Tuj - ...that I was a scientist in a mysterious bunker, doing some sort of research for the government. I can't remember what, but it involved these strange green bubbling canisters, and occasional people wandering about with radioactive protection suits and/or serious expressions. Anyway, my job was to place these canisters into a chute which snapped shut after I put one in. But I was putting one in when I looked down at my hands and realised I wasn't wearing protective gloves... and then I realised I wasn't wearing a protective suit at all... and then I dropped the canister. Greenish fumes emanated, causing me to collapse unconscious. I dreamt...

Wymo - ...that I was about to score the winning goal in the final of the FA cup, only for Roger Whittaker to catch my eye and say in a low voice "you want to watch out for seagulls." Hopelessly distracted, I skidded madly on the turf into the goalpost, knocking me unconscious. I dreamt...

Pave - ...that I was falling - but upwards - to the sky. Not your usual kind of dream about falling - and it wasn't about flying....flying would suggest control...this was falling the wrong way. As I fell upwards, faster and faster, and sometimes slower when certain denser clouds got in the way, I thought to myself "How odd! I am falling towa....." But I failed to finish my thought as my head hit the underside of a wing of jet airliner flying from Flanders to the New World...The bump on the head rendered me unconcious, and put me into a sleep where I dreamt...

Tuj - ... that I was a hamster, which was strange, though quite enjoyable. I ran around in circles for a while, and explored what seemed to be my living environment. It was while doing this I found a gap I could squeeze through into the outside world. However I was promptly found by a large evil looking cat, who chased me around. Running frantically, I paused to look around to see the cat had stopped - it seemed to have been a clockwork cat. At this point the owner showed up - it was Rolf Harris! I fainted with surprise. I dreamt...

Raak - ...of colourless green ideas dreaming furiously of the day when they might ascend from the abyss of potentiality, and I was the Guardian of the Way, that they might not autoimmanentizate, and they spake unto me, saying, "Art thou not also but an idea, a dream within a dream?" And I scorned them, showing them the sword that I bore, which was called the Sword of Russell that defeated Frege, and that by its virtue they might not pass. But they grinned and were unabashed, and said, "That is a mighty sword, but there is another which is mightier." ...

Pave - ...pork....hmmmm...I had drifted of into another dream, no longer of swords, but of farmland and countryside. I found myself wandering through ancient hedgerows and treading deep into freshly turned soil. Whils looking up at a kestrel my foot falls into a pot hole and a bang my head. I start to stand myself up and turn to look at the hole that had caused my fall, only to find that I had fallen under a fence rail which now hit me squarely on the head, causing me to fall into an unconcious sleep, where I dreamt...

Juxtapose - ...that I was in an old gangster-style car with Humphrey Bogart. He was driving around on these endless colorless streets and told me he'd save me the trouble of explaining everything. He told me how I was the one who killed Maxine, but my twin sister had taken the fall for it. He illustrated how I had blackmailed my way out of that trouble with the Carson boys since I was the person who had seen Regan that night in the office with Berniece. He just kept talking. All these intricate plots seemed right on the mark at first, but as he talked he started mentioning names I had never even heard of and all these ludicrously entwined plots, and always driving down these dark grey streets. It wasn't too long before my head was dimly nodding. I realized I had fallen asleep when I began to dream...

Raak - ...of how I met Augusta one last time amongst the evening trees at Sancéry, and sorrowed with each other over what had been, and as we passed through the formal garden to the sound of unseen harpsichords we turned behind a fomydrangea and there found our graves side by side, open and empty. And so we lay down, united as we had never been in life, and dreamed...

Falstaff - ...that I was most honorably and dutifully stumbling along the village boardwalk on a true but unsteady course carrying me to one o me miserably routine early morning tribunals to reassure me goodly woman I have been faithful, and to become sober, following a full evening of whoring and bingeing with Ben Johnson and his band of gay fellows when I espied a shop window wherebehind there cooled assundry panned pastries pulled fresh from the oven, and the sweet aromas of peach, plum, apple,and boysenberry shamelessly abducted me from the street and I found meself dragged, against my will, and forced to position my heavy beast of burden upon a stool before a counter upon which was positioned a succulently plump apple pastry whereby the hot juices were tantalizingly seething beneath its thin sugary crust while a shapely young wench looked on, with batter in bowl in hand while she brushed aside a rogue strand of unrepentent hair from beside her floured nose and smiled sich a come hither smile I was abashed and ... and quite beside myself as to what action to take.

"Milady," I began, "It is true, by night I am an uninhibited bachelor whom the tavern women adore, but by day I remain a devoted husband and father, for even an unremorseful sinner such as myself must do his penance. While you madam, are without shame to have enticed me, as you have, into this your den of iniquity, through the unabashed advertising of your many uncomparable wares, for I am a weak man who cannot resist succumbing to my numerous vices, however, I assure you all that I require from you is a SPOON."

That being my utensil of choice, when consummating pie.  

"Spoon? With you!" she scorned. "I should live to see the day. Why, I am a lady! While you, Sir, are a boor!" and she violently cudgeled me over the cranial dome with a giraffe-handled heavily-wooden spatulate-shaped spoon, rendering me unconscious, whereas my face dropped forward into the apple pie, whereafter, I dreamt...

Inkspot - ...I was in a small stone cell with no windows, I flew at the metal door and kicked it with my feet to make as much noise as I could. The door opened banging against the wall in the silence that followed several yellow budgerigars squeezed in through the opening. Backing me up against the wall they began to sing till I slid once more to the floor to sleep and dream...

Marc - …that my yacht was running down-wind surfing at top speed over the giant waves just a few miles off the coastline. With both hands steadily on the tiller the vibration from the rudder spread all the way down to my wet toes and made me feel warm all over in spite the cold spray hitting me violently and more or less constantly. The dawn was still an hour away so I could not see much in the poor moonlight shining through to the lee-side of the main-sail. The moon was almost full but temporarily hiding behind my main-sail so the deck and cockpit were just barely reflecting the blue light in a mysterious way and the breaking waves around me were glistering with a cold, bluish sparkle. I checked the compass and the distance to the coastline and noticed we were well on course but not yet able to spot the Lighthouse at Eddystone Rocks. Then all of a sudden I heard a strange noise like ‘TWANG’ and felt a shaking going through the hull and looked up at my bottom-reefed main-sail. The ship started rocking from side to side and was finally leaning over at lee-wards in a spectacular and very inconvenient way and I shouted: ALL HANDS ON DECK at the top of my voice to wake up my crewmates…. And that's when I woke up finding myself lying on the floor beside the bed and the misses looking down at me asking what in the whole world was going on. I mumbled something unheard and went to the bathroom to empty my overfilled bladder and then back to bed where I finally managed to fall asleep again after a while and dreamt that…….

CdM - (Not sure if this warrants a Bzzzzzzzt, but surely when Marc woke up he should have been in a small stone cell with no windows. I think we must presume that he merely dreamt that he woke up.)

Marc - (Not sure if CdM had a dream about me waking up in a small stone cell with no windows or not. I presume he had as he is submitting his lines here though he may just have dreamt that he was awake and then submitted in his sleep??)

Tuj - ... I was in the small stone cell again, accompanied by CdM and Marc, which is odd as I have no idea what either of them looks like. Oddly they were both asleep, and CdM was snoring. I started clapping my hands to try and wake them up, but to no avail. I shouted at the top of my voice - no avail. I prodded the two sleepers, kick them, sang the national anthem right in their ears... but all to a quite singular lack of avail. So I gave up, went over to CdM's side of the cell because he's right, found myself a bit of space to lie down and dozed off. I dreamt...

Juxtapose - ... I saw a foreign land
And rode a foreign steed
Her lilac mane; my crimson hand
The colors interbleed
A jagged face of endless chalk
To match our hair unkempt
As I in sleepless saddle rock
And by and by I dreamt...

Inkspot - ... that I was sitting on a stage ... in a circle with others sat in the gloom, who's shape I can barely make out ... an audience far off is hushed ...it's the World Championship... I lean forward and say hushed tones "Belsize Park and placing a blue token on Golders Green to initiate Parks and Greens cascade as the mmmmmmmm goes up from the audience I rest back on deckchair, close my eyes, smile and dream that...

Falstaff - ...with torch in hand i am venturing down into the catacombs to consult with my muse whom has become tardy in his contractual correspondence from the crypt there is no light burning in his chamber and not even a scarab is moving about in fact the dust has lain so long undisturbed atop his work station it affords no evidence of activity the candle on the desk has expired beyond its usefulness and the inkwell whar reclines a writers quill has dried completely what parchment thar was is become so brittle it crumbles like ashe as i lift it to read the indelible scribblings disintegrate before my eyes and the only disturbance of the earthen floor in manner of tracks is my own entering and no others leaving what perplexes me to no limits for how did he abandon the chamber without making an impression in the loose textured soil but if he did not leave and is still here then whar i ask myself as i scritch at the crawling rash newly born on my naked ankles what is spreading like a plague of fleas upward beneath my nightrobe which as fact presents itself it is fleas centuries in hybernation emerging from the sand at my feet and more voracious than locusts ascending upon me in a black death and i am become consumed in a suffocating cloud of insanity from whar i cannot escape till with a climactic bloodcurdling scream i am sucked dry to the marrow and come unglued to expend as a thin layer of ashe that drifts throughout the chamber till with my last sentient thought as atom parts way with atom settling atom among unfamiliar atom i thinik how deserved is my attrition that i should at last be one with my muse - amid the ensuing limbo i dream...

Projoy - That I am soaring through the freezing Scottish air on a broomstick. Ron is there flying with me and up ahead of us is Cornelius Fudge, who looks rather like my friend Ken. He is casting spells but we can't hear what they are because of the wind and his broomstick has go faster stripes which mean that we can't catch him up to ask him exactly what he's doing. Suddenly we are flying close to the ground and, striking a rock, I ricochet straight upwards, which causes the broomstick to stall. I'm falling hundreds of feet toward the ground, but I realise that Cornelius Fudge has bewitched it to become soft, so I know that I won't come to any harm. I fall into the pillowy earth, which gives way beneath me, covering up the light as I fall deeper and deeper, suffocating in the soft duvet of grass and soil. Consciousness slips away just as I spy the snitch, which has fallen into a corner of the duvet, and I dream...

Tuj - ...I was a cockfighter! Only I wasn't a regular cockfighter, who battles his animals against those of an opponent. It was with turkeys instead of chickens, and rather than fighting each other, I raced my own turkey around the countryside. Halfway through the race we started fighting - I would punch and the turkey would hop up and peck me. I remember holding back my punches a bit because I didn't want to be known as the kind of dude who would punch out a turkey...
...so the turkey clobbered me with a right hook. As I passed out, I dreamt...

Raak - ...that I was a rock. I lay on the bottom of the Pacific Ocean being carried inexorably towards the Marianas Trench. Nothing much happened for several million years. Then I found myself being carried deeper and deeper as I reached the Philippine Plate, forcing the edge of the Pacific Plate down towards the fiery heart of the globe. As miles of rock ground above me, the heat remoselessly increased until my consciousness began to flicker and dissolve...

Wymo - ...until suddenly, I was a sausage roll. A very sleepy sausage roll, in fact, and I dreamt...

Botherer - ...that my four children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the colour of their skin but by the content of their character. But then I woke up to find...

Falstaff - ...I am once more a very sleepy sausage roll gazing into the twinkling eyes of a foraging bear, who is pilfering through the camps freezer. As I am crammed down the bears gullet, I can only hope the next stage of my journey will be a brief one, and I will quickly metamorph into a lovely multi-colored mushroom what adorns the forest's temporal floor. I dream...

... -
... no more

Marc - ...will I dream that I am a dream-interpreter understanding all dreams and able to explain to Wymo and Falstaff that their dreaming of food just indicate they are hungry and should get up to get something to chew on or they had too much food the night before and must avoid this if they want to get a good nights sleep dreaming that…..

Sigismundt Freud Jr - Marc you are a fraud (not a Freud like me!) and your dream-interpretation stinks! How dare you poke fun at one of the most important sciences we have left in this cruel world? Beside this your infantile interpretation of the remarkable dreams of a few of the most distinguished contributors to this wonderful site is ridiculous and actually not worth commenting. Hopefully your brutal attacks to this site has not scared off the serious contributors or awaken the dreamers so they will not post their next couple of dreams…..

Tuj - ...so I sat and waited for them to do so. But no-one did, and slowly my eyelids dropped...

Raak - ...and it seemed to me that I awoke, though still I slept, and I awoke to a great tumult and din, and I saw DEATH, who bore a scythe, and went mowing men, and they did flee from him, but escaped not. And I was sore perplexed how I might avoid that fate. And I spied a light afar that shone down from the sky, and at the place whereon it shone there was erected a Sign, like unto a great letter O bisected, and a Voice spake unto me, saying, "Here is the means whereby one may escape the fate that I have shown you, yet few are they who attain it." And the light was extinguished, and the Sign was not to be seen, and I was so plunged into despair that at once I swooned and lay as if dead. And while lying thus, I received a further vision...

Darren - ...that I was blind, and had to feel my way around a network of tunnels full of wizards and strange beasts. I longed to be able to see them, as I was bewildered by the texture of their scaly, slimy, sticky skin. The beasts' skin was almost as bad. As I passed through a junction between two particularly rough-walled tunnels, I heard a voice behind me, chanting in a language I did not understand. He must have been performing powerful magic, because my energy was drained and I fell against the jagged wall. Despite its uncomfortable nature, I fell into a deep sleep in which...

Tuj - ...I dreanmt that I was a mounted soldier, riding around outside Buckingham Palace. I was concerned with repelling errant pigeons who were flying all over the place, mainly by waving my arms and the sword I was carrying. A senior officer came and congratulated me and said I would be rewarded by having tea with the Queen. Entering the hall of the Palace, I was greeted by a tall butler, who showed me through to a huge room containing merely one small table for two, on one side of which sat Queen Victoria. As I sat she began to talk. Resting my elbows on the table, her words on current politics washing over me, I drifted off... I dreamt...

Darren - ...I was Prince Albert on my wedding night. Queen Victoria was stood in front of me, clad in only... but I couldn't bear to approach her! The smell! Oh, dear Lord, the rancid, vile stench! I reeled backwards in a swoon. "My dear Albert," she cried, "what is the matter?" But as she walked towards me, I fell backwards again, and again, until I had collapsed on the floor. I tried to stand up, but the smell... the horrific reeking stink, such an odour I have never experienced and hope never to experience again. It permeated my every sense, and my mind, and I lost consciousness, only to dream...

Raak - ...that I wandered in Slough, and was sunk in great Despond, not knowing whither I should go, that I might be saved. And I encountered an aged woman, who wore a cloak, and on her cloak was that Sign of the bisected circle that I had seen for but a moment, and far off. And I spoke unto her, asking who she might be, and what was the meaning of that Sign which she shewed. And she replied, "How are you, I'm Mrs. Trellis. Would you like a cup of tea?" And I trembled at that Name, and once more swooned...

Botherer - ...to find I was a lemon scented car freshener hanging from the rear view mirror of a Mk II Austin Allegro (one of those with the "square" steering wheel circa 1979). Sadly, the car was being scrapped and my lemon-scentedness had declined to barely nothing so I'd been left in the car. A sudden noise made me realise not just that the car was about to be crushed, but also that this was an alarmingly sentient state of affairs for an inanimate object. The shock and fear made me pass out, and I dreamt...

Raak - ...that my foot was set upon the Way with assurance, and as I walked in that strait way, I met another man whose body was strangely bent. "Who art thou?", I asked. And he replied, "I am Half-Twist, and I am bound for Lancaster Gate. Shall we walk together?" But I replied to him, "Is it not writ in that Little Book that informeth us of the Destination and the Way thereto, that those who half-twist to that place shall meet with ruin and destruction? Change thy way, I beseech thee, and walk a better." But he scorned me, and cast me into Knip, and I could not escape. Then I might have despaired, but I remembered that saying that says, when the diagonals are closed, inaction is the strongest action. So I sat down, and farkled awhile, and at length fell asleep and dreamed...

Tuj - ...that I'd woken up. Or had I in fact woken up? I wasn't sure, so I attempted to get out of bed, only to realise that despite being in my bed I was not in fact in my bedroom, but on top of a mountain. Satisfied I was still dreaming, I snuggled back under the covers and dreamt...

Audience - *wakes up*

Audience - *shouts, screams generally goes wild for Audience*

Audience - I do fancy analysis, if you get my drift.

KagomeShuko - . . . my best friend fell in love with a giant white octopus that lived in the pond near her house. She would ride on one of it's arms every day and she would bounce up and down and get really wet and not care.