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Dream Thing

Terri Winter 1984b2


It’s filled with souls, just too many to count. 

Living and gone, existence some renounced. 

Future and past tense, noise sounded, announced 

for reality teeters and surmounts. 


It’s a dream thing, remembering feelings 

that fill the heart, and sends the head reeling. 

It’s a dream thing, seeing faces of loved 

ones that gone for now, far, far, far, above. 


A dwelling of kindred my eyes beheld 

with heart breaks mounting as time ticked, and ebbed. 

Emotions rained, tear drops filled flower beds; 

still seconds lingered within me, and swelled. 


It’s a dream thing, remembering faces 

of those dear to my heart, and soul traces. 

Within my mind I hear their words dally, 

while the dream thing coalesces and rallies. 


The guardian threatens to banish me 

away from the gathering, in the trees. 

It appears striped, and full of entreaties  

that amuse and somewhat frightening me.


T.M. Prada

Copyright © 2015

Pretty Patience

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Simulated statuary stalemates 

in the warm spring sunlight, streaming, statements. 

Would you whisper sonnets of innocence 

in times cooperating amulets? 

Or slowly wait on flipping butterflies, 

fluttering happily on quaint zephyrs? 


Pretty patience postulates penitence, 

dreaming petunias and patios. 

Should we create great sagas of heroes 

awaiting word in beaming, reticence? 

Or gradually slide to quarrel styles 

ringing booming voices for miles? 


Stimulated starlight struggles and stands, 

flowing particles still somewhat, stable. 

Could you croon songs, sounding adorable 

in words known that almost all understand? 

Or passively delay blooming roses 

motioning in daylight wilting poses? 


Pretty patience perturbs peak perspective, 

perpetuating perpetrators still. 

Will we pen poems arranged in such skills 

that echoes sadness in retrospectives? 

Or reluctantly fall for arguments 

that stifles life – merely, shifts and augments? 


Superficial supernovae swamps 

my creative imagination’s smiles. 

Do you sing songs of independent wiles 

filling memories that emit like lamps? 

Or pragmatically linger on whim 

with words spoken, spreading some satire thin? 


T.M. Prada 

Copyright © 2015

Paint It



Abstract in notion and new as the moon, 

build this emotion; give me some leg room. 

Glimpse my equation and fill paragraphs 

in styled sensations; construct petraglyphs. 


Paint me a picture or sketch charcoal skies 

in magnificence; craft me stanza fries 

unable to consume only one morsel. 

Paint me an omage; stitch blank tinsels. 


Hypothetical with reality 

boons stimulate me; give me quality. 

Glance my philosophy and determine 

truth throughout action makes your feet sanguine. 


Paint the universe or remote planets 

with bold acrylics; design stellar jets 

flying between worlds with dreamers aboard. 

Paint the moment with words that glide and soar. 


Imagination broadens elation, 

compose temptation’s evalutation. 

View my vantage and stimulate stations 

with star rotations; sing small orations. 


Paint it; the picture stirs for renewal 

that now begs, cries, and pleads to continue. 

Open your mind to untold creation; 

paint it. It acquiesces for completion. 


T.M. Prada 

Copyright © 2015

Sunlight in the Universe

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Have you noticed emanations shining 

beams of starlight beyond the lithosphere? 

Sample systems mystery blinding 

in expectation of bright atmosphere. 


Illuminations create this blue world, 

bringing sunlight into the universe. 

Would you imagine life somehow absurd 

without my sunlight in the universe? 


Does all existence revolve around you 

entertaining nulling information? 

Or should we hold our breath for something new 

while redundancy holds simulations?


Fill my world with your loving, caring, words

creating sunlight in my universe. 

Singularities of adoring bards 

organize sunlight in the universe. 


Planets motionless for microseconds 

applaud audacity in emotion. 

Situated in thoughts wordsmiths beckon 

lovers of sunlight in their universe. 


T.M. Prada 

Copyright © 2015

Starlight Dazzles

Michigan at night


Manufactured from miniscule star-dust, 

propensity to dead super novae. 

Mythology builds constellation lust, 

owning life created in long sagas. 


Sing songs to the heavens imagining, 

formations of atoms build molecules. 

Starlight dazzles in children’s eyes shining, 

and capturing youth’s unique solitude. 


Campers gaze under nighttime, studded, skies, 

envisioning alien worlds beyond 

science fiction fantasy’s only spies, 

who reside where dreams and nightmares now, spawned. 


Starlight dazzles in our tapestry sewn, 

twinkling gems glistening in atmospheres. 

Starlight dazzles in celestial shows 

parading at dusk throughout darkened spheres. 


Physicists and astronomers survey 

curtains of blackened, sparkling, firmament. 

Wonder accrued must wander far astray 

in quests of explorer’s temperament. 


Starlight dazzled me from adolescence 

over my captioned, burgeoning, lifetime. 

Starlight dazzles after evanescence 

when star-dust collides, creating new rhymes. 


T.M. Prada 

Copyright © 2015

Remember Adventure

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Images forming fragments not real

memories forgotten within dreams. 

Litanies taught, choirs sing surreal, 

endangering reality’s seams.

Questions of divinity inquired

sealing fates of virgins, knights, and squires. 


Remember sentences of duty, 

acquired while in utero and birth. 

Adventures skewed and true beauty 

lies in the heart of creation’s hearth. 

Remember implied honor bestows 

limited quality of controls. 


Psychics squander life’s sincerity 

in between pandering and lying. 

Truth eloquent in severity 

stamps out feeling, and logic’s scrying

Inquisitive souls investigate, 

while liars block facts and instigate. 


Remember structured lewd quantity, 

embarks on stolen moments darkened. 

Adventurers heed duality 

as authentic active orphans. 

Remember lives undaunted meanings 

fills hopeful quester’s travel beaming. 


Children understand authentic scopes, 

pointing at heaven’s dots, dust, and stars. 

Simplistically defining hopes, 

they beautify the ugliest scars. 

Innocence revisited conceives 

that true adventure never deceives. 


Remember adventure builds and renews 

refilling the spirit’s energy. 

Adventurers remember issues 

requiring returning effigies. 

Remember adventure stimulates 

while hazards and mazes correlate. 


T.M. Prada

Copyright © 2015




Blur moments beyond focus’ sights, 

an inconvenient emphasis. 

Bring out darkness; shed some needed light, 

into grounded, sane hypothesis. 

Become natural, animal, hues, 

in colors that beg to continue. 


Capture my heart’s young, explorations, 

moments in time’s fearless, intentions. 

Who do you think you’re into countenance

limiting life’s wild-like happenstance? 

Create innate interpretations, 

cornering bold imaginations. 


Dare to dream in cooperation, 

witnessing thorough simulations. 

Deliver private stipulations, 

allowing unknown adulation. 

Decide before this final moment,

regressing without any token.


Capture my soul’s rampant, starvation;

it’s rendered inside indignation.

Why do you think you’re alone without, 

hoping and praying for laughs and shouts. 

Create gem, included formations, 

adding love’s utmost hesitations. 


Blur images into frank snapshots, 

junctures twinkling, begetting brightness. 

Bring happiness to forget-me-nots,

emphasizing overt, shy, slightness. 

Become artists in Nature’s palette, 

unrequited, aware of ballots. 


And capture songs sung sadly, fine tuned. 

And blur photographs, finely printed. 

And dare simulations slightly, hewn.

And adhere to dreams freshly minted. 

And create something sparsely new. 

And communicate; yes, continue. 


T.M. Prada 

Copyright © 2015

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