Gals’ Day Out

In this edition of the Poet’s Dream Medium Magazine, we feature some of the work from the gals of Poet’s Dream. To be fair, we’ll have some of the guy’s work in the next installment. In the meantime, sit back, relax and enjoy some poetry.

Chris Frazier


What looks back at me
reflecting from the mirror
the camera lens
this picture
is the ghost of myself
an incomplete version
an image vaporous and vacant
a solid to shadow conversion
eyes looking forsaken
when trying to speak
my voice goes to echo
fading, whispered
quietly hollow
unfocused features I begin fearing
visibly, audibly disappearing
I fade
until practically transparent
my ghost self becoming inapparent
soon, with little left to see
you’ll need to look quickly
or you might just miss me…

© 2016 — Chris Frazier

Skylark Hatee

The Woman Who Walks:

I am she…
One who walks out of the bas-relief 
of your dreams
Woman of the fourth century peering into the twenty first
A figure etched in stone and frozen in time 
Yet eternally walking towards some unbeknownst destiny
For there is much that my eyes perceive

I am she who is timeless and ageless 
For I was born out of the breath of Muses
A woman who is tethered in between two worlds
That of stone and the other springing from your vision of me

Was it your thought/some whispered imagining
Which teased me forth out of my stony sanctuary 
Was it the voices of children in the streets 
That pulled at the maternal heartstrings within me
Or was it simply that I became weary of spending all my days as a bas-relief?

Whatever may be the reason for the image I conjure
I am she who walks since time immemorial 
Walking into your century by crossing that interstice of your heart 
That tiny portal in time and space 
Which brought me as a sign of grace

And so I shall walk for the downtrodden and helpless
I shall walk for the ill and aged 
As well as those who have been handled by the hands of neglect
I shall walk for the people of this earth and earth herself 
Because there has been too much blood and tears that have been spilt

For know this: I am GRADIVA*
I am she who walks out of the sutures of your inner cries
Breaking free from time’s claws

…walking for humanity’s cause

*Gradiva: Roman bas-relief which was probably fashioned around the 4th century BC. Today she is known as “The woman who walks.”

Taylor H.

Lost Within Myself

There is absolutely 
No question 
That you have 
Stolen my dreams.
Not only that,
You’ve redirected
Them to a new way.
One I wouldn’t have 
Picked myself.
I’ve chosen water
Over wine, but
You’ve made me
Crave the tart, sweet 
Fire of wine.
I’ve chosen the 
Peace of the day 
Over the wild passion
Of the Moon, but
You’ve made me
Yearn to see what
The darkness holds.
I’ve chosen the safe side 
Of life, but
You’ve made me want
To be courageous enough 
To see what I could really be.
You have made me question 
Things I have never questioned 
Before in my entire life.
What secrets can be uncovered 
By your hand?
What side of myself have I
Buried within that only
You can dig up?
You’ve opened up a whole new 
View of the world to me.
This is all so hard to swallow.
How can I ever feel like myself again?
You’ve ripped my life-view from my grasp.
You’ve left me stranded in the ever changing 
Ocean of the world we live in.
You have shaken me so much 
I’ve lost my hard-won sense of direction.
I’ve tried so hard to get where I am,
But, that too, has been taken from me
By your sly hand and smooth talk.
You brought me wonder and adventure,
But you’ve also thrusted upon me
Apprehension, uncertainty, and indecisiveness.
I found who I was, and you’ve replaced that
With a daring pursuit to know more.
Now I’m lost
Within myself
Clinging to my former self
Like it’s my lifeboat for life.
And you watch as I drown.

© 2016 — Taylor H.

Marilyn Ward

Sweet Water

Let the waters play 
Musical rendition 
To welcome the day 
Sing a song of nature’s delight 
Birds and bees swift reply 
A sip or two on passing by 
The sweet water

© 2016 — Marilyn Ward

Debbie Green Razey

The Marching Dead

It’s not pride…
but sadness I see
Mind’s caged…
yearning to be free

Feeling alien…
even amongst their own
Guilt and shame…
self-loathing has sown

by a world gone insane
Facades failing…
to disguise their pain

It’s not pride…
but sadness I see
Mind’s caged…
yearning to be free

Feeling empty…
without a hand to hold 
Hearts sever…
as another family folds

Feather beds…
replaced by concrete floors
The Marching Dead…
lost souls, displaced by wars

It’s not pride…
but sadness I see
Mind’s caged…
yearning to be free

No wounds visible…
damaged deep inside
Lives destroyed…
some parade, some hide

Wreaths are laid…
but not their ghosts 
Tears fought back…
drowned in drunken toasts
It’s not pride…
there’s only sadness I see
Mind’s caged…
by Combat P.T.S.D.

Saccheen Poetic Laing

I give my soul to this man 
I pour my love into filling him and then I watch it spill
What spills he takes and he gives 
Filling his many mistresses while I’m yet to be refilled
He shakes and shakes from the heaviness of the love I gave 
But his frame never breaks 
He still shines as he appeals to thirsty women
Dehydration was my past now I’m replenished 
He no longer spills the love I had to give 
What a tall glass of nothing he is

Portia Burton


Delicate evening flowers
Have opened their hearts,
Their petals tremble
On the swell of subtle scent.
May this fragrant wave
Engulf your soul,
May the maroon muslin of dusk
Lave your skin.

Feel the silk of shadows
Gently caress your face,
While leaves billow in the breeze
In tandem with your breaths.

Submit to this tranquil hour,
Blissful as a blossomed bower.

Heike Wolf-Mueller


I listen
to the clear
voice within
each of my
emotions speak

always reflecting
different states
of my thinking

am I happy
or sad
do I feel love
or hate

are like teachers
their news about
my thoughts

an opportunity to
grow by
getting aware of
my inner feelings
which communicate
with my awareness
only to encourage,
my true self
to unfold

as time moves on
I am able to choose to
let bravely drop my masks
in faith, love and forgiveness
walking my own path of destination…..

Elusive Me

Forever more…
I feel the ache within the bones of love,
In shallowed breaths I call in stifled cries,
My whispered sobs seek butterflies above,
For I am caught, adrift, as time denies,
I wait my love, I wait to kiss your sighs,
On tender dreams, I fall in love with you,
Entwined with threads, I know you feel it too.

Between the miles, between the ticks of time
Broad smiles abound, from laughter of our play,
Love ever near, in heartbeats you are mine
Til black of night, fades soft the light of day
And with it too the warmth your words convey,
Hold tight my love, please knit my soul to yours,
As we make use of times enduring flaws.

I never knew the strength I’d find inside,
The lengths I’d fray to keep you in my heart,
No shadows cast could cause our love to hide
For nothing on this earth could make us part,
Though long it seems that we did wait to start,
A life once dimmed has found a new desire,
For you my love, have set my heart on fire.

So as the stars burn high up in our sky,
The promises we made entwined with care,
Will hold fast to the wishes you and I,
Sewed deftly to the tapestry we share,
To always and forever each be there,
For never were two so entwined at core
Than hearts of love, now joined, forever more.

Maria Elvira Fernandes Correia


Aggression rising, bullying
Juvenile violence
Concern to parents and society
Also, government must invest
In future grown ups
Childhood traumas
Abandonment by parents
Physical abuse, neglecting
Living in care centers
Drive youngersters to crime
Brutality and suffering in childhood
Expresses the fury of both
Children and grown ups
Adulthood is a reflection of
Children contact to delinquency
Father figure redirect the balance
Family is haven to bring up
Support on difficult circumstances
It will intervene in disruption of aggressiveness
And mold character
Help and support makes difference
At home, at school
The Target is developing a sense of worth
When raised in a solid foundation
We notice an increasing
In morality, discipline, self esteem
The well being of a child
It will develop the personality of an adult 
A feeling of failure must be cut 
To alleviate mind
And go toward success 
We cuddle ours in a fortress 
Based on morality, responsability and character
As the solution and maintenance against
Violence and further problems.

Diane Hughes

Where Have All The Flowers Gone

The sun lies within the shadows of stone
as autumnal winds scatter summer’s ashes; 
tears of sorrow flow from raw wounds of truth
as darkness eclipses my aching soul.

Fate screams from the emptiness of silence 
as whispered breath of mine own confession 
remains in perpetual suspension of diminished
rainbows and prismatic lifetime dreams.

Words become a silent grave as hope transforms
into tiny wisps curling o’er painful realization and 
brokenness whilst jagged edges of folded paper
roses pierce my heart as I succumb to darkness.

The distant moon becomes a mimic of ev’ning sunsets
only visible to my memories, leaving me questioning
where have all the flowers gone as blind storms
unleash lightening; a resonance to mine eyes void.

© 2016 — Diane Hughes

Tessie Clune

Today, Tomorrow

Today I have the Faith
Of a Child
A free Spirit running
A Destiny to run
Embracing the
Like a Girl kneeling
Before every
No longer giving into

© 2016 — Tessie Clune

Make sure you visit Poet’s Dream for more original and inspiring poetry.

Poet’s Dream
Community (Google+)