The Crows by Pete Dome

The Crows by Pete Dome
Hideous craving raucous crows
Lurk in the dark shrouding  shadows
Of the human soul
The labyrinth of the unconscious mind 
Harbors thoughts trapped 
Within the cobwebs of ravaging time.
During slumber our darkest thoughts 
And fears awake within the confines
Of nightmares wake
As the ferryman awaits
To take you across the scary lake.
To a far off distant land
Where you are bound and tied
By feet and hand
Helpless the scary movie unfolds
Enter the hideous craving raucous crows. 

Nathanial Baines by Peter Dome

Nathanial Baines by Peter Dome
Poor Nathaniel Baines
For it  it never pours
But always rains
The unluckiest lad in the world.
Seven foot tall
Skinny as a lat
Had a nesting bird 
In his Topper hat
Trousers half mast
Holes in his shoes
Holes in his trouser bottom 
Where the wind blew through
Wild starring eyes
Crooked green teeth
Sticking out ears
That in the wind
Flapped lie leaves.
Nathaniel was such an unlucky lad
And I have to say its really sad
When he was three he fell out of a tree
Later caught ring worm rickets and fleas
Once he fell head first in a well
He was there days and it didn’t half smell
Children threw stones and called him names
But they’d always miss
Because of his skinny frame
He’d sway backwards and forwards in he wind
He had his own foul fragrance that lingered 
So you’d know where he’d been
He lived in a rickety smelly house
With Nora the rat and Ethel the paranoid cat.
Everything Nathaniel tried went wrong
He entered the Eurovision song contest
But at the vital moment forgot the song
Always falling in the village pond.
Poor Nathaniel Baines
For it  it never pours
But always rains
The unluckiest lad in the world.
One day out of the blue
Postman Percy said
”Eh Nathaniel got a letter for you”
It says you have won a competition
A cruise and dome travel money too.
Everyone in the village were so pleased
”Our Nathaniel’s won a trip overseas”
The Mayor declared a  holiday
Where locals danced and children played.
”At last it seemed Nathaniel’s lick has changed hurrah!.
Te day came and Nathaniel packed his bags  
And even wore his smartest rags
And headed  for he ship
Crowds gathered to wave him off
As the ship slipped away
On Nathaniel’s grand day
He looked down at his ticket 
And what did it say?
1st class ”Titanic’
Poor Nathaniel Baines
For it  it never pours
But always rains
The unluckiest lad in the world.
When news broke
The village locals were very sad
Poor old Nathaniel wasn’t that bad
They even erected a statue in the town
But with Nathaniel’s luck that fell down.
They say in the village at night
They see his ghost wander around
And he leaves his smell in the ground.
Poor Nathaniel Baines
For it  it never pours
But always rains
The unluckiest lad in the world.
Peter Dome. Copyright.2016 July


THE DREAM CAME TO HAUNT MY SLEEP LAST NIGHT Image result for spiderBy Pete Brammer

The dream came to haunt my sleep last night,
As it has many times before,
For there I am, alone at night,
Locked up, in a hardware store.
A massive spider with hairy legs,
Stares down through large black eyes,
Making me feel the terror,
He imparts to those trapped flies.
I try to escape, but he’s far too quick,
Soon trapped in his sticky web,
To be rolled inside a cocoon of silk
Fearing I’ll soon be dead
My heart pounds loud, within my chest,
As he spins me round and round,
Will I be recognisable?
In the future, when I’m found.
That’s when I wake up from my dream,
Still frightened, I suppose,
In what looks like, a rats nest,
Wrapped tightly, in bed clothes.



By David R Graham

In the realm of hypnopompia

In transit between wakefulness and sleep

I am conscious that I tread on endless flights of stair

I have no notion where my pointless tramping it will cease,

Nor can I point to any landing and say, ‘I started out from there.’


I feel the rough stone treads beneath my feet

And press the cold and seamless walls,

That hem me to my left and to my right,

And force me up or down these shadowed wells.


In this borderland of consciousness and sleep

My false awakening is a vivid and convincing dream,

Wherein I know that I am not awake

And that my constant treading on these stairs

Is an ordeal I am powerless to forsake.


And yet, within my powerlessness, I know

That I must find a way to free myself

From this constant going up and going down again

And so I strive to hear the breaking power of ticking time,

That will with shrill alarm these stairwells break.


But what price time, when I am not awake?

Time has no meaning here in this hypnopompic state,

Where every sense is radically enhanced and

Witnessed in the rapid movement of my shuttered eyes.

Yet knowing in my dream, that I am still in slumber,

Avails me no advantage or control

For I have no power to rouse myself

from my pointless tramping role.


Up and down these stairs I go.

Or is it down and up? I do not know.

I perceive no purpose to this constant rise and fall

Nor do I know ere my ascending and descending

Will take me anywhere at all.

How long will I endure this ordeals pointless toil?

I do not know. For I perceive no point in time

Where at my travail will be done.


Though I sleep. I am lucid, conscious, sentient, and aware

I feel the stone and sense I tramp these stairs alone

For I perceive no others come or go,

From whom I might learn the purpose of the stair.


But now I sense that time is pressing in

To separate the walls that guide my course

And time brings with it light,

That fades the steps beneath my feet

And makes me fear a fall.


I lurch and flail for something firm to hold

And bolt awake on tousled bedding sheet

Then fall back grateful with relief,

That I am freed from hypnopompia’s captivating sleep.


THE STUDY OF DREAMS by Cynthia Smith

THE STUDY OF DREAMS by Cynthia Smith

Studying such an ephemeral subject as dreams is problematical, as each person has their own sleeping thoughts locked in their heads. Some people insist that they don’t dream, but this is because on waking to reality their somnolent thoughts and images are wiped from their memory. Everyone dreams. It has been proven that people who are blind from birth experience dreams, even though they can see nothing.

What is a dream? Some theories have deduced that dreams are the mind’s way of working out the events of the day, or previous days. Recurring dreams seem to indicate that the dreamer is worried or frightened about something, which is preying on their mind. The difference between night dreaming and day dreaming is that in the latter the dreamer can control the thoughts and events of the dream and end it when they wish.


Despite the problems, Some people have made a study of dreams. In the 1950s three American psychologists, Kleitman, Dement and Aserinsky, used laboratory techniques to study dreams. They introduced the method of awakening and questioning volunteers about their dreams and found that during periods of sleep accompanied by rapid eye movements (REMs) subjects were usually able to give detailed accounts of their dreams.

In his study The Collective Unconscious the Swiss psychoanalyst Carl Jung writes that many of his patients, despite being poorly educated and untravelled, could describe happenings in their dreams with striking resemblance to myths from many different cultures. He was at a loss to explain why or how.

The most widely-accepted studies on dreams are those of Sigmund Freud. One of his main tenets is that dreams are based upon wishes, recollections and fantasies related to deep emotional reactions of early childhood: a heavily disguised form of infantile wish-fulfilment. However, Freud later came to accept that there are some dreams which do not embody the fulfilment of infantile wishes. These were often recurring dreams in which the dreamer re-enacts a traumatic event which he has experienced.

The results of dream studies remain divided and controversial, but it is probably true to say that dreams are a mode of symbolic expression, unique to each dreamer, but with some recognisable shared characteristics.