Death Of My Dreams


I watched...

while silent tears, of one-sided grief,

slowly ran in rivulets down my cheeks.

Last rights were spoken, but did nothing

to undo the wrongs.


DNR, written in blood red, screamed from off

the charted page of an empty file.

Life support was removed and helplessly I stood,

watching, waiting,

until the colors drained, a last breath was drawn

and all that remained, was white-sheeted regret.


No mourners, save for myself,

cared to view or grieve, or even offer comfort

to this bereaved soul.


I sat alone, in a high-backed, burgundy upholstered chair,

while somber music wafted past my ears

and parlor scents permeated my senses.


I eulogized out loud,

speaking of wasted time,

unmet goals, long-held regrets,

and unhealed scars,

but my words only echoed back, in taunt,

in the hollowness of the vacant chairs.


I, the lone mourner,

in single-filed procession,



past the weathered stones of others. 

I said my 'goodbye' graveside,

as a soft rain fell, in a mingling of tears, and dirt, to mud...


Tossing one red rose

and a handful of rich, brown soil,

There...right there,

I buried my dreams,

a mere six feet below

my hopes.




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(time and relative dimension in space)

By jfarrell


(inspired by dr who)


This is why I love free verse…

My life story, history, autobio…..

Goes on for  a billion pages…



In a poem

1 page, 4 stanzas

No rhyming couplets

But a rhythm that rocks your bones….

Kisses your soul

And dances the twist with your heart….




Not only can I describe what it felt like,

Back then,

I can whisk you away in my time machine

And you can feel it, experience it for yourself



If you’re familair with dr who…

You know to keep running away

Coz the daleks, cybermen and all horrible monsters

Running after you….

You look like their next dinner


I am the TARDIS.

A wordsmith.

But, still

A happily committed drunk!


Author's Notes/Comments: 

sorry, i used to absolutely love dr who

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By jfarrell


   (in regards to Rudyard Kipling’s masterpiece)



You’re still standing, after all this time;

After all these many battles and defeats;


When they rub salt in your wounds,

You can lick it out and spit it back at them;


When they kick your legs from under you, you get up;

Because you’re too stupid to stay down;



If only life had been nicer;

Seaside and ice cream;

Hugs and kisses from mum and dad



But a lot of things;

And none of them matter

After all this time.



If you can’t get even, get drunk;

So drunk, how much it hurts don’t matter;


You’re sleeping ‘out’ tonight;

Keep warm, it’s gonna be a cold one;


I, we, all cared more,

And life was very different from what it is;


John Lennon invited us to imagine;

And we could all imagine that dream enough to share it.


What if….?


Author's Notes/Comments: 

i hope if was rudyard kipling, or i really messed that up, hehe :-) i relly should check my stuff first

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I Will Give You Water

Water will surely fall from the sky,

it's the bus route of weather,

Stopping at sunshine,

Getting of on a cloudy day,

Taking the transfer to a spring shower,

But why is it so certain that the plants will accept the sky's offering?

Isn't their delicacy of slightest concern?

Hasn't the plant ever questioned the hp balance of the water?

Or the cloud's proximity to a nuclear plant?

How have they continued on thriving?

Indiscriminately welcoming whatever the ground gives them.

Think of my love as water,


It may have collected a few toxins here or there,

But it started from a stream that would only flow for you,

If you can never see past the warning labels,

On the bottles of "what if's?"

How then,

Will our flowers grow?


Author's Notes/Comments: 

I plan on adding to this soon

** i did not

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One Day....

One day I will be the long narrow driveway,

Tour guide welcoming those ravenous window shoppers,

Aspiring photographers,

Into my hand painted,

Family stained,


My kids will play in our serene garden our composed yard,

Where the deer and rabbits will come to watch our love be magnificent,

They'll spy as those tiny mysteries board their bus to private school,

The trouble makers will shoot them down,


Self- pity,

Yearning for their way of life,

They'll know,

As I did,

These angels are real,

Their happiness genuine,


One day I will smile like you,

Satisfy like you,

I'll fill the blackest night with innocent magic,

Flush these backward alchemy bottles down the drain,

The nausea of sanity's prerequisites,

I'll be the good son,

The good worker,

Scholarly student,

Church goer,

Philanthropic billionaire,

Retirement home socialite,

Tracing my good deeds through every continent,

The safari of retribution,


Put aside these atrocities,

Bugs on the windshield,

Nails on the chalkboard,

One day I will be extaordinary,


Their resonance deafening in sleepy rooms,

Scrambling to break free,

Lunging towards the basement door,



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There is no Obligation

There is no obligation.

No urge, no restraint, no frustration.

A weak chain that in the wind may blow,

A strong and sturdy, heavy chain, no.

There is no choice,

No choice to be made.

No need to rejoice,

No suffering forbade.


For us to make meet, there are no ends,

For I see no obligation there, my friends.

Author's Notes/Comments: 



Well, here's a good way to end this after I've pushed aside a thought from my mind:


With a sword.


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Ambient Mood


Ambient Mood


Softly aglow in the heavenly parlor,

set amid countless stars gathered by night

Outside the window - a moon of amber shine,

capturer of souls with its enchanting light


With a glimmer from mist in transfixed eyes,

hypnotic lure prompts inspired thoughts to muse

Far off on a world where hopes find their home,

fulfilled life and heart are the ones you choose


Swept up by the whispers of overhead skies,

dormant voices in self - from here to there

Images erasing shadows - fashioned by strife,

tears into smiles from the breath of despair


Peering past the room to further than beyond,

foreign dreams to slumber waken to opened mind

Pleasures that await - familiar for this while,

replace toils tossed away, leaving them behind


Beside your bed, curtains whisked by a breeze,

ambiance - with songs from a Whip-poor-will

Summer eve sounds help instill the pensive mood,

from comfort of pillow - destiny to fulfill


Softly aglow in the heavenly parlor,

set amid countless stars gathered by night

Outside the window - a moon of amber shine,

capturer of souls with its enchanting light


© C.E.Vance

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My Love

Gone today

Was here before

What was my joy

Walked out the door

All that I lived

Now is gone

All is lost

What once was won


Nothing left

There’s nothing more

All my dreams

Crashed on the floor

My hopes are shattered

My vision’s battered

Forsaken, bereft

There’s nothing left

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and dreams

once again shattered

tossed into the ocean


copyright by heather burns

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