Write a poem about a dream you have had, but in the poem itself you can never mention that it’s a dream. It can be clear by the content of the poem that it is a dream, but it doesn’t have to be. You can combine more than one dream if you wish to.
24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
Write a poem about a dream you have had, but in the poem itself you can never mention that it’s a dream. It can be clear by the content of the poem that it is a dream, but it doesn’t have to be. You can combine more than one dream if you wish to.
ARMAGEDDON
The gates of Hell are rising
To engulf the diseased Earth.
Moms and Dads are crying,
Babies dead right after birth.
Demons are attacking,
Taking everything they see.
The world around us blacking
As we plunge into the sea.
The life we know is ending
As it suddenly is clear
That evil is impending,
The Devil’s thousand years.
Dirt and stench surround us
As we see what might have been.
Satan, now has found us
The king of wicked men.
Our paths are laid before us,
To the sinners’ realm we go;
To the torture that is for us,
Reserved for human souls.
Eternity, defined here
Is where we’ll spend our days.
The lives we left behind us
Have gone their separate ways.
The fires are getting close now.
I can feel them burn my soul.
For my soul was black with evil,
My sins as black as coal.
The foolish do not heed me
Or mend their wicked ways.
The lambs of God march forward on
Into the fiery blaze.
Creeping beauty
Over the fence I sat
Yo view the scenic beauty
That was overshadowed by the mountain.
Beyond that mountain stood
The man I portrayed in my heart
Vested with all virtue calling me true.
Twinkling like a jasper
Painted in emerald
Stood he under sun.
Standing on his right
Made me blush bright
With a crown on my head.
For he was the one
My soul was longing to me
Right under the tree dipped in blossom.
Nothing is as cherishable
Than to see the one in real
With same bones and flesh as mine.
This is really vivid. Don’t forget to share it as a post, as well as a comment!
I sat on an old wishing chair
A whining, rickety one at that
I said, “To Paris, away with flair
But it stood there looking like a doormat
” Fly”, I said, “or i’ll thrash you without care”
“I must see Notre Dame and the city of art”
But the chair shook me off, I almost fell by my hair
Then I threatened to pull it piece by piece apart
” No, you won’t”, it said, “you see I have no pair”
“Get off, I prefer kids, not adults so fat”
I screamed and tore at my thick black hair
Jumping and snarling like an angry cat
I woke up sweating on my bed soft and dear
The old wishing chair faded like ghosts of past
This took me a while, as I spent some time looking for a couple of my old journals from a period where I was able to record some of my dreams in great detail. I’m not keen on the result, but I went with it.
https://thepoetrymarathon.com/blog/kevinjoconner/20-february-1993/