Dreams

image from rubyblossom

Reaching back in memory

to when I was a child

the border between wakefulness and dreams

was a gauzy curtain

and I often peeked through

spying on one side

from the other.

I could conjure my favorite dream world

and leave when it threatened to turn nightmarish

but I could never bring back

my dream treasures.

Vague and hazy now

I remember brightly colored toys

cuddly stuffed animals

a sweet, delicate music

and a profound happiness

that I yearned to bring with me

to wakefulness

yet

I always awakened

with empty fists

and arms hugged around nothing

but myself.

When I cried

my mother would ask if I'd had a nightmare

I could never explain

that I was crying

for a happy dream

that I had to leave behind.

submitted for Theme Thursday, Treasure

and Gooseberry Garden, Childhood, Dreams

Phoenix

Phoenix by Timo-san

Tired

from a long day of

nothing

but mental masturbation

and self-flagellation

Brain packed with eider down

fuzzed filled

forgetful

The clock

the enemy

ticking away the day

time to rally 

move the leaden limbs

accomplish something

anything

maybe tomorrow

I've been shot down

in flames

and I want to believe

in rebirth

but I'm still waiting

burnt feathers

and charred carrion.

submitted for One Single Impression, Birdie
Gooseberry Garden, Poetry Picnic, Feathers

The Kiss

image source

Practicing with her reflection

in the bedroom mirror

What if the lips don't align or the

head tilt is incorrect?

She studies the angles, features, dimensions

Such easy nonchalance takes much rehearsal

A flip of chestnut hair

a carefree laugh

and then

hold the gaze just long enough to let him

know

She leans in with lips

slightly parted

slightly quivering

Crashes into reality and

herself

in the hard, cold glass.

submitted for Poetry Picnic #2, The Kiss, at Gooseberry Garden