Tag Archives: dream

The Architect

He had a plan,

a dream really.

He was going to build

the most beautiful mansion

for him and his future wife to live in.

It would be where they would laugh,



throw parties,

live life and grow old together.

It would be their sanctuary from the world,

their piece of peace.

All that would matter is that it would be their’s,


and he was going to build it.

His midnight thoughts were consumed with this grand project,

instead of his girl laying next to him.

He had all the blueprints,

the best laid plans,


French doors,

marble counter tops,


acres and acres of gardens.

It would all be for her,

it would take years,

but it would all be for her.

He kept it a secret,

he wanted this house to be a surprise.

But in his endeavors,

he grew distant,

skipped Sunday movie night,

didn’t showed up for dates,

even when he did, he seemed far off in his own world.

Little did his girlfriend know was that

he was dreaming of their future,

but couldn’t stay in the present.

Little did she know

Little did she know

Little did she know

Finally, she had enough

enough waiting

enough being let down

enough being put on the sidelines

Little did the Architect know about how she felt

Little did the Architect know about how she felt

Little did the Architect know about how she felt

Finally, the mansion was ready

enough walls painted

enough missing time with his girlfriend

enough calls about the house that he had to cover up

She said the two words before he did

She said “break up”

He said “marry me”

The Architect built something magnificent for his magnificent

but all he was left with was the shell and not the reason

Too much of his time was built on a future to never happen

He had a plan,

a dream really.

He was going to build

the most beautiful mansion

for him and his future wife to live in.

It would be where they would  . . .




Do not put me on a pedestal

Do not dare put me on a pedestal

It’s too high up in the air if when I fall

Clouds, birds, stars

are meant for way up and above the sky

People are not

We are meant to be grounded

To be able to look up

and down

We are meant to stare at a person’s face,

not their feet

Pedestals are small and high

oh so very high

high with the birds,

the things supposed to be hoped on

I’ve learned that


it’s harder to carry everyone’s hopes, dreams, ambitions

than their burdens

Look at my face

My eyes

Do not put me on a pedestal

an oh so very high pedestal

Do not dare put me on a pedestal.




N@ncyN@nce via Foter.com / CC BY

The Cost

We can dream dreams of grandeur

of expensive things

of exotic places

of opulent people

of glorious actions

that some of the best events

that some of the best moments

of our lives

must cost us the most.

We can dream dreams of grandeur

but finding the simplicity in reality

I discovered,

are the best events

best moments

of our lives.

And the only cost

is to take the time to enjoy it.


Delusions Vs. Allusions

I am no dreamer

Creating Holland meadows of tulips

out of the daring dandelion growing in the crack in the broken sidewalk

I am no dreamer

Conjuring Olympic gold medals for swimming

when I just learned the back stroke

I am no dreamer

but I do dabble a little in daydreams

My dreams are not as high as the Kilimanjaro

Nor as vast a child’s cry in Africa

My dreams are the small hills of corn fields in Nebraska

My dreams are the length of one corner to the other in a smile

My dreams are not loud and pumpkin carriages

but kept to my private thoughts and fresh made pies in a dwarf cottage

I am no dreamer

I make do not make delusions of grandeur

I make allusions of hope


The world isn’t giving me hope

So I create a little of my own.

Like Fireworks Underwater

Like Fireworks Underwater

I can imagine it

The spray nipping at my face from the explosion

A muffled boom

The color majestically mixing with the sea green

My neck doesn’t hurt from staring up, but gazing down

‘Ahhh’ reflect off of the lake and do not melt in the misty dark

Sparks drown

I can imagine it

but it is impossible

The imagination allows us to be in the realm of the unreal

We believe, out of necessity, that we can make the unreal, real

We need a hope

Striving to make this world ‘farther from the actual, and nearer to the imaginative’*

That hope comes from something so fragile

Ohhh, how fragile the mind is

Playing make-believe with real lives and excepting it to turn out like my Grandma’s apple pie

Sometimes life isn’t sweet

so we like to dream up something better

Living Reveling in the unreality

A reality of millionaires

A reality of true loves

A reality of peace

A reality of no persecution

A reality of equality

A reality of Okay-ness

A reality of happiness

A reality of fairy tales

A reality of no short straws pulled

A reality of no tooth aches

A reality of Hakuna Matata

A reality of power

A reality of dreams

A reality such as this is very unlikely

But what is hope supposed to be then?

Sugar Plums aren’t dancing in my head,

Underwater Fireworks are.

Foter / CC BY-SA

Foter / CC BY-SA

  • * From The Custom-House of the Scarlet Letter by Nathaniel Hawthorne

Dreams Upon Disney

A dream is a wish your heart makes, when you’re fast asleep

But what if I dream only in nightmares?

What is my wish?

My subconscious wishes to face my fears so that my conscience will be free

To make a wish


When you wish upon a star

You make a dream

A dreamy wish is not reality

But sometimes we just want to wish

but don’t wish to dream


To wish upon a star

To come true

You need the fiery passion of the core of the star

to accomplish the task from dream

to reality

Once upon a dream

I made a wish

Now I don’t want it


Someday my prince will come

He came

Look above

Falling Outside of a Dream

I am falling, falling with no end. Everything is just swirling past me and I can’t grab on to any of it. The light is quickly receding and soon it is pitch black, total darkness, the time when night mares come out. I wish that this was just a night mare I just fall; the only sound is my own thoughts tumbling from my brain. I don’t know where I am, or how I got here. Soon I don’t even know my own name, because all the thoughts have tumbled out of my head.

I reach around wildly for someone to hold on to, someone to comfort a nameless child. Then, I learn I am all alone, no one is falling with me. Every cell is telling me to scream for help, to let someone know I am falling. But will they even care? To myself and everyone else I am a nameless girl just falling in darkness with no memory. Is anyone looking for me? Does anyone love me? Then I scream, at my own thought of horror. When will I hit the bottom? Will I feel pain and die alone in darkness with all of my questions unanswered? Or will I feel nothing because I haven’t felt anything in so long? Will I ever die? Will I just fall for eternity? Feeling defeated, I just closed my eyes and let the darkness be my tomb. And still I fall.

I have no memory of what something felt like, looked liked, smelled like, of what it sounded like. The only thing in my memory was words and falling. I try to put together the things I know. I am a girl, I am falling, and this is not a dream, this is real, this is not in my mind. That is all the information I know.  But words are the doorway to the world; a doorway to making my world. Words to make a world. A world of words.

Rain. Sun. Dust. Hands. Running. Grass. Computer. Laughing. Lion. Don’t cry because it’s over smile because it happened.

None of these mean anything to me. They are just jumbles of letters and sounds I can’t hear let alone understand.

Lips. Breath. Eyes.

The lips parted in a slight gasp of surprise, the eyes widened in confusing but also in all knowing that it’s final moments had come. In a last act of life, it breathed. The eyes turned vacant and staring, staring, staring, staring. A staring star had fallen. 

The lips parted, a slight vacuum of the mouth unleashed. Eyelids slide smoothly back to reveal iris that express momentary peace. Tongue slightly touching against teeth. Air rushed past the bristles of the tongue, a hold against the air, and then an out-blowing. A streaming tunnel of gas rippled the warmly-brown steaming liquid. Ripple, Ripple, Ripple. A ripple in the world of words. 

Car. Tree. Child.

Slight twist of the steering wheel, hands loosely grasping the leather. Eyes pivot with head to view child in back seat. Looking to the front of the vehicle through smoggy smoke at the tree that was half way up the engine compartment. Air bag deployed and the child was without a mother. Colliding, colliding, colliding, colliding. Worlds colliding and destroying one another, or could they be creating?

Slight twist of the steering wheel, led to a view through the mouth of the concrete tunnel into a tunnel of nature’s own design. The mind of the child gaped at the rows of ever upward reaching trees. Views of crimsons, golds, maroons, fading and falling emeralds, and sunset red-yellow filled the child with awe. Fading, Fading, fading, Fading. Moments fading into memories fading into flashes before death’s eyes. 

How can I know such things? But I do, memories and moments, mine or not I do not know. I have sensed death and life and peace and wonder. I have made a world. A world of knowledge.

A great pain rushed through out my whole body and a high pitched shriek escaped from my mouth. The scream rang through out the tunnel of falling darkness, the scream pure torture to my ears. I had hit the bottom of my falling tunnel of darkness. As I lay there, one thought comes to me. I will not fall for eternity. I will not die with all my questions unanswered. I have answered the question of life, of family, of childhood, of soothing. Now I will experience something on my own. I am a girl with worlds and words and a lost life that will be lost all over again.

And I will die with knowledge as my only friend.