Without dreams.....
Life is a pool of blood,
Pain is how people find a sort of gain,
Dreams fall from trees in the fall,
A tombstone is the trophy of life,
A reminder of sorrow,
Loss, and pain.
Dreams jump off the high dive,
And depart from us forever,
In a tornado of confussion,
A pool of word,
A dictionary so to speak.
Dreams are what keep our blood flowing,
They are the beating of life.
A lost dream, a broken heart.
A contest entry
- Langston Hughes - quick contest by Peteskid.
1200 points, ended May 5, 2008, 15 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
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Wow, such weaving of so many metaphors and images! Very interesting to me the idea of a dream being lost as in a pool of words, or a dictionary. It occurs to me that it is still there, though perhaps hidden. If we know the ABC's of dreaming, we should be able to sort through it all and look up our dream, thus eliminating the broken heart you speak of.
Well done, poet.
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Dreams mean so very much is true, filling the space between now and when, the gap between trying and succeeding, the will to pursue something near or far...and this poem shows so much of this in imagery and metaphor..well done...thank yoi for this fine entry into the contest and best of luck in the judging...Pk
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