Thread: From the Land of Dreams

Hey.

Not being a judge of poetry I'll leave my comments simple. First I think you should leave out your explanations of what these poems mean or put those explanations in spoilers. There's more of a surreal feeling in trying to decipher a poem oneself, while it might take away if a person knows the meaning before reading.

That said I felt myself swimming in imagery with your first piece, and each line capturing a profound feeling of love and longing. There is a strong sense of being able to relate that I believe any who read this will notice as well.

That said I, too, have had a period in my life where I've had dream after dram about someone and it was a most tormenting experience. Considering how happy the dreams made me, and yet how unmistakeably fake they were.

The second poem evokes a bit of anger and even a sort of an adrenaline rush when thinking of this person and whatever destruction he or she may cause. I especially liked the line "Step slowly through the bloodstained door". I picture this as you finding your way out at long last, but not before large amounts of chaos has ensued.

I know to help other writers it's best to have criticisms, but to my eyes I see none. These were amazing reads and I hope you continue.

Thank you so much for the amazing compliment! I'm really glad you took the time to read my poems and give such an in depth reply.

Not being a judge of poetry I'll leave my comments simple. First I think you should leave out your explanations of what these poems mean or put those explanations in spoilers. There's more of a surreal feeling in trying to decipher a poem oneself, while it might take away if a person knows the meaning before reading.

I think you're right about this. I'll go back and add the spoilers to my original post.

That said I felt myself swimming in imagery with your first piece, and each line capturing a profound feeling of love and longing. There is a strong sense of being able to relate that I believe any who read this will notice as well.

That said I, too, have had a period in my life where I've had dream after dram about someone and it was a most tormenting experience. Considering how happy the dreams made me, and yet how unmistakeably fake they were.

That's exactly how I felt as I was writing this. Normally I feel depressed for weeks after experiencing these dreams, and it only makes it worse that this person doesn't even exist IRL.

The second poem evokes a bit of anger and even a sort of an adrenaline rush when thinking of this person and whatever destruction he or she may cause. I especially liked the line "Step slowly through the bloodstained door". I picture this as you finding your way out at long last, but not before large amounts of chaos has ensued.

Very perceptive. This person was just so persistant, and he was impossible to defeat. (I got kicked around very badly; even being lucid didn't help me any.)

Spoiler for Exerpt from DJ:

I become lucid. I climb onto someone's car, intending to hitch a ride, when I remember I have much more important things to do.

I want to find Anne to ask her more questions ((I don't think she was honest with me in my last lucid)) but I also want to search for my Dream Guide. After a moment of consideration, I decide to do both. I call Anne, and she appears. I then fly off to a secluded area so we can toalk without the distraction of cars. I sort of forget she's following me and I accidentally leave her behind.

I am running down an old dirt road, taking great joy in how real everything is. The sunshine, the cool breeze, the way my feet feel against the hard dirt... Then I notice what looks like a child-sized mummy hanging from a wooden stake in a large open field. Ignoring it, I call out, trying to summon my DG. ((Hard to do when I have no idea what he/she will look like or what their personality will be.))

"Wait," I hear a little voice say. I turn around. Obviously the little mummy had just spoken. "What if I can help you?" Against my better judgement, I walk closer. He jumps down from the pole and introduces himself as Leroy. His bandages begin to unravel, and I notice that all of his flesh has been scorched.

"Just out of curiosity," I begin carefully, "How did you become a charred corpse?"

"My parents burned me," he says without a hint of emotion.

Leroy comes with me back to the edge of the road, where Anne is waiting. I keep telling Anne not to look at Leroy's face for fear that it will scare her. When she eventually does see him, she swears to me that he is evil and that we have to get away.

"Don't listen to her, either," Leroy tells me. "She's an evil one like us." ((I'd really like to know the "us" he was reffering to.))

"How could I be evil?" Anne rationalized. "I've been with you since the beginning!"

Anne and I end up running from Leroy, because whether or not she's evil, he definately is. Eventually, as I knew would happen, he found where we were hiding. Up until now, he had been a young boy about Anne's age. (I deduct that they are related, most likely siblings.) Now he is in his late teens/early twenties. (And no longer scorched. He had just chosen that original form to gain my compassion, I assume.) He has wild hair and angry looking eyes. I might have even found him attractive if he weren't bent on killing me.

As it turns out, Leroy has some major skills in martial arts, so I am powerless against him in hand to hand combat. In fact, I get kicked around pretty badly. Finally I attempt to shoot out a wave of fire, assuming he wil be afraid of it. (Since his parents apparently burned him alive.) However, I fail miserably to create any fire, so I am forced once again to flee with Anne.

I know to help other writers it's best to have criticisms, but to my eyes I see none. These were amazing reads and I hope you continue.

Criticism is great, but your compliment certainly boosted my ego.

Ugh, this is driving me insane... Not even going to bother explaining this one, my reasons behind it are too twisted.

A Dark Allure

Lecherous persual
Playing on innocent fears.
A fatal attraction
Drawing blood from pointless tears.

Impossible to trust
That vicious gleam in your eye
Yet allure draws us close
Impossible to deny.

Our behavior speaks hate
Yet our bodies scream desire
Shall we destroy ourselves
Or ignite passionate fire?

Two acrostics I wrote for class. They don't really have anything to do with a specific dream, but I like the way they turned out.

Warrior

Wisdom of blades
Artisan dealing in death
Rythm of the winds
Resonating the Valkaryie's cry
Icy heart of the battle hardened
Onward to the bloodsoaked fields
Reaping the souls of their kindred

Hunter

Hallowed ground of the forest
Unrelenting in silent chase
Nighttime warrior singing of death
Tameless wanderer with courageous heart
Eternally glorified seeker of souls
Roaming the wildlands.