20 Lines A Day

A Community of Writers and Photographers



nights air was foggy ,chilly to the touch

sky being dark , not seeing that much

sounds amplified as no movement observed

walking in my dream , being unheard

masses around me continuing with life

I by myself consumed with my strife

heartbeat begins nimble, slowing as time rolls on

next thing I see , light from a blue and cutting dawn

waking in her arms our hearts beating as one

released from this dream , one more night is done






My Dreams….

My nights are shallow , need to make that leap

I fight all night , but still can’t sleep

Next thing I know my mind is screaming

Feels so real , but I think I’m dreaming

When I think my dreams come unsurpassed

I’m dreaming again , about my past

Thoughts of things , wont go away

Buried til I sleep , then they play

I wake to hair and pillow all wet

Then my dreams they all reset

Thanks for reading …Remember Please like , comment and share..Thanks timzauto


1 Comment

Shadow Walkabout

Luke’s exhaustion consumed his last blink as he slipped beneath the watery depths of sleep.  His demons however did not retreat, chasing him relentless.  Their footprints forming trails of steam behind him, or were they his.  Gone too quick for anyone to follow, lost so that he never shares his burdens.  He has to rest and the only shade he can see is provided by a shadow with no discernible source.  In his fatigue his senses are dulled and his awareness is clouded, so he fails to realise that he stands under a shadow, cast by no one or from nothing.

Suddenly a girl, no more than 8 years old, appears by his side.  Her face is glowing; she is vibrant, energetic and quizzically turning her head as she stares at him.  She seems confused with Luke’s stance. “Why do you stand in the sun, when shade is at hand?” she asks, sweeping her hand in a gentle movement towards a Coolabah tree.  “You look hot, would you like a drink?”

Luke’s dried lips crack as he opens mouth.  He has dare not speak for as long as he can remember, out of fear that his lips would dissipate in the wind.  “Where did you come from?” his voice rasps.

She just smiles, and then skips away deeper into the desert.  The shadow pursues her vainly into the darkness of the forgotten.  Luke thinks of yelling out to her again, but raising his hand to hail her is painful enough.  Confused he isn’t sure what is real.  The thought however is too hard to contemplate at the moment, so he turns, crunching the barren soils beneath his feet as he drags his feet slowly to the tree.  Where did this tree come from he wonders, but in a land with no landmarks and no recollection of how he got here, there is little time to be concerned with such trivial matters.

He reaches the edge of the shade and mutters to no one in particular “Goodbye” before stepping over the threshold.  He wakes before he feels the cool relief of the shade.  Lying face down in reality, to face the battles of life that refuse to submit even in surreal lands.

1 Comment

Earth Songs

In early morning earth tunes up its harp.
Emerging from the flat dark night, the sharp
shrill bird songs call me from my silent sleep
where I in cottoned quiet cannot keep

my consciousness awake. I spiral down
to places where my dream becomes my town.
I star in my own movie, watch the flow
of action, but then with the morning’s glow

remember nothing. Now the flutes sing tunes
and I come into wakefulness. Day croons
its melodies from sunrise into bright
surprises. Could these gifts have come from night?

A Small Dream

I haven’t written anything substantial for so long.. seems to me as if the worm that used to make me write is now dead; still I am trying feebly to write something, even if it is bizarre.

A small dream

of doing something,


just to get off bed,

have a nice bathe,

wear some decent clothes

and set out to see the world-

its a small dream

I dream of everyday

staying, sulking on the bed.

1 Comment


Silent trumpet sounds


The oblivious and innocent

Into vacuous voids,

ethereal eclipses -

Angelic wings dance blithely

Dripping tiny baubles of hope

Melting in mid-air

Dreams, splayed like kindling

Beneath a roaring fire

Where sparks ignite the dirt

With stars too heavy to fly toward the moon

Suffocating lest fingertips burn

Leaving ashy-white memories

Subtly heralding promises of pleasure.

Etched on mental panes

Snowflake images of perfection

transforming teardrops

with the heat from one

quiet sigh.

Would You?

If you were to reach up and grab a star

what would that wish be?


If you were to hug a tree and dream of it’s beginnings

what would you see?


If you were to grab hold of a rainbow

would you think it’s colours majestic?


If you were to gaze into a beggars eyes

would you feel apathetic?


If you were to look upon yourself

would you see your inner brilliance?


If you were to tell the world who you are

would you expose your radiance?


Yes you would – you would wish for what you want the most for yourself or others

From earth to life – you would appreciate everything that is natural

Yes – The thoughts of the colourful life you have had

No you wouldn’t  - for you know not what life they have led

Are you undecided about just how brilliant you are?

Are you too humble to tell the world that yes indeed you shine?







The Blitz Poem

Beautiful sky

Beautiful love

Love so fair

Love so sly

Sly is who I am

Sly is the world

World so dreary

World is a dream

Dream in the night

Dream of the day

Day quite warm

Day with a charm

Charm act outward

Charm so fake

Fake is who I am

Fake is this world

World freedom

World enlightens

Enlightens the path

Enlightens my soul

Soul concept of life

Soul concept of death

Death for me and you

Death so inevitable

Inevitable circumstance

Inevitable depression

Depression kills

Depression controls mind

Mind your own business

Mind so lame

Lame is who I am

Lame is the world

World so sultry

World where I live

Live in the shadow

Live in the oblivion

Oblivion choices

Oblivion sky

Sky so high

Sky so blue

Blue waters

Blue cheese

Cheese of cow

Cheese I love

Love is who I am

Love is the world

World is yours

World is mine



Well, I hope you are not angry for reading this poem(yes it is a poem) which is full of meaningless phrases and words.

But I loved writing it and I hope you are also going to love it.

Blitz is a 50-line poem, completely made up of small phrases. Rules-

1. Line 1 should be one short phrase or image.

2. Line 2 should be one short phrase or image, using the same first word as the first words of Line 1.

3. Line 3 should include the phrase, using the last word of Line 2.

4. Line 4 should include the phrase, using the last word of Line 2.

5. Line 5 should include the phrase, using the last word of Line 4.

6. Line 6 should include the phrase, using the last word of Line 4.

7. Line 7 should include the phrase, using the last word of Line 6.

8. Line 8 should include the phrase, using the last word of Line 6.

9. Keep on repeating the routine till Line 48.

10. Line 49 is the last word(only) of Line 48.

11. Line 50 is the last word(only) of Line 47.

If you have any questions, do ask them. And try it- I know it is a little time consuming and a little confusing as well, but it is quite entertaining when we write it.

1 Comment

Weekend Photography Challenge

Okay, you photogs.  Here’s one for you!

Show us …


Head out there and find something that captures any ideas you have on the word Dream, whether it is literal, metaphor, or other.  Black and white, color, original capture or Instagram’d or whatever you wish.

Can’t wait to see what you come up with!  And who knows?  You may inspire some of the writers within our community with your shot.

An Early Morning Dream

An early morning dream

where everything is still so dark,

the light of the day hasn’t yet arrived,

the dawn is beginning its show.

An early morning dream,

where I dream of the early morning,

the stars still shining,

the moon though can’t be seen.

An early morning dream

where I experience the early morning.

Weird Dreams

Last night I dreamed that my pastors (both he and his wife are pastors) were involved in some sort of program in which they were required to drink two bottles of beer every 12 hours. She was explaining this to me, and eventually I was bold enough to ask her, “Do you like beer?”

And she said, “No, but I think it’s good for our parishioners to see us being obedient.”

Now what in the world do you make of that?

And then there was another part in which our son called to tell us he was now “president of the board,” and that they would be buying a Lexus. He also asked if we could babysit for our little granddaughter. But I was in an aura and we knew that a seizure was forthcoming, so we had to say no. This was very upsetting to me. My mom, who has been gone for 17 years, was in this dream, comforting me, telling me that she would take care of everything.

I’m tired this morning, and I think it’s because I “went to the movies” last night.


Right Here Waiting For You


Honey I understand the things you say,

Even though it makes me sad.

We sat and had a talk that day,

I gave you everything I had,

 Just to prove my love to you.

Even if you’re so far away,

Will wait you till eternity.

Can’t wait to build my dreams around you,

right here waiting for you…

Being with you for a while,

 gives happiness inside ,

Know that I am glad,

that our paths collide.

Taste of your kiss , touch of your skin,

It makes my life so gleam.

I will continue to love you

 and keep our memories within.

Can’t wait to build my dreams around you,

 right here waiting for you…

1 Comment

I Love Them






The morning nods its head at me. I rise,
and wonder what the day will bring: Surprise?
Or recollection of the dream I had?
What column will it go in? Good? Or bad?

The polished windows show me gray outside,
and I feel cottoned stuffiness abide.
I’ll get my little ones at noon, a treat
each hour and minute from the time I greet

them. How can grandchildren bring so much joy?
I’ve one of each, a girl, one teenaged boy.
She loves to read, play soccer, swim her pool.
He runs, wears faux-mo style of hair, is cool.

I held him minutes after he was born.
I saw her come into the world that morn.
These two have grown in dignity and charm,
and for them I would give up my right arm…

and so much more.


Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 3,323 other followers

%d bloggers like this: