All My Dreams Are Nightmares

All my dreams are nightmares, of crashing planes
Long lost lovers with others and dirge like strains
Locked in the reality of nothing, I'm forced to watch
My wretched silent screams I cannot seem to quash
Yearning for amnesia, but there's always one last thought
Devilline crystal eyes, I'm by this dreamcatcher, caught
Ravenously it feeds the deepest, darkest, hour of pain
Each taunting tale of terror shown, burns like acid rain
All my dreams are nightmares and this love's, a myth
My only genuine faith, is in all these ghosts, I'm with
Sometimes they may appear using my personal traits
Almost reassuring, but I know it's the guise of wraiths
Ringing like a death knell, but it's the alarm that's calling
Easing the dread for a while, come the dawn of mourning
Needing the reality of nothing, for all my dreams are dead
I try to quell my racing heart and find my sanity's thread
Gone, for now, those memories, for daylight's my antisera
Hostilities will resume though, come the next chimera
They'll re-emerge in the night and show me horror and loss
Macabrely leading me, like an effigy, to a burning cross
All my dreams are nightmares, they're from a cliff to fall
Reaching for a silent lover, who's back in another's thrall
Each haunting hour of horror is like those crashing planes
Stalling before falling, then hideous plumes from flames

Paradise Hill

In hopeful reveries might we be led through Eden's garden
To a certain place where we might find salvation's pardon
And there, they say, we'll be beyond our humanity's will
For at the end of the road is the sanctuary of Paradise Hill

Perhaps tonight we'll encounter an unspoilt ocean's roar
And start our journey on the golden sands of a distant shore
Rambling inland we might hope to find the spring of Taurus
Accompanied by, on high, the songbirds exuberant chorus
Dunes of naught but sand will lead to aromatic lavender fields
In a constant fragrant blooming of pure perpetual yields
Sun ripened crops will range, far and wide, in perfect weather
Everything raised and reaped, finally equally shared together
Happy thoughts to ponder, but the path's a tarmac lane
In an idyll that was never ever, the illusion's all in vain
Look back in fear, or not, as we try to cross this shire
Look forward with hope, or not, for what we all aspire

There's a dream of an Eden and it's on Paradise Hill
It's there beyond the yonder, where humanity's still
Tho' the choir's ethereal, perhaps it's a place of plenty
But the road is long and some say the church is empty

#Rainbow Palm #Paradise Hill #Wet Dream

#Rainbow Palm

Cross your palm with this sunlit rainbow's hue
Then cage and crush it, 'til it's naught but dew
And kill its beauty, as your tears pour like rain
Evanescing, Richard Of York Gave Battle In Vain

#Paradise Hill

There's a dream of an Eden on Paradise Hill
It's there beyond the yonder, where humanity's still
Tho' the choir's ethereal, perhaps it's a place of plenty
But the road is long and some say the church is empty

#Wet Dream

I'm drowning in a dream induced by gallons of Bud
Locked in a delirious dream of a technicolor flood
There are rivers and oceans and a waterfall pouring
And a cloying dampness beyond my slumbering snoring

#The Invisible Man #Mandarinfish #Poet

#The Invisible Man

The invisible man has gone to ponder and think
About writing his manuscript in his invisible ink
It's a novel idea, but he won't reach the masses
So there's nothing to write and he can't find his glasses

#Mandarinfish

An illusion of a tangerine dream? No, I'm a mandarinfish
And I'm a rainbow siren and mayhap your reality's wish
So come swim with me in the briny, tho' I'll not be specific
For I'm shoal you'll never find me in the depths of the Pacific

#Poet

Penning lines of turgid words
Obliging with adjectives like smelly turds
Eternally whimsical and they know it
The everyday life of any poet

She's The Ice In My Blood

She's a memory in the mist
And she's a silhouettes shadow
When she's gone it's like a trick
That chills down to the marrow
But when she's there, she's a flare
She's a luminous rainbow...
...and no honey is sweeter
She's an apocalypse pending...
...and a lotus eater

She's the famine and the feast
And the drought and the flood
She's a gentle caress of a zephyr
And she's the ice in my blood
She's an emotional sinkhole...
Or have I misunderstood?

But when she's there, who cares?
She's an hourglass pouring...
...and a passionate schemer
She's the most dangerous tryst...
...and a bohemian dreamer
But she's gone, without a trace
And there is no way to follow
In the shadows and silhouettes
Where she was, is now hollow

(21 - 6 - {25})

Cities In Flames (Fear)

(The Wrath and The Fear)

Consuming flames, of molotov cocktails, are borne from latent embers
Inside the burning metropolises will be the skulking anarchist pretenders
The renegade brigades, with their middle fingers raised, will run amok
It might be their time tomorrow to worry and intimidate the placid flock
Ending the days of law and order, they'll hide under the hood and mask
Self-righteous firebrands, fanning wrath and fear, is their egocentric task
In tomorrow's hours their movement will stake their unfounded claims
Nothing will be left to loot though, in the toxic waste of cities in flames
Fanatics of the delusional will reign when the modern civilisations fall
Leaving only ruins and bedlam, for we will have lost the urban sprawl
And nothing will stop their ravaging revolution; for the fire is stoked
Marauding in herds, when the lighters ignite rags, in kerosene soaked
Eerily quiet for now, but perhaps tomorrow we will be under attack
Somewhere, out there, are the anarchist arsonists readying to sack

Cities In Flames (Wrath)

(The Wrath and The Fear)

Clinging cinders from raging flames, are borne from a red hot ember
Inside the metropolises will be razed, for the urban guerrillas agenda
The insurgencies with incendiaries and kalashnikovs will run amok
It's their time, perhaps tonight, to readjust and turn back the clock
Executing deliriously barbaric plans, for the dragon has finally woke
Sending us to Hell, in the ash and smog, of the toxic burning smoke
In the hours of wrath and fear they will make unenlightened claims
Nothing will be left though, but the scorched earth of cities in flames
Fire will engulf us, for those mad messiahs will want to kill us all
Lest we bend the knee we're going to die in the nihilists pyres pall
And not even death will stop them, the bedlamite fire starters
Madness will be idolised and reborn in the usual myth of martyrs
Empires of evil will flourish as we hide and watch another city burn
Sending us into hellfire, if not tonight, then soon an evil eye will turn