The Red Dream

[Brendan Gorman]

A white, dead face meets me by the door
I’m in a place I’ve never been before
A doll’s house with a garden so sweet
Bunnies jumping, white and petite


She invites me in to play
But I say I cannot stay
I no longer play with dolls
And I watch as her smile falls


She takes me by the hand
‘A tea party I have planned
Now come along and drink with me’
And I can do nothing but agree


I drink one cup, but that is it
I’m feeling restless where I sit
I reach for the door
But it is no more


The whole poem is full of childish sounding talk, simple talk, things that force rhyme but almost work in a whimsical way. Some of it sounds overwritten, but overwritten in a simplistic way that gives it charm. But these things might not be your intention at all.



A small hole it has become
Just large enough for my thumb
But I am wrong, for my finger is stuck
This seems to be a dream of very bad luck



‘I will help you, just hold still’
I feel certain, my thumb she’ll kill
For she is holding a small, sharp knife
And with it I think she’ll end my life


But in a second it is over, once again we drink tea
My hand is bandaged and bloody, but at least I am free


Out in the garden I watch the bunnies eat
I pick one up, for it is just too sweet
But it drops its head for it did not want to cuddle
It continues to eat while I stand in a bloody puddle


I’m holding the body as the head eats
I know it is alive for the heart still beats
But the others have gathered around my feet
Smelling the blood they have come for a treat


All lead by the nose
They nibble at my toes
I wish I had a gun
And then I start to run


Into the forest I leap
I don’t think I’m asleep
She follows me with tiny doll shoes
I fall and feel my knees start to bruise


I’m trapped in something that smells very nice
I wriggle, but I’m lifted off the ground in a trice
Wrapped in roses, I see her grin
Needles are sinking into my skin


‘You never play with me anymore
I just sit on the shelf watching you snore
But this dream is mine and if you ever awake
I’ll come back next night, make no mistake’


She opens her mouth wide open as if to shout
But instead a waterfall of blood comes out
The red sea is rising, thick and hot
I want this dream to end but it will not


It is hot, red, I’m choking, sinking
I try not to swallow, but I find myself drinking
The last thing I see is the eyes of the doll
That I have barely ever played with at all


I sit up straight in my bed, heart beating fast and I see
On the shelf across the room she sits, just waiting for me
She is smiling, for we know for sure
That tomorrow night she will visit once more

---

The poem captured my attention and made me what to keep reading. The only thing I could think to say is some lines seemed slightly forced. Yet I got this great kinda dark Alice in Wonderland kinda feel out of it. I like dark scary poems, so if you have anymore you should def put them up.[/color]