and evoke emotions through their poems. They can explore the beauty and mystery of dreams, the power of dreams to inspire and motivate us, and how dreams can shape our lives.
Ultimately, this poetry competition is an opportunity for participants to express themselves creatively and to share their thoughts and feelings about dreams through the medium of poetry.
Participants can use their imagination to create vivid imagery and evoke emotions through their poems. They can explore the beauty and mystery of dreams, the power of dreams to inspire and motivate us, and how dreams can shape our lives.
Ultimately, this poetry competition is an opportunity for participants to express themselves creatively and to share their thoughts and feelings about dreams through the medium of poetry.
Dreaming My Trusted Steed.
I crunch crunch crunch through desert sand
or explored wild exotic shores,
skipped up Gran's drive, hand in hand,
conjuring roars of Great Dinosaurs
in Gran's garden to her door
which I magic'd to a Castle's Keep,
or teepee for us red-injun squaws
and my mind, was, my trusted steed.
I flew with Blčriot from France
shared Orville's delight as he soared
up, up, from Kitty Hawk, Oh, grand
this, long before I'd heard or saw
an aeroplane just book-read lore
informed my imaginative needs
those childhood days I still explore,
and my mind, still, my trusty steed.
I fly now, to alien lands,
as hitchhiker on Rocket Roars,
and hope to see these space ships manned
as of yore, when birch craft were oared
by scouts through virgin lands, such awe,
those stone-age man feeding their needs
as I go with these space-age scouts, more,
I go on my mind's trusted steed.
I shall mine small nuggets of ore
to gather words of which I need,
throughout the world's bountiful store
traveling on my mind's, trusted steed.
or explored wild exotic shores,
skipped up Gran's drive, hand in hand,
conjuring roars of Great Dinosaurs
in Gran's garden to her door
which I magic'd to a Castle's Keep,
or teepee for us red-injun squaws
and my mind, was, my trusted steed.
I flew with Blčriot from France
shared Orville's delight as he soared
up, up, from Kitty Hawk, Oh, grand
this, long before I'd heard or saw
an aeroplane just book-read lore
informed my imaginative needs
those childhood days I still explore,
and my mind, still, my trusty steed.
I fly now, to alien lands,
as hitchhiker on Rocket Roars,
and hope to see these space ships manned
as of yore, when birch craft were oared
by scouts through virgin lands, such awe,
those stone-age man feeding their needs
as I go with these space-age scouts, more,
I go on my mind's trusted steed.
I shall mine small nuggets of ore
to gather words of which I need,
throughout the world's bountiful store
traveling on my mind's, trusted steed.
Written by Rew
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Horns
I dreamed of Pan's horns
I don't know if it's a fallacy
or if it can turn out to be phallic
but horns, Morpheus, horns?
Yes, Dr. Freud, I dreamed of horns!
I don't know what your interpretation is
but mine is very clear:
Sinful thoughts or actions
of a sleeping person.
A colorful character who acquires
a human form out of guilt
of their own folly and secret vices.
A horn in a dream symbolizes seduction,
sensuality and strong need
of an excellent erotic relationship.
Horns in a dream position
a manifestation of strength,
activity and determination.
If I told the dream
to my Babuska she would say,
as she always said,
that dreaming is sleeping,
sleep, my puppy, sleep!
I told you that person was not good for you!
Yes, Dr. Babuska, I dreamed of horns!
PAR
I don't know if it's a fallacy
or if it can turn out to be phallic
but horns, Morpheus, horns?
Yes, Dr. Freud, I dreamed of horns!
I don't know what your interpretation is
but mine is very clear:
Sinful thoughts or actions
of a sleeping person.
A colorful character who acquires
a human form out of guilt
of their own folly and secret vices.
A horn in a dream symbolizes seduction,
sensuality and strong need
of an excellent erotic relationship.
Horns in a dream position
a manifestation of strength,
activity and determination.
If I told the dream
to my Babuska she would say,
as she always said,
that dreaming is sleeping,
sleep, my puppy, sleep!
I told you that person was not good for you!
Yes, Dr. Babuska, I dreamed of horns!
PAR
Written by PAR
(PAULO ACACIO RAMOS)
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DIRTY DREAMS
yesterday while sleeping tight, i had a dream in night,,
that a sweet princess will bloom and join me, to boom,,
the story goes this wise, a full moon on a river resides,,
All dicks were gathered there, all lusting pussies in a fair,,
but the princess came in gloomy light & choose my dick for a love fight,,
perhaps it was my mighty brave, long & big in dicks' race,,
i caressed her as i pound, thrusting her pussy in big rounds,,
while she moaned my devil listened, made her pussy red hard beaten,,
fucking hard while erotic talks, impelled her pussy rise all the marks,,
phuuch.. phuuch .. sounds create, king and queen were busy in rave,,
then i came between her thighs, pampered her messed juicy site,,
and she thanked with intoxicated eyes , kissing my goober all night...
that a sweet princess will bloom and join me, to boom,,
the story goes this wise, a full moon on a river resides,,
All dicks were gathered there, all lusting pussies in a fair,,
but the princess came in gloomy light & choose my dick for a love fight,,
perhaps it was my mighty brave, long & big in dicks' race,,
i caressed her as i pound, thrusting her pussy in big rounds,,
while she moaned my devil listened, made her pussy red hard beaten,,
fucking hard while erotic talks, impelled her pussy rise all the marks,,
phuuch.. phuuch .. sounds create, king and queen were busy in rave,,
then i came between her thighs, pampered her messed juicy site,,
and she thanked with intoxicated eyes , kissing my goober all night...
Written by magichearts
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Notes from a cold dark room
On my stomach I l lie
shivering from a cold
on the wall a painting of light
a work from a distant celestial past
Through the painting, the outside blows in
and on the window cill an empty bottle awaits
when the curtain hits glass
a ringing noise fills the room
at the end of day
this steady pulse
will cradle me away
to sounds of a present room
I merge with the sheets
arms and legs turn to chunks of meat
a wall is painted over
and the hook in my cheek
reminds me of the coming morning
that I rotate slowly
upwards
towards
shivering from a cold
on the wall a painting of light
a work from a distant celestial past
Through the painting, the outside blows in
and on the window cill an empty bottle awaits
when the curtain hits glass
a ringing noise fills the room
at the end of day
this steady pulse
will cradle me away
to sounds of a present room
I merge with the sheets
arms and legs turn to chunks of meat
a wall is painted over
and the hook in my cheek
reminds me of the coming morning
that I rotate slowly
upwards
towards
Written by luddep
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Dawn’s Homecoming
Adrift in the kettle
of
sultry contemplation
Mired in the mystical musings
of a mind
upswept in a reverie
Silent impulse
churning into matter
Equivocal and nurturing
Acquiesce
to the twilight
of tempered awakening
Fantasy perforating deep-rooted awareness
Visions thieved from spirits blooming
Spreading aromatics of fallacious intrusion
Context
simmering in the while
Starlit and quivering
on the edge of reason
A mind
pining for structure
in a lattice
of chance-medley
A havoc of raw emotion
gnarled into an ocean of feathers
Ebb and flow
Flitting from wisdom
to the reaches of disarray
The ridges of the feathers
colliding
chattering a melody
into the milieu
The clouds
waxen and polished
amidst a patchwork sky
stitched of blue
Electric illusion
Dreamy persuasion
Until dawn’s homecoming
of
sultry contemplation
Mired in the mystical musings
of a mind
upswept in a reverie
Silent impulse
churning into matter
Equivocal and nurturing
Acquiesce
to the twilight
of tempered awakening
Fantasy perforating deep-rooted awareness
Visions thieved from spirits blooming
Spreading aromatics of fallacious intrusion
Context
simmering in the while
Starlit and quivering
on the edge of reason
A mind
pining for structure
in a lattice
of chance-medley
A havoc of raw emotion
gnarled into an ocean of feathers
Ebb and flow
Flitting from wisdom
to the reaches of disarray
The ridges of the feathers
colliding
chattering a melody
into the milieu
The clouds
waxen and polished
amidst a patchwork sky
stitched of blue
Electric illusion
Dreamy persuasion
Until dawn’s homecoming
Written by Everavalon
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An Oracle
"For they have not rejected thee but they have rejected Me"
-------------------------------------------------
O nation, hear! and witness Earth,
A worth far more than gold of old:
A merchant sold his finest wares
To those afar, across the sea
Where none are blind and all can see
The delicacy of thy tares;
See! O country bathed in arms
Alarms from all thy corners, bare:
A sword is promised from afar
A truth, a truth and not a dare!
See! The powerless wield their weapons,
The powerful shriek in pain;
Thy gold and thy silver corroded,
Thy splendor delivered in vain
A child is promised, o nation!
A child of pain to endure
A child of death, and devastation
Shall never escape thy shore
REPENT, o my nation of anguish
REPENT and put sackcloth and ashes
REPENT and let God be the witness
REPENT and be free of thy lashes
REPENT, o nation, why wont you repent?
Why do you test the Almighty?
-------------------------------------------------
O nation, hear! and witness Earth,
A worth far more than gold of old:
A merchant sold his finest wares
To those afar, across the sea
Where none are blind and all can see
The delicacy of thy tares;
See! O country bathed in arms
Alarms from all thy corners, bare:
A sword is promised from afar
A truth, a truth and not a dare!
See! The powerless wield their weapons,
The powerful shriek in pain;
Thy gold and thy silver corroded,
Thy splendor delivered in vain
A child is promised, o nation!
A child of pain to endure
A child of death, and devastation
Shall never escape thy shore
REPENT, o my nation of anguish
REPENT and put sackcloth and ashes
REPENT and let God be the witness
REPENT and be free of thy lashes
REPENT, o nation, why wont you repent?
Why do you test the Almighty?
Written by EleazarSwan
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Of Recent Events
A man I knew relayed some noise
And through his solemn equipoise
Drowned out sorrow as he began
To tell the world "THEY ALWAYS CAN"
He raged and railed from end to end
Of hedges just around the bend
Of Barclay, Morgan, and the like
As hatred fumed from all his might
He cursed the dollars he had scorned
And prayed the hedge was never born
And further still, the man that milled
And toiled hard, his hardness killed..
For in his heart a void from birth
Delayed what he had counted worth
He filled that void will coins and bill
And in their bitterness did kill
That subtle boy who loved in lack
Whose innocence would ne'er come back
And through his solemn equipoise
Drowned out sorrow as he began
To tell the world "THEY ALWAYS CAN"
He raged and railed from end to end
Of hedges just around the bend
Of Barclay, Morgan, and the like
As hatred fumed from all his might
He cursed the dollars he had scorned
And prayed the hedge was never born
And further still, the man that milled
And toiled hard, his hardness killed..
For in his heart a void from birth
Delayed what he had counted worth
He filled that void will coins and bill
And in their bitterness did kill
That subtle boy who loved in lack
Whose innocence would ne'er come back
Written by EleazarSwan
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Crown Plumage
I dreamt an owl landed on my head
before I awoke and wondered why
fowl so mighty would thereby tread
when it might command an entire sky?
Has it fancied me as a totemist?
So brief was the dream, and its midnight touch;
strange talons with which I must coexist
as now my psyche is within its clutch!
What is the purpose of this spirit bird
past being a bird that I cannot flip?
Has it trounced my last discouraging word
or just my scalp as a landing strip...
where both of us might rest for a bit
to clean our quills and hone our wit?
before I awoke and wondered why
fowl so mighty would thereby tread
when it might command an entire sky?
Has it fancied me as a totemist?
So brief was the dream, and its midnight touch;
strange talons with which I must coexist
as now my psyche is within its clutch!
What is the purpose of this spirit bird
past being a bird that I cannot flip?
Has it trounced my last discouraging word
or just my scalp as a landing strip...
where both of us might rest for a bit
to clean our quills and hone our wit?
Written by MidnightSonneteer
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I had a dream
I had a dream
Ok, no no no, not a dream
A nightmare
I was not stuck in some prison way out in the desert
In my imaginary Foreign Legion days
Or trying to get out of the sewer
I was not in the hands of aliens
Forced to look at all the superbly delicious appetizing goodies
Created by that five-stars French pastry chef
I was not in some Renaissance type bordello
In the company of high members of the clergy
And surrounded by gorgeous and scandily clad courtisanes
Yet prohibited from taking part in the action
No no and no
I woke up in sweats
I dreamed that after a magic week of vacation in the sun
I was already late, had to rush around
Looking for the right clothes and all
And get back to my place of work
And that suffocating job.
Ok, no no no, not a dream
A nightmare
I was not stuck in some prison way out in the desert
In my imaginary Foreign Legion days
Or trying to get out of the sewer
I was not in the hands of aliens
Forced to look at all the superbly delicious appetizing goodies
Created by that five-stars French pastry chef
I was not in some Renaissance type bordello
In the company of high members of the clergy
And surrounded by gorgeous and scandily clad courtisanes
Yet prohibited from taking part in the action
No no and no
I woke up in sweats
I dreamed that after a magic week of vacation in the sun
I was already late, had to rush around
Looking for the right clothes and all
And get back to my place of work
And that suffocating job.
Written by robert43041
(Viking)
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Related submission no longer exists.
Dream Girl
we don’t have long
come sit with me
she says, under the full moon’s light;
I’ve missed you since last I was here
and although it pulls his heartstrings
too near the breaking point,
he obliges her, once again,
willing his eyes to absorb
every detail of her -
to commit them to memory
before the sun comes to steal
her away
we don’t have long
come, sit with me
she says, beneath the canopy of night;
we’ll have this moment, eternal
before we become
a memory made for just the two of us -
one we can carry for weight
on days we feel empty
with a kiss, she was gone
come sit with me
she says, under the full moon’s light;
I’ve missed you since last I was here
and although it pulls his heartstrings
too near the breaking point,
he obliges her, once again,
willing his eyes to absorb
every detail of her -
to commit them to memory
before the sun comes to steal
her away
we don’t have long
come, sit with me
she says, beneath the canopy of night;
we’ll have this moment, eternal
before we become
a memory made for just the two of us -
one we can carry for weight
on days we feel empty
with a kiss, she was gone
Written by LunaGreyhawk
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A Dream of Illumination
}}}~ A Dream of Illumination ~{{{
A Parable in the Form of a Dream
Part One: The Road Less Traveled
I dreamed this strange dream recently. It went like this: I was walking along this old road, silently contemplating all manner of deep things. As I went along, I saw that the road was tree-lined with great pines and mighty oaks. It seemed familiar to me, as if I had been there before long, long ago but had forgotten about the place until now. The road branched at one point and in the distance along it I saw a great city that I knew was a holy and sacred place. I could not bring myself to walk towards it, so I continued upon my way towards a deeper and deeper trail that ran into the nearby woodlands, which soon turned into a deep forest. Only the trail I was walking on made any headway through what was otherwise a rather dense area, thick with underbrush and fallen branches from the lofty trees all about. I looked up at the sky through the trees, and I saw it was midday, but that the sky itself was clouding over and darkening the land. In time, a great mist of white vapors rolled in from the deepest part of the forest, which lay to the southeast. Soon, I was hopelessly lost… for when the mist closed in, the trail vanished from sight. Everything did, and the world became white and cloudy, like some purgatory reserved for lost souls. There was nothing before me, or anything all around me. All I could hope to do was walk onwards, and hope for some sign of the world I had left behind. My steps became hurried, and I began to panic. My heart was racing! The mists soon retreated, but what had been revealed before me could not have been the same woods where I had been walking. Rather, it was a dark and frightening place. A forest, yes, but one with trees as massive as the spires of a cathedral! Trees with branches twisted like unto claws, which reached out as if to ensnare trespassers. It was a primal place with giant toadstools, thick and leafy plants, and also no sign of the sky no matter how far above my head I strained to look. I was too deep within these natural confines to ever go back, and before me there were trails going off in every direction. Whichever one had borne me hither I could never be assured to know! And so I picked one of the countless directions at random and began to walk down the chosen path. Though this place was dark and somewhat sinister, I felt a strange comfort… for I knew there was a reason I had been brought here. A nameless destiny, which I could not fathom at that moment! The perils of wild places of this magnitude are well known, and to have strayed so far from civilization was strange. Even so… where was the danger that my mind should have perceived? Cities are far more dangerous, I thought to myself, with their thieves and corruption. I remembered my faith had not been what it should have, and that this was some test to find me either worthy or wanting. But who would be my judge out here? I heard the cry of strange birds with savage cries, and I heard the distant baying of wolves. Yet I saw neither birds nor beasts themselves. They may as well have been ghosts trying to commune with the living from their graves, for all I could tell. I was on a pilgrimage of sorts, to purify my soul and find some reason in what I thought to be a mad and chaotic creation. This was what I kept telling myself, but it sounded like a lie. What was I really seeking?
Part Two: The Princess of The Forest
There was comfort indeed in the primeval forest through which I journeyed. Every once in a while, I glimpsed a canopy of green leaves high, high above… and golden shafts of sunlight would occasionally pierce the darkness of that unknown realm. There was a spirit to it all, a guiding force I could almost reach and out and touch with my thoughts. It was a connection to divinity quite unlike anything one might find in a church or temple of any kind. I imagined God somehow dwelling amongst the trees, and that the peace I sensed was of blessed design. Did angels walk unseen in the shadows just past my vision? Where was the fear of the unknown that most would have in my position! It was not within me. Then, it hit me as if with a delayed reaction… I was amidst some enchantment, but still lost nonetheless. And that, in and of itself: was dangerous! My thoughts had begun that nervous descent, when I spied a child walking towards me out of the shadows on the horizon of the woodland trail I tread. She was a young girl in those years just before her teens, on the cusp of becoming a proper maiden. Her clothing told me she was of some noble or wealthy background, and her bearing was somewhat mature for her age. Who could she be, I mused, and what bizarre turnings of chance brought her to cross my path in such a place as this? She was adorned further with jewelry and makeup, and seemed like a child princess. Yet, as soon as she caught sight of me, she acted more childlike and began to skip along the rough path towards where I stood watching, wondering. She started to laugh, to sing, and to speak with imaginary things that were not there. Was she truly that innocent, or was she mad? It was not unreasonable for children who suffer some darker turn of fortune in life, be it from loss or from some unfathomable hurt, to retreat into the realm of imagination or fancy to escape their innermost torments. Something had driven here out here, into the wildest parts of the land… and I could not imagine what. I should have called out to her, greeted her, or at least asked how she was doing. But I did not! I felt frozen, unable to move even my lips to form a word. Had I the ability to do so, what words would even be appropriate for such a circumstance as this? I had to think, had to reason and break out of the strange reverie that held me spellbound. Then, my compassion for the little girl overcame whatever had put me under that glamour, and I spoke to her at last. “My dear child,” I began, “It would seem that I have lost my way in these woods, and that you yourself may well have also. Even so, mayhap you know this place better than I… and so, could you be so kind as to tell me if yonder path leads out from here? Further, if you are: in fact, troubled at being so far from your own home, for whatever the reason, then gladly would I render aid unto you if possible. What say you?” and she answered in a perhaps playful tone of voice, saying: “Surely you jest with me, for I am not troubled at all! This is my home, and it would be strange indeed if I knew not the ways of my own dwelling-place.” Then she laughed and giggled, and I saw the sparkle of mirth in her eyes that told me she was not mad after all, but merely innocent enough to believe whatever fantasy she had concocted about this being her home. She continued, as if needing to clarify her words further: “My home is many places, and so this one will do as much as any, will it not?” I nodded in agreement, for I felt like the stranger here, and she added: “If you seek to find your way, then I can direct you aright. Follow me closely, sir!”
Part Three: My True Name, Spoken
I walked behind her until we came a good distance from where we met, and she rushed back to me and put my hand in her own, insisting that I maintain our clasp and not stray from one another’s company, no matter what. We walked thus, hand in hand, and as we took a leisurely pace she asked me what I did not tell her my name. I tried to think of it, but my name would not come to my mind… instead, many names from many times past came bubbling up from the recesses of my soul. “I cannot tell it to you. It is… too much to tell.” I explained. The child then said rather serenely to me: “That is alright, for I already know who you are. You know me as well, but not in this guise.” And I looked long and hard at her, trying to force the memory of her to come to the fore. Her hair was golden, and worn in long, graceful curls that cascaded down to frame a lovely oval face. The style of her hair had bangs, at the forehead, and she wore a crimson ribbon with a single red rose attached to it, to hold back her precious locks. Her ruby lips and pale green eyes held me spellbound. It was her eyes that seemed most familiar to me of all… and something had captivated me when I gazed into them. Her skin was pink and smooth, and she looked very much like a doll. Yet, she was a living and breathing girl with a real heart and soul. A familiar one, even if I could not immediately place it! As I studied the child, she ceased to walk and looked back at me, returning the stare I had held her in prior. She was searching for something… but what? It was something within me, some spark of what she remembered of me from long ago. She smiled broadly, seeming to find what she sought. Then, the wind howled and a chill breeze blew hard through the trees all about us. The scant sunlight vanished, and I suspect it was night at last, for I heard the light chirping of crickets and the call of those night-birds which haunt such climes as these. The woods grew dark, so very dark, and I was happy to be holding the child’s hand after all. We walked for a distance that was impossible to guess at, and I saw some distant illumination from fireflies. Suddenly, there was a soft glow that radiated forth from the little girl herself! The light was of her very spirit, and she glowed with it beautifully. “Tell me now…” she whispered to me in a sad and gentle tone: “Tell me what name you will give unto God, when He asks you for it in the hour when you must stand before Him. You have so many, but do you know which one God would recognize you by the most? Say not that He is God and therefore He will know, for that is not the point, nor the purpose behind my asking!” I then searched my soul for the answer, and I spoke the most ancient of all my names. It left a terrible sensation within me, and I wished I had not uttered it aloud. The little girl seemed pleased, and then stated: “Do not deny what it is that you are… and whom it is that you are… for were you told that doing so is humility? It is a false humility to deny oneself! God never commanded you to discard your very soul. Why choose to do so, then? It is man, who would have you believe you are less than the totality of your true self. You cannot vanquish the past by denying it. Doing so will only vanquish you, for there is strength in truth. Embrace the truth, and gain strength.” I then stared dumbfounded into those sparkling green eyes of the radiant child’s, and I slowly said: “I revealed unto you, what I would have told only the most high. Our souls are linked together, but something feels wrong about all of this… for you have yet to reveal your own name to me!”
Part Four: The Light in The Forest
The unearthly child’s face then seemed to be of some heavenly countenance, and her manner became imperious. I became afraid, and said unto her: “I know not even what you are, nor if you be an angel, a goddess, or some errant spirit. What if you prove to be a devil or demon taking on the disguise of one so blessedly fair? Surely I was then unwise to grant you power over me by revealing what only God should be told. I regret my weakness, and I pray God will show mercy upon me for it!” I let go of her hand, and I started to walk away from her. I started back down that long path by which we had come, and I did not look back. Suddenly, I felt her hand in mine and she was simply there beside me once again. As if I had never been apart from her at all. “Your fear…” she began to state, “Your fear, is what spoke to me just now. It is also what drove you to abandon your own self-knowledge and hide in the present era… when you are beyond such things. None may change or alter the past, for it is the canvas of history itself. And the future is unknown. Consider this well: in coming here, to me, are you lost or are you found? Say not that it was I who came to you, for I was here ere ever you set out upon the paths that brought you hither. Those mists were created by your own fears, and just as they parted the closer you came to me… so too can those same fears be banished by simple trust. Trust in me, and you shall be saved!” I gave in at last, for I saw only wisdom in her words and no trace of deception after all. “Very well, sweet child… I place my trust in you. Lead me from fear and from being lost. Show me the way!” And then it happened. The glow of the girl became so bright, that she outshone even the stars of a midnight sky. The moon dimmed before it, and the sun would have been rivaled by it. I averted my eyes, bowed my head to the earth itself, and my hand in hers tingled with warmth and power. A light filled the forest, which was not of the mortal world, and in the sky there was but one single star that held a similar appearance to that glow. I beheld all that had been hidden from view before, and I spied things in the forest that were spirits, angels, and things that had no names at all. Here was the aura of a truly divine being, and when the angelic little girl next spoke her voice had become that of an adult woman… a voice that was at once peaceful and commanding. She transformed as she opened her mouth thusly, and what she became was something androgynous and more beautiful than anything of mere mortal feminine beauty. I felt pure love, compassion, and understanding from her… from it… and I smelled the distinct scent of roses. “In trusting me, you have allowed yourself to see me as I truly am, not just as I would deign to appear!” and when she said that unto me, I knew that I had only been deceiving myself. She was right all along, and in accepting myself, and her, I was brought closer to God. She continued to speak, saying: “I said that I would direct you aright, and so I shall show you a path. It is not the same as the one you walked before coming here, but it is the road you shall travel for all your days henceforth. You began on it when first you could not bring yourself to approach that city, and when you rejected the hypocritical holiness of established faith. Worship with me here, then, for these trees are the true columns of God’s house. This place is my temple to the most high, wherein I myself was revered of old. Whereas before I could not look upon her, I now could not look away from the angel who spoke unto me. The light was no longer blinding.
Part Five: An Angelic Ascension
I learned her true name, just as she had learned mine. We had both known one another all along, and this mystery I must keep. Her star glowed on high, just as she glowed here below. “I am your teacher, your illuminator.” She explained. “Now you bear those titles, for the wisdom I have bequeathed unto you, you shall share with others who lack the light.” I was then baptized in her radiance, brought within that nimbus of light and purity. “I was wrong about you.” I told her, “You are no devil or demon of any kind.” It was then that she oddly chose to correct me. “I am those things, as well as all the blessed things you could ever love. Such is the nature of life, that all things that exist have this dual nature of darkness and light. Think not that, because you see my light, that I have no darkness within me.” And having seen into my own innermost dark side, I knew she spoke truly when she said that. I was taken by her: to a stone circle like unto Stonehenge, and there she gave into my charge a simple wood wand topped with an emerald… and she also gave me a circlet which was Egyptian in design. I donned the circlet and took up the wand, whilst around my neck was an amulet in the shape of a serpent swallowing its’ own tail. The angel then spoke unto me, saying: “Here is where, on the morning, you shall be delivered back to your waking life once again. Until then, attend me and conduct the rites that I instruct you to perform. I am Glory, I am Love, and I am Light. Be not afraid, for we are kindred in every way.” And I was not afraid. The illuminated night seemed to lose any terrors it might have possessed before, and the old stones seemed to pulse and breathe with a life of their own. Chanting came from the stones, and I saw the shades of others who had worshipped there since time immemorial. I heard many of my old names spoken, and I knew that once upon a time men mistook me for a god. I laid the emerald wand down upon the altar stone at the center of the circle, and in a single instant I could recall much that had been lost to me previously. Illumination, it is called, when one awakens from the slumbers of their own ignorance. Ere the coming of the morning, I had indeed been freed from the bondage that comes from a lock of knowledge. The angel took me into her arms, and I became much like unto her in appearance. Androgynous and beautiful, beyond human conceptions of such notions! And twin angels flew to the heavens, where the planets and stars are, and we flew to places that of old were special to us. I came unto the holy world whose name was known to prophets of a certain era, and I saw the ruins that dotted its’ surface. Then, we journeyed to Mars, and there I saw only desolation for as far as the eye could see. I saw traces of the past, but they were hidden well. At length, we returned to Earth and were drawn once more to the circle of stones where our celestial ascension had begun. The angel and I were locked in a tender embrace, our lips kissing and our hands caressing one another. Slowly, time passed and she reverted to her former childlike form, even as I became just as human once more as I typically am in everyday life. Morning was dawning, and the morning star was brighter than ever. It had been her star, and I felt its’ power being sent forth across the sea of stars. Soon I would awaken from this dream that was something more than just a simple dream, and the mundane task of daily living would begin anew. But I remembered that I had been instructed to pass on to others what had been passed on to me. This story I have now shared, is how I chose to honor this.
A Parable in the Form of a Dream
Part One: The Road Less Traveled
I dreamed this strange dream recently. It went like this: I was walking along this old road, silently contemplating all manner of deep things. As I went along, I saw that the road was tree-lined with great pines and mighty oaks. It seemed familiar to me, as if I had been there before long, long ago but had forgotten about the place until now. The road branched at one point and in the distance along it I saw a great city that I knew was a holy and sacred place. I could not bring myself to walk towards it, so I continued upon my way towards a deeper and deeper trail that ran into the nearby woodlands, which soon turned into a deep forest. Only the trail I was walking on made any headway through what was otherwise a rather dense area, thick with underbrush and fallen branches from the lofty trees all about. I looked up at the sky through the trees, and I saw it was midday, but that the sky itself was clouding over and darkening the land. In time, a great mist of white vapors rolled in from the deepest part of the forest, which lay to the southeast. Soon, I was hopelessly lost… for when the mist closed in, the trail vanished from sight. Everything did, and the world became white and cloudy, like some purgatory reserved for lost souls. There was nothing before me, or anything all around me. All I could hope to do was walk onwards, and hope for some sign of the world I had left behind. My steps became hurried, and I began to panic. My heart was racing! The mists soon retreated, but what had been revealed before me could not have been the same woods where I had been walking. Rather, it was a dark and frightening place. A forest, yes, but one with trees as massive as the spires of a cathedral! Trees with branches twisted like unto claws, which reached out as if to ensnare trespassers. It was a primal place with giant toadstools, thick and leafy plants, and also no sign of the sky no matter how far above my head I strained to look. I was too deep within these natural confines to ever go back, and before me there were trails going off in every direction. Whichever one had borne me hither I could never be assured to know! And so I picked one of the countless directions at random and began to walk down the chosen path. Though this place was dark and somewhat sinister, I felt a strange comfort… for I knew there was a reason I had been brought here. A nameless destiny, which I could not fathom at that moment! The perils of wild places of this magnitude are well known, and to have strayed so far from civilization was strange. Even so… where was the danger that my mind should have perceived? Cities are far more dangerous, I thought to myself, with their thieves and corruption. I remembered my faith had not been what it should have, and that this was some test to find me either worthy or wanting. But who would be my judge out here? I heard the cry of strange birds with savage cries, and I heard the distant baying of wolves. Yet I saw neither birds nor beasts themselves. They may as well have been ghosts trying to commune with the living from their graves, for all I could tell. I was on a pilgrimage of sorts, to purify my soul and find some reason in what I thought to be a mad and chaotic creation. This was what I kept telling myself, but it sounded like a lie. What was I really seeking?
Part Two: The Princess of The Forest
There was comfort indeed in the primeval forest through which I journeyed. Every once in a while, I glimpsed a canopy of green leaves high, high above… and golden shafts of sunlight would occasionally pierce the darkness of that unknown realm. There was a spirit to it all, a guiding force I could almost reach and out and touch with my thoughts. It was a connection to divinity quite unlike anything one might find in a church or temple of any kind. I imagined God somehow dwelling amongst the trees, and that the peace I sensed was of blessed design. Did angels walk unseen in the shadows just past my vision? Where was the fear of the unknown that most would have in my position! It was not within me. Then, it hit me as if with a delayed reaction… I was amidst some enchantment, but still lost nonetheless. And that, in and of itself: was dangerous! My thoughts had begun that nervous descent, when I spied a child walking towards me out of the shadows on the horizon of the woodland trail I tread. She was a young girl in those years just before her teens, on the cusp of becoming a proper maiden. Her clothing told me she was of some noble or wealthy background, and her bearing was somewhat mature for her age. Who could she be, I mused, and what bizarre turnings of chance brought her to cross my path in such a place as this? She was adorned further with jewelry and makeup, and seemed like a child princess. Yet, as soon as she caught sight of me, she acted more childlike and began to skip along the rough path towards where I stood watching, wondering. She started to laugh, to sing, and to speak with imaginary things that were not there. Was she truly that innocent, or was she mad? It was not unreasonable for children who suffer some darker turn of fortune in life, be it from loss or from some unfathomable hurt, to retreat into the realm of imagination or fancy to escape their innermost torments. Something had driven here out here, into the wildest parts of the land… and I could not imagine what. I should have called out to her, greeted her, or at least asked how she was doing. But I did not! I felt frozen, unable to move even my lips to form a word. Had I the ability to do so, what words would even be appropriate for such a circumstance as this? I had to think, had to reason and break out of the strange reverie that held me spellbound. Then, my compassion for the little girl overcame whatever had put me under that glamour, and I spoke to her at last. “My dear child,” I began, “It would seem that I have lost my way in these woods, and that you yourself may well have also. Even so, mayhap you know this place better than I… and so, could you be so kind as to tell me if yonder path leads out from here? Further, if you are: in fact, troubled at being so far from your own home, for whatever the reason, then gladly would I render aid unto you if possible. What say you?” and she answered in a perhaps playful tone of voice, saying: “Surely you jest with me, for I am not troubled at all! This is my home, and it would be strange indeed if I knew not the ways of my own dwelling-place.” Then she laughed and giggled, and I saw the sparkle of mirth in her eyes that told me she was not mad after all, but merely innocent enough to believe whatever fantasy she had concocted about this being her home. She continued, as if needing to clarify her words further: “My home is many places, and so this one will do as much as any, will it not?” I nodded in agreement, for I felt like the stranger here, and she added: “If you seek to find your way, then I can direct you aright. Follow me closely, sir!”
Part Three: My True Name, Spoken
I walked behind her until we came a good distance from where we met, and she rushed back to me and put my hand in her own, insisting that I maintain our clasp and not stray from one another’s company, no matter what. We walked thus, hand in hand, and as we took a leisurely pace she asked me what I did not tell her my name. I tried to think of it, but my name would not come to my mind… instead, many names from many times past came bubbling up from the recesses of my soul. “I cannot tell it to you. It is… too much to tell.” I explained. The child then said rather serenely to me: “That is alright, for I already know who you are. You know me as well, but not in this guise.” And I looked long and hard at her, trying to force the memory of her to come to the fore. Her hair was golden, and worn in long, graceful curls that cascaded down to frame a lovely oval face. The style of her hair had bangs, at the forehead, and she wore a crimson ribbon with a single red rose attached to it, to hold back her precious locks. Her ruby lips and pale green eyes held me spellbound. It was her eyes that seemed most familiar to me of all… and something had captivated me when I gazed into them. Her skin was pink and smooth, and she looked very much like a doll. Yet, she was a living and breathing girl with a real heart and soul. A familiar one, even if I could not immediately place it! As I studied the child, she ceased to walk and looked back at me, returning the stare I had held her in prior. She was searching for something… but what? It was something within me, some spark of what she remembered of me from long ago. She smiled broadly, seeming to find what she sought. Then, the wind howled and a chill breeze blew hard through the trees all about us. The scant sunlight vanished, and I suspect it was night at last, for I heard the light chirping of crickets and the call of those night-birds which haunt such climes as these. The woods grew dark, so very dark, and I was happy to be holding the child’s hand after all. We walked for a distance that was impossible to guess at, and I saw some distant illumination from fireflies. Suddenly, there was a soft glow that radiated forth from the little girl herself! The light was of her very spirit, and she glowed with it beautifully. “Tell me now…” she whispered to me in a sad and gentle tone: “Tell me what name you will give unto God, when He asks you for it in the hour when you must stand before Him. You have so many, but do you know which one God would recognize you by the most? Say not that He is God and therefore He will know, for that is not the point, nor the purpose behind my asking!” I then searched my soul for the answer, and I spoke the most ancient of all my names. It left a terrible sensation within me, and I wished I had not uttered it aloud. The little girl seemed pleased, and then stated: “Do not deny what it is that you are… and whom it is that you are… for were you told that doing so is humility? It is a false humility to deny oneself! God never commanded you to discard your very soul. Why choose to do so, then? It is man, who would have you believe you are less than the totality of your true self. You cannot vanquish the past by denying it. Doing so will only vanquish you, for there is strength in truth. Embrace the truth, and gain strength.” I then stared dumbfounded into those sparkling green eyes of the radiant child’s, and I slowly said: “I revealed unto you, what I would have told only the most high. Our souls are linked together, but something feels wrong about all of this… for you have yet to reveal your own name to me!”
Part Four: The Light in The Forest
The unearthly child’s face then seemed to be of some heavenly countenance, and her manner became imperious. I became afraid, and said unto her: “I know not even what you are, nor if you be an angel, a goddess, or some errant spirit. What if you prove to be a devil or demon taking on the disguise of one so blessedly fair? Surely I was then unwise to grant you power over me by revealing what only God should be told. I regret my weakness, and I pray God will show mercy upon me for it!” I let go of her hand, and I started to walk away from her. I started back down that long path by which we had come, and I did not look back. Suddenly, I felt her hand in mine and she was simply there beside me once again. As if I had never been apart from her at all. “Your fear…” she began to state, “Your fear, is what spoke to me just now. It is also what drove you to abandon your own self-knowledge and hide in the present era… when you are beyond such things. None may change or alter the past, for it is the canvas of history itself. And the future is unknown. Consider this well: in coming here, to me, are you lost or are you found? Say not that it was I who came to you, for I was here ere ever you set out upon the paths that brought you hither. Those mists were created by your own fears, and just as they parted the closer you came to me… so too can those same fears be banished by simple trust. Trust in me, and you shall be saved!” I gave in at last, for I saw only wisdom in her words and no trace of deception after all. “Very well, sweet child… I place my trust in you. Lead me from fear and from being lost. Show me the way!” And then it happened. The glow of the girl became so bright, that she outshone even the stars of a midnight sky. The moon dimmed before it, and the sun would have been rivaled by it. I averted my eyes, bowed my head to the earth itself, and my hand in hers tingled with warmth and power. A light filled the forest, which was not of the mortal world, and in the sky there was but one single star that held a similar appearance to that glow. I beheld all that had been hidden from view before, and I spied things in the forest that were spirits, angels, and things that had no names at all. Here was the aura of a truly divine being, and when the angelic little girl next spoke her voice had become that of an adult woman… a voice that was at once peaceful and commanding. She transformed as she opened her mouth thusly, and what she became was something androgynous and more beautiful than anything of mere mortal feminine beauty. I felt pure love, compassion, and understanding from her… from it… and I smelled the distinct scent of roses. “In trusting me, you have allowed yourself to see me as I truly am, not just as I would deign to appear!” and when she said that unto me, I knew that I had only been deceiving myself. She was right all along, and in accepting myself, and her, I was brought closer to God. She continued to speak, saying: “I said that I would direct you aright, and so I shall show you a path. It is not the same as the one you walked before coming here, but it is the road you shall travel for all your days henceforth. You began on it when first you could not bring yourself to approach that city, and when you rejected the hypocritical holiness of established faith. Worship with me here, then, for these trees are the true columns of God’s house. This place is my temple to the most high, wherein I myself was revered of old. Whereas before I could not look upon her, I now could not look away from the angel who spoke unto me. The light was no longer blinding.
Part Five: An Angelic Ascension
I learned her true name, just as she had learned mine. We had both known one another all along, and this mystery I must keep. Her star glowed on high, just as she glowed here below. “I am your teacher, your illuminator.” She explained. “Now you bear those titles, for the wisdom I have bequeathed unto you, you shall share with others who lack the light.” I was then baptized in her radiance, brought within that nimbus of light and purity. “I was wrong about you.” I told her, “You are no devil or demon of any kind.” It was then that she oddly chose to correct me. “I am those things, as well as all the blessed things you could ever love. Such is the nature of life, that all things that exist have this dual nature of darkness and light. Think not that, because you see my light, that I have no darkness within me.” And having seen into my own innermost dark side, I knew she spoke truly when she said that. I was taken by her: to a stone circle like unto Stonehenge, and there she gave into my charge a simple wood wand topped with an emerald… and she also gave me a circlet which was Egyptian in design. I donned the circlet and took up the wand, whilst around my neck was an amulet in the shape of a serpent swallowing its’ own tail. The angel then spoke unto me, saying: “Here is where, on the morning, you shall be delivered back to your waking life once again. Until then, attend me and conduct the rites that I instruct you to perform. I am Glory, I am Love, and I am Light. Be not afraid, for we are kindred in every way.” And I was not afraid. The illuminated night seemed to lose any terrors it might have possessed before, and the old stones seemed to pulse and breathe with a life of their own. Chanting came from the stones, and I saw the shades of others who had worshipped there since time immemorial. I heard many of my old names spoken, and I knew that once upon a time men mistook me for a god. I laid the emerald wand down upon the altar stone at the center of the circle, and in a single instant I could recall much that had been lost to me previously. Illumination, it is called, when one awakens from the slumbers of their own ignorance. Ere the coming of the morning, I had indeed been freed from the bondage that comes from a lock of knowledge. The angel took me into her arms, and I became much like unto her in appearance. Androgynous and beautiful, beyond human conceptions of such notions! And twin angels flew to the heavens, where the planets and stars are, and we flew to places that of old were special to us. I came unto the holy world whose name was known to prophets of a certain era, and I saw the ruins that dotted its’ surface. Then, we journeyed to Mars, and there I saw only desolation for as far as the eye could see. I saw traces of the past, but they were hidden well. At length, we returned to Earth and were drawn once more to the circle of stones where our celestial ascension had begun. The angel and I were locked in a tender embrace, our lips kissing and our hands caressing one another. Slowly, time passed and she reverted to her former childlike form, even as I became just as human once more as I typically am in everyday life. Morning was dawning, and the morning star was brighter than ever. It had been her star, and I felt its’ power being sent forth across the sea of stars. Soon I would awaken from this dream that was something more than just a simple dream, and the mundane task of daily living would begin anew. But I remembered that I had been instructed to pass on to others what had been passed on to me. This story I have now shared, is how I chose to honor this.
Written by Kou_Indigo
(Karam L. Parveen-Ashton)
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Not really a poem, but rather a short story relating a dream I had. I almost had a mind not to choose it for the contest, but if it does not fit the contest that is alright. I do not mind sharing it on here in any case.
my dreams
Burned parts of skin
Dream in advance
Prophetic sense
in the audience
Ghosts of archetypes
Some angel guides
Mystery faces
that hypnotize
My abyss land
talks through my sleep
the mood is festive
and horrifying
Gates on earth
Beings with no voice
are observed by me
with startling joy
Silent hills
of dark alleys
Houses' trespassers
search of a moonstone
But this can't be
faces unknown
stories behind
my mind's blown
A rebel song
Lights from beyond
three entities soar
I'm home alone
My antique rocking chair
I restfully swing
people of glee
all aspects of me
Symbolic walk
upon a fence
Abandoned buildings
This is myself.
Emotional war
on a solid floor
A talking dog
I'm long now gone
Right through pure darkness
pre-knowledge's draining
the mind arises
like schyzophrenic
Dream in advance
Prophetic sense
in the audience
Ghosts of archetypes
Some angel guides
Mystery faces
that hypnotize
My abyss land
talks through my sleep
the mood is festive
and horrifying
Gates on earth
Beings with no voice
are observed by me
with startling joy
Silent hills
of dark alleys
Houses' trespassers
search of a moonstone
But this can't be
faces unknown
stories behind
my mind's blown
A rebel song
Lights from beyond
three entities soar
I'm home alone
My antique rocking chair
I restfully swing
people of glee
all aspects of me
Symbolic walk
upon a fence
Abandoned buildings
This is myself.
Emotional war
on a solid floor
A talking dog
I'm long now gone
Right through pure darkness
pre-knowledge's draining
the mind arises
like schyzophrenic
Written by personanongrata
(Astral Gift)
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