Submissions by TheDreamDancer
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
UPBEAT INSPIRATIONAL POEM
Published
1st Dec 2012 8:40pm
1st Dec 2012 8:40pm
3 poems in questions of love
Is life worth living if You do not strive to give to the Giving?
Love knows all and is not timid to show it;but afraid to blow It?
Wise men crave,not acting upon life's greed or do they Sceratly
?
No one speaks for the weak, yet are we not all weak in the Heart?
One in a crowed room may spot you, but are they to stay Stareing?
Can love solve all the problemes in one's world Compleatly?
Tell me again and again the story of love; will you tire of this?
But when eclisped in silence, will You always bring my mind Out?
In the cold world,does love really warm the...
Love knows all and is not timid to show it;but afraid to blow It?
Wise men crave,not acting upon life's greed or do they Sceratly
?
No one speaks for the weak, yet are we not all weak in the Heart?
One in a crowed room may spot you, but are they to stay Stareing?
Can love solve all the problemes in one's world Compleatly?
Tell me again and again the story of love; will you tire of this?
But when eclisped in silence, will You always bring my mind Out?
In the cold world,does love really warm the...
782 reads
1 Comment
STORY POEM
Published
11th May 2012 5:32am
11th May 2012 5:32am
Little girl
Out casted
The music plays for the deaf girl,
her feet moving in a trance,
with no beat that could ever be apprehended, a sacred dance…
She was a delicate one,
I will not lie, but if it wasn’t for the gypsies then she might’ve died,
cause the streets were cold in the winter night, and she was about to step into that bright light…
-i really want some body to put some more ideas into this poem...i've had it for a long time and i would love if it would carry on more...^-^
The music plays for the deaf girl,
her feet moving in a trance,
with no beat that could ever be apprehended, a sacred dance…
She was a delicate one,
I will not lie, but if it wasn’t for the gypsies then she might’ve died,
cause the streets were cold in the winter night, and she was about to step into that bright light…
-i really want some body to put some more ideas into this poem...i've had it for a long time and i would love if it would carry on more...^-^
764 reads
1 Comment
EROTIC POEM
Published
11th May 2012 5:16am
11th May 2012 5:16am
Early morning...
i walk into my room soaked from this morning's shower, a weak attempt to scrub away the wetness and the mood from last night dream.
In remembrance i blush pink and pretend to look at the hour.
Steam coming off my skin, i lay on our bed, gooses bumps covering every inch of my body.
i smile,
arching out of the towel,
stretching,
feeling energy run through me,
blood warm...
i only allow myself to feel this way, every once and a while.
i close my eyes sleepily...
My mind pulsates as i go through my memory box , as a child would peer...
In remembrance i blush pink and pretend to look at the hour.
Steam coming off my skin, i lay on our bed, gooses bumps covering every inch of my body.
i smile,
arching out of the towel,
stretching,
feeling energy run through me,
blood warm...
i only allow myself to feel this way, every once and a while.
i close my eyes sleepily...
My mind pulsates as i go through my memory box , as a child would peer...
1151 reads
1 Comment
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
10th May 2012 5:24am
10th May 2012 5:24am
vision
Fuck painting the roses red...
i'm going to paint the yellow brick road green...
I know it would be easyer to live in the world of black and white but techno color is my scene
Fuck telling time with a whatch...
i'm going to whatch the moon travle across the sky and the sun be nothing but a distant dream
i know it would be easyer to see in the day time instead of the lights of night but complications then start to steam
...what i guess i'm trying to say i guess is its been a backwards day, in the oddest way
Take it how you please
...
i'm going to paint the yellow brick road green...
I know it would be easyer to live in the world of black and white but techno color is my scene
Fuck telling time with a whatch...
i'm going to whatch the moon travle across the sky and the sun be nothing but a distant dream
i know it would be easyer to see in the day time instead of the lights of night but complications then start to steam
...what i guess i'm trying to say i guess is its been a backwards day, in the oddest way
Take it how you please
...
688 reads
0 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
10th May 2012 5:15am
10th May 2012 5:15am
canvase
I want to paint this canvas with beauty…the happiness i'm given…that you've given me...
Light…
I want to paint this canvas, make it sturdy with emotions, encrusted it with paint, time, and devotions...but in the end i know its still hollow on the in side...
i want to paint this canvas its been staring at me for a while, there's only two left you know...
only two more chances to show everyone...
how i feel now...
how things are going now...
how there’s a big difference…to separate past from present...
i want to get it right...
I’m...
Light…
I want to paint this canvas, make it sturdy with emotions, encrusted it with paint, time, and devotions...but in the end i know its still hollow on the in side...
i want to paint this canvas its been staring at me for a while, there's only two left you know...
only two more chances to show everyone...
how i feel now...
how things are going now...
how there’s a big difference…to separate past from present...
i want to get it right...
I’m...
876 reads
0 Comments
FICTIONAL PROSE
Published
3rd May 2012 5:33am
3rd May 2012 5:33am
tide goes in and out...
The tide goes in then comes out,
I gaze upon the dark ocean waves from the safe distance of the railing of our ship…here on dark stained wood of the haul, the cream and bleached white sails above me, the night curling her fingers around the evening sun, as to rock the other to sleep beneath the sea.
I keep breathing deep, deeper and deeper…
I relized I have closed my eyes, setting my sights back on once was a light up sky, finding small thunder clouds an almost grey light, not quite danger nor darkness, what may be a small imperfection, what power it will harnest? An unanswered...
I gaze upon the dark ocean waves from the safe distance of the railing of our ship…here on dark stained wood of the haul, the cream and bleached white sails above me, the night curling her fingers around the evening sun, as to rock the other to sleep beneath the sea.
I keep breathing deep, deeper and deeper…
I relized I have closed my eyes, setting my sights back on once was a light up sky, finding small thunder clouds an almost grey light, not quite danger nor darkness, what may be a small imperfection, what power it will harnest? An unanswered...
850 reads
1 Comment
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
3rd May 2012 5:03am
3rd May 2012 5:03am
day...day dream?
a good fuck
a nice puff
a smile on her face
a peaceful nap
a filling snack
a quite book to carry on the day
a clear blue sky
a cup of warm tea
a reson to live, -no more it being a reson to die
...my lover laying on my lap, blissful at last...
...the siver top kept spinning...
...the play ground years desserted...
...we're the only ones to be found...
...our laughs still echo...
...in my mind...
a good day to be found...
...she promissesd that this dream would forever last....
a nice puff
a smile on her face
a peaceful nap
a filling snack
a quite book to carry on the day
a clear blue sky
a cup of warm tea
a reson to live, -no more it being a reson to die
...my lover laying on my lap, blissful at last...
...the siver top kept spinning...
...the play ground years desserted...
...we're the only ones to be found...
...our laughs still echo...
...in my mind...
a good day to be found...
...she promissesd that this dream would forever last....
821 reads
1 Comment
SELF POEM
Published
6th Jan 2012 3:17am
6th Jan 2012 3:17am
The woman and girl
A woman is trapped in such a naive little girl...
*Sound of static*
She knows more about the past and present,
yet the girl won't listen to her steady words,
not knowing their worth,
not knowing that they’re a bloody, fucking present,
that doesn’t have to be given,
that oxygen is being used, for the message to be ringing out through the room, a loud verbal send’en,
a precious present,
under appreciated,
thrown away wisdom,
an example of irony at its finest
*white noise, more static*
Un-Shamefully the little girl...
*Sound of static*
She knows more about the past and present,
yet the girl won't listen to her steady words,
not knowing their worth,
not knowing that they’re a bloody, fucking present,
that doesn’t have to be given,
that oxygen is being used, for the message to be ringing out through the room, a loud verbal send’en,
a precious present,
under appreciated,
thrown away wisdom,
an example of irony at its finest
*white noise, more static*
Un-Shamefully the little girl...
916 reads
0 Comments
STORY POEM
Published
6th Jan 2012 2:34am
6th Jan 2012 2:34am
myths...
I am the Sprite in your sub-conscious, making you inner-ly twitch, scraping furiously on the metal door with long sharp iron fingertips, waiting for you to break down, letting me in.
I am your Succubis sinking into you in your sleep, giving you more than a poison’s kiss, making you hot and wet, making you dream of deep vivid nightmares of wanting old sins.
I am the Dryad in your third eye eating at all your known and un-known knowledge, replacing it with false images, and the suspicion of upcoming destructive life decisions
I am your Cath Sith in your heart...
I am your Succubis sinking into you in your sleep, giving you more than a poison’s kiss, making you hot and wet, making you dream of deep vivid nightmares of wanting old sins.
I am the Dryad in your third eye eating at all your known and un-known knowledge, replacing it with false images, and the suspicion of upcoming destructive life decisions
I am your Cath Sith in your heart...
655 reads
0 Comments
STORY POEM
Published
21st Nov 2011 1:27am
21st Nov 2011 1:27am
Maid
-Holding the little girl's hand carefully i smiled,
that is until she told me to her how i became
her mother's an father's personal maid...-
i lose at the game of life,
she smile (your mother) and drags me away,
a bet's a bet,
and it was just not my day...
The taro cards cut me, as i"m thrown in her bedroom's cage;
her creatures are loyal they do not make eye contact with me,
they stay their distance when guarding the stage...
"This is the stage of past life, only in your dreams now will your body willingly enjoy the sun and...
that is until she told me to her how i became
her mother's an father's personal maid...-
i lose at the game of life,
she smile (your mother) and drags me away,
a bet's a bet,
and it was just not my day...
The taro cards cut me, as i"m thrown in her bedroom's cage;
her creatures are loyal they do not make eye contact with me,
they stay their distance when guarding the stage...
"This is the stage of past life, only in your dreams now will your body willingly enjoy the sun and...
806 reads
0 Comments
NON-FICTION PROSE
Published
20th Nov 2011 11:27pm
20th Nov 2011 11:27pm
ink on the mind....and on the skin
Tattoo artist are the biggest body riders out there...just a thought...but its a completely another thing to know what i'm saying
686 reads
0 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by TheDreamDancer
