Dreams, story telling poetry written by Tony Corkery

1. Dreams

Enter the world of dreams,
Where nothing is what it seems.
Understanding the myth and mystic,
And dreams become almost realistic.

To hear the chants of folk lore,
To dance and feel it's powerful draw.
To smell and taste their worlds within,
To see where our dreams begin.

"Blasphemy" the sceptics all accuse,
For their world is small and obtuse.
Seeing through an unopened mind;
Fear of the unknown is all they find.

So take my hand and read to your will,
With love and fantasy your mind will fill.
Come enter my world of dreams,
Where nothing is what it seems.

2. Platform

Standing on his platform,
Only he can see.
Life at it's best,
Life through his reality.

Standing on his platform,
Wearing his armour of cloth,
He sees not a soul;
So he incurs no-ones' wrath.

Passer-byes see him stand,
Closed umbrella aiming for the sky.
Black shirt, white tie and grey suit;
Black briefcase held roughly chest high.

He sees them naught,
For he holds the sword of light,
His armour of ancient tradition,
Not to mention the shield of a knight.

Standing on any platform,
As anyone can surely see.
Life has it's splendour;
Life has it's beauty.

3. Parallel Lines

He looks down the snaking parallel lines,
And sees the beast approach with electric speed.
Patiently he waits for it to come closer,
Then he boards and to warnings he pays heed.

From within the carriage the beast does carry,
He sees a different world pass him by;
Through endless villages with no countryside,
To the castles that seemingly scrape the sky.

He leaves the beast and now journeys on foot,
Through the closed in markets and open alleys.
He makes a mental note of all the peasants;
To count them it would be never-ending tallies.

He enters an inn of the cooking sort,
Deciding to have his break fast meal.
Tempting urges rise that he can't subside,
Seeing the wench’s buttocks he must have a feel.

Before leaving he pays for his fill,
Continuing with his journey once again,
He knows he must council with his brothers,
Before the clouds turn into rain.

4. Council

He joins with his brothers,
Be they brothers in crime.
Deciding wrong from right,
Determining lengths of time.

Arguing about who shall fight,
The skirmishes to be fought.
And if there is need of a referee,
Can that referee be bought?

Then it's off to the arena,
Asking for the truth complete.
Until absolution is resolved,
The rumours are kept discreet.

When the fight is at an end,
He rejoins council with his brothers.
Discussing what took place that day,
And tomorrow will there be others.

5. About Turn

He leaves his brothers in their den,
Starting another journey to where he began.
No time for any dilly dally,
There's no time for any fun.

He passes by the cooking place,
Noticing that it is now full of peasants.
The markets and alleys are all but bare,
Empty of their barters and idle presents.

He paces himself towards the gathering,
A place totally overrun by peasants and gentry.
He has to find the beast that bore him,
A solution apparently not so elementary.

He boards his carriage the beast does bear,
Passing through the villages at a great rate.
His temper frays from being shunted around,
Like sheep in pens he gets irate.

The doors open to his relief but then,
He is sucked out by human stampede.
Lifting himself from the platform floor,
He dusts himself knowing there is no need.

6. Home fire

He walks past yet another corner,
On the pitch blacked put path.
Almost on the verge of near exhaustion,
He wishes the distance was only half.

The sun is set in the west,
The horizon is encompassed with a red glow.
Darkness is approaching from the east,
The Evening star is beginning to grow.

He passes inns and other abodes,
Then in his heart he feels a yearning.
Before he even turns he can smell it,
And now he sees the Home fire burning.

The journey that took forever,
Is but one world's turning.
He sees their windowed silhouettes,
They wait in patience for his returning.

His footsteps echo upon the path,
His faithful hound barks with delight.
The door opens with arms opened wide,
Happy that their man's home for the night.

7. Away

The darkness echoes with the rain,
For such is this earliest of hours.
She has prepared the morning meal;
Her warrior is off to fight the evil powers.

His engagements seem never ending,
She rarely sees him at all.
She loves him with all her heart,
Treasuring the moments together, however small.

He finishes his meal and brew,
Leans over to kiss her upon the cheek.
He openly expresses his love for her,
And for their children ever so meek.

From the door he blows her a kiss,
He has left her for another day.
This ritual occurs day in and day out,
But it still saddens her when he is away.

8. Chores

Sessim detests the awful word "chores".
It's like an ever threatening plague.
Chores nevertheless have to be done,
But whilst doing them she's quite vague.

Dishes, a never ending pile;
No sooner has she finished,
One but another tends to appear.
Some clean, others covered with spinach.

Dusting, where does it all come from?
Her warrior tells her that it is their skin;
How could she possibly believe that,
If true she would have noticed somethin'.

Sweep, clean, and mop the floors.
Wipe, polish, and screen the windows.
No appreciation is forthcoming,
But deep in her heart she knows.

Constantly preparing meals,
Forever getting the kids ready.
If a mere male had to do this,
It would make him quite heady.

9. Gossip

All the chores are out the way,
Time to relax and have a chat.
Sessim bundles the kids and walks,
To see a friend who lives out back.

The children are placed in a room,
Her friend offers her a cup of coffee.
Sessim offers a tobacco joy in turn,
Then mentions that she'd prefer a cup of tea.

"Did you know Mabels doing George,
And that Marg is doing John?
Not to mention that John is doing George,
I wonder how the Jones's are getting on?"

This meaningless goes on for an eternity,
Filling the void in a time of nothing.
All good comes to an end,
The passing chat fades into the evening.

10. Sion De Press

The quiet is an unending masquerade of light and dark.
The light is barely embracing the dark foreboding clouds,
that seem to be moving on an unmoving plane.

The sounds that emanate from beneath the rise and fall of the padded feet,
is captured and sped off into the distance.

Unnerving eerie impressions flood and fill the senses with outstanding contradictions.
That is to be in and amongst an active environment, yet to be removed.
Not physically, but more of a mental rift.

In the greyness of dusk the cars ferry by,
some with lights and others not.
They seemingly float by the shops,
who use their lights,
to entice patronage through their doors.

She paces on through the lights,
the noise, and the darkness.
She glances skyward to clear her mind.
It is then, for the first time in her entire existence, that she feels it.
A split in the very fabric of time.
So much more than a portal from one aeon to the next,
but a compelling, almost overbearing,
urge to reach in and grasp that parallel dimension.

She savours the lack, in all of it's unique, tranquil beauty.
The lack of light, noise, and darkness.
To walk alone through the world in as we know it.

11. Night Close

The night has moved back in,
To envelop her life once again.
She prepares for the return of her warrior,
To warm and dry him of the days rain.

They lovingly embrace for a while,
Talking shortly of their days events.
Routinely the routines return,
Meals served, kids to their beds.

The warmth of the open hearth,
Draws them closer to one and other and fire.
Ever so closer the snuggle and embrace,
The night closes sensing each others desires.

12. Bushman

These four walls are my life,
And have been as long as time.
Outside there are many riddles,
In the lattice-work of many a rhyme.

Content within an abstract place,
Where everything is out of my reach.
Helped along by the bigger ones,
Learning by practising what they preach.

Differentiating between reality and fantasy,
Is a real hard push man!
Dragons and dinosaurs are easy enough,
But not so with the Bushman.

He is everywhere both night and day,
He hears every word I say.
To him, there is no-one to obey,
He is with me in every way.

13. Night Comes

Creatures stir when night comes,
They're born out of still shadows.
Structures are transformed from others,
Lamp poles changing into gallows.

Night light,
Strange light,
Grey light,
Black light.

Hang man,
Sad man,
Bag man,
Fall man.

Our God,
Your god,
A god,
Any god.

The mind races with thoughts within,
Changelings surround me in abundance.
If daylight doesn't break soon,
I'll be encompassed with utter madness.

14. Lanructon

Lanructon is the ruler among them,
Although his form has not yet been seen.
Yet his presence is strongly felt,
And his wits are both sharp and keen.

He rules with a tight rein,
Rhythm and rhyme is not his game.
For his world and it's inhabitants,
Are mirrored and it's definitely no game.

He is so good at what he does,
Able to frighten even the bravest.
His uncanny knack to words,
Like "who can possibly save us?"

Yet I've managed to control him,
On a summers night secret came.
His bearing powers have dissipated,
There's some control in knowing his name.

15. Escape

The decision is set in my mind,
To break open the bonds of prison.
Able to walk one but separate paths,
Surely as light passes through a prism.

Venturing into Lanructon's realm,
I find strength in anonymity.
He knows not who I am,
But his subservients know all about me.

All alone in a complete newness,
No assistance from the Big Ones.
An implosion of exploding sights,
Seen through many setting suns.

I wander about in total wonder,
Saturating my senses with utmost awe.
The chances to see new things,
New people and their differing lore.

16. Blue Lights

What a horrible sound it was,
A screeching to stand hairs on their end.
The screaming seemed to be getting closer,
Blue Lights appeared from the roads bend.

Cautiously I moved on forward,
Using the bushes to cast shadowy forms.
Closer, ever so closer I crept,
Keeping low on the patchy lawns.

Their coverings were all the same,
Their colour echoing in the Blue Light.
They had surrounded a runaway vehicle,
Much like an ambush's prowess of might.

All hell was released in an instant,
Run the ambushed tried but not for long.
They were rounded up like sheep,
Packaged into Blue Lights and were gone.

17. Namerif

They were dancing skyward,
Licking and flicking around the frame.
They were frightening the occupants,
Never to be ever so tame.

Their terror now reigned supreme,
Dancing everywhere and anywhere.
Ultimate control and ultimate chaos,
Able to dance without a care.

They had everybody screaming,
Running loose and hysterical.
They had them all empowered,
With the dance quite majestical.

The screaming's pitch shifted,
It was higher yet quite strong.
Namerif had come to the rescue,
To quench the dancers song.

18. Rek Curt

It was totally awesome,
I've never seen so many wheels.
One after the other they came,
Each hot on the other's heels.

Rek Curt reined in the beast,
Bringing it to a slow stop.
Air rushed out from somewhere,
And out the cab Rek did hop.

I followed him into the shop,
'Tis how I learned his name.
I asked all about his life,
He simply replied "trucking's my game."

He told of a wonderful country,
Seen through the trucks windscreens.
Black river sun up to sun down,
Bordered with incredible scenes.

We bade farewell to each other,
With a roar the beast did start.
As the big rig slowly moved off,
There was a strange yearn in my heart.

19. Opsh Eperke

Her name was hard to pronounce,
Somewhat like a perky whisper.
Her features were almost perfect,
Except under her nose was a whisker.

I found her quite attractive,
Although she was different to me.
Her colour of skin was exotic,
Her long hair as dark as ebony.

She told me that she'd travelled,
From a land so far away.
That there the sun shone constantly,
Virtually keeping the moon away.

We bartered for a while,
Until she discovered I had no money.
But she gave me a wink,
Finding the situation quite funny.

20. Black River

Well Rek wasn't at all wrong,
That is about the Black River.
It's length is beyond immense,
Done my spine it sends a shiver.

In the days that I have travelled,
I'm at wits end about it's course.
It's tributaries are abundant,
And it carries an incredible force.

Species vary from all kinds,
Walking ways change as well.
There's those with noses on the ground,
As well as those suffering from head swell.

Dwellings also differ in style,
From one tributary to the next.
From slums to towering mansions,
Black River is apparently hexed.

The days seem to merge into the next,
I turn to see that Rek was also right.
Shimmering in the distance there's the jungle,
But the wonderful country has me tonight.

I never knew that there was so many stars,
I can even make out the Milky Way.
That stirring in my heart was real,
The Moon has shown destiny the way.

21. Rem Raf

From one horizon to the next,
Black River is as straight as a die.
Adjacent horizons are obscured by fields,
I speak of this scenery as no lie.

An occasional bend changes the river,
Towns grow out of nothingness.
All be they small and somewhat musty,
They are not altogether meaningless.

These towns are the lifeblood,
Of what I use to think were riff raff.
But how I could be so wrong,
About the collectively known Rem Raf.

In a one by one basis,
They appear to be insignificant.
But what they do as a whole,
Is utterly and truly magnificent.

The Rem Raf feed the nation,
Ours as well as others.
Creating jobs direct and indirect,
Which helps the fathers and mothers.

The Rem Raf vary from place to place,
Some sit and watch the grass grow.
They let the sun dry their crop,
Then harvest, weed, and re-sow.

There are others who let theirs run wild,
In the wild Country bordered with fences.
But it doesn't matter what creed of Rem Raf,
I know that they are the nations best defence.

22. A Serpent Called Ni-Art

I stumbled over a piece of steel,
I was amazed that it had a twin.
The steel was like silk thread,
In a race that both worms were eager to win.

In the tales of old,
I'd heard of a serpent called Ni-Art.
I was startled by a pounding,
That was much louder than my own heart.

My eyes followed the parallel lines,
Until they met and became one.
The silk still pounded gently,
But I saw something that would come.

As told in the tales of old,
Ocol did in fact pull Ni-Art along.
As Ocol and Ni-Art came closer,
I could hear her rickety rackety song.

She was as long as miles are;
Her segments differed in shape and size.
She beckoned me to come closer,
To follow as she majestically glides.

Her destination was to be Gold Town,
She said that the journey would be slow.
That if I was to go with her,
I'd learn more than I could ever know.

So I agreed that I would go,
As walking is fun but also tiring.
So, Gold Town here we come,
But for now my mind is retiring.

23. Scenes Between Sleep

Ni-Art had lulled me to sleep,
With her rickety rackety song.
Dream world was truly welcomed,
For I'd been without sleep for so long.

In the twinkling of an eye,
Or so to speak at least,
I saw flashes of great wonder,
As though my soul was being released.

The scenes between my sleeps,
Were incredible to behold,
To tell of their great beauty,
You simply could not be told.

The plains of grasses and their like,
Their size almost breath taking.
From all points of the compass,
Like malignant cancer they spread unforesaking.

From between another dream wake,
Tranquillity has come to my ease.
From all points of the compass,
All I can see is parachute trees.

Sleep embraces me yet again,
And when I awake I am in awe.
A redness as earthly as can be,
Like the land itself had an open sore.

There is a strange kind of feeling,
Once you set foot on this land.
For it gets into your blood,
With it's freedom hand in hand.

24. Gold Town

Night had fallen upon Gold Town,
A night that you could not possibly believe:
Although I was surrounded by heavy machinery,
The freedom I felt was beyond belief.

This is the closest that I can express,
A sensation that purely must be felt.
It's like having four of a Royal Flush,
Then the fifth card to you is dealt.

The machines murmur away continuously,
Yet you can still hear the crickets chirp.
The night, oh the night is sensational;
It's like an incredible pain without the hurt.

From where I view this magnetic scene,
I see Gold Town's lights twinkle with ease.
The day is hot and the night is cool,
For this place my soul does indeed please.

25. Nanny Goat Hill

I had heard of sacred sites,
But had never been close to feel their chill.
As I wandered throughout the Gold Town,
I came across Nanny Goat Hill.

My understandings were turned inside out,
This couldn't possibly be a sacred site.
The natives were camouflaged amongst the rubbish,
And drinking from the flagon was the only rite.

I had to take a few side steps,
To avoid treading on the inhabitants of the hill . . .








Oh hell ! What an incredible pain.
I see stars above me but I'm in darkness.
I'm confined in what appears to be a shaft.
Oh the pain, Oh the foreboding darkness.

26. Blue Light and Bulance Man

They must have heard my screams,
For there's strange lights in the sky.
Well, as much of the sky as I can see,
As the portal slowly stirs to life.

Oh no, the Blue Lights are here,
But they are mixed in confusion with red.
I fear that they will torture me,
Twist and screw with my head.

A rope slaps me across the face,
Awakening me from a dazed state of mind.
The portal darkens only to light up again,
As the figure descends this abandoned mine.

He is a man of the Blue Light's,
But he is surprisingly kind of face.
He beamed a wondrous smile upon me,
Saying "Well, what do you think of this place?"

I released a laugh that this old shaft,
Wouldn't have heard for a long time.
Blue Light Man tied the rope around my waist,
Commenting "It's time to get out of this old mine."

The red lights belonged to the Bulance Men,
Who cared for and mended my injuries.
Upon a stretcher they carried me towards their van,
When Blue Light Man stated, "You'll tell this tale for years."

27. White Coats and Blue Dresses

They wheeled me through the automatic doors,
Then down the passages to casualty.
There were white coats walking briskly,
And blue dresses parading quite casually.

Everything was so clinically white.
Whiter than the moon on a summers night.
The cleanliness had an overpowering odour,
Sending my nostrils into a dance of fright.

They placed me upon a high rise bed,
Scrutinising my injuries and open sores.
I was surprised with my injuries myself,
I looked like I had seen a few wars.

If ever my heart was to ache with desire,
It'll be memories of the caring nurses.
Their manner and touch touched me deeply,
Even when my cries were full of curses.

I was near on a plaster factory,
One broken leg and one fractured arm.
A few lacerations and a couple of bruises,
But all in all lucky that I came to no greater harm.

Blue Light Man asked me who I was,
So I told him that I was Kildren.
A different kind of smile crossed his face,
That's when he informed me about the missing children.

He said that some of us were runaways,
While sometimes we were flights of fancy.
Others were misfortunate victims of crime,
But I was caught up in some wild fantasy.

28. Silver Bird

They informed my parents of my whereabouts,
They were relieved to know that I was alive,
They are coming to Gold Town on Silver bird,
Which should soon enough arrive.

In a way I'm happy,
For I do love them so.
But I do hope they understand,
Why I had to up and go.

Well it's time for me to bid adieu,
To say farewell and good-bye.
For now I'm homeward bound,
On Silver bird who flies so high.

Dreams

Dincara's Lair