dream nexus poems
a world for writers and poetry, post beat, performance, anything...
Saturday 7 January 2023
Saturday 27 March 2021
Love Motes Map
Motes,
castle dreams
Lazily ascending float.
As end portal
phone line of light is
Telling me these
afternoons
stay awhile.
So live
like magpie
chortle captures
All fray nights as flights,
As he insights
air back to freedom.
A live reclining chair whim
on mind of breezes
humble beginnings
and tiny shifts grinning
poised for
all one -
no reason.
That which breaks lengths
of photonic waves making
Platonic spider caves of sunsets
Into learnings.
Which are burnings
shriftful-pupil of paramour.
Which breaks to write!
Autumn smiles,
old balances,
Go!
Harvest!
magnetica!
Take this poem
to your dust bed,
I will know you tomorrow,
The place space port
orb flung will fall back,
align gaze signatures.
Charred ships
may smoke
From hope,
running along
Our contours.
No tv capitals inside
Our bubble brackets
of time.
That
Forever...
all movies are ours,
Your wings to fill my home,
The dot
in the dot
in the dot...
The perfect spinning of us,
The celestined unlock,
The slow big momentums
Life-slide-dock, home,
Mandelbrot...
#lightislove #poetryoftime #poetryoflight #poems #poetryofsunset #poet #poemsofloveandlife #poetryofinsta #poetryramble #mystylepoetry #poetryofsoul #poetrymagick #poetryofautumn #poetrydream #meditation #poetrylover #melbspokenword #melbournepoetry
Sunday 22 November 2020
An Apple falls in a Dream of our Forest
Friday 4 September 2020
Friday 14 August 2020
Saturday 30 May 2020
Family of Light Poem
Thursday 17 August 2017
Anyway, Waterfall...
#oldpostbeatpoem #odetothedreamer Stuck on the last page of the poetry book blues, BB king died the other day and Nuthin new to be news but news is a trap, Now is like my kids today while autumn Not yet falling to winters crystal sunlight and the some leaves still clinging, Like how now is too beautiful to express And a violence in splashing too many rocks into a side of the forrest walk wishing pond, so small and graceful it could be for fairies, now is I can’t tell you what they wished for nor what they’re dreaming of now in peace spacesuit breathings beatitude, now thinking my adult attitude over complex, rememories of why I had to leave the poetry gig early and caught all Lego piece light words for moth switch right anyway upon just the right metaphor, two Hindu men that day pointing to my aum badge and saying things like O that’s the why of the world! The fork of the river! and yes it had a beautiful longer version anyway and the beautiful people were too painfully curved into bad capitalistic machines not toys made of the parking metre, yet, why is always too beautiful for this old tree stone from the hills… all the meanings left behind I can’t remember, for now is a silent deep well that the moon leaves in the sun, especially when that girl who I thought connect realizes I’m gone a leap of the last verb, And cockatoos are some of the most playful birds for no reason, spirals for any no reason there on facebook in no one’s everyone, simple wondering what stuck together songs and stories gunna build themselves tomorrow outta ordinary, what excuses for air currents swirl on end-of-light shadow ball wall outta memes and themes such as Whitman randomly poking his face out of a frame on my table and with lifted bushy eyebrow, telling me; “why yes son Maya is the dreamer and Heidegger is a hydrogen seashell left upon a powerline on Brunswick rooftop near a waterfall, but you knew that didn’t you?” and yes its all gunna collapse when ink pin steps forth and drops anyway, in the mean time I finally lit my writers candle in my darkness and am breathing, so look; the unicorn herds run across the blue grass sky, the naked men and women who ride them never needed to wear clothes their whole lives and the cashless catchless knowing of who does what in their society, and the don’t worry, now is the hazy ‘ol green not-too-real ground in fuzzy smile, a centre up that thinks it’s all too perfect to anyhow, and so spaceships with Elizabethean bathtubs fly by…