Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

I have questioned all the nightly dreams
That flood my tired brain like rising tides
And sense the ghostly girls who touch and feel

And in their tired eyes, I see the dying spark.
I have felt the flowered dames inside my mind
With all their dancing feet upon my heart

Whose voices drown the peace of lonely hours
And send the sugared boys to waste their bones.

I have sensed the dying mothers in my ears
The sharp harsh words that crack my skin
That let and lease the saddened soul within.

I have bruised the fading touches with my hand
And heard the cracked up days of yesteryears
Ring out with all the voices of our fears.

An old poem of mine revived.

Dadio, Some tragedy seems reflected in the narration of your poem. Hope this coming year is better. If we live long enough, we have all occasionally "heard the wolf at the door"... Onward, is into the living day...to paraphrase C. S. Lewis.
I appreciate your art postcards and poetry in the net.

Thank you, Steve. Best wishes for you in 2011.

Good stuff again, slower more subtle imagery than the last piece of yours I read... Keep posting!... Cheers!

i awoke from dream land
not knowing if it was real
a reality from the past
or a dream i once had
life is a dream within a dream
nice write dadio!

memories and dreams at some point seem to merge into a state of consciousness
that begs questions about our involvement on the scene and how it all fits together in the scheme.......regardless of the message here, it is hauntingly deliverd........................"and send the sugared boys to waste their bones."

fantasy falls aside
and here i am
looking for more

Thank you all very much for reading this old poem of mine. Happy 2011.