Tag: the dreaming

  • Weary dreams

    I an beginning to wonder if it isn’t time to retire from the larger world.

    “World weary” describes me perfectly.

    Sometimes, I’d rather just close my eyes and not stop dreaming.

    Point a finger… You, come with me if you want so we can write ourselves a dream. No? I don’t blame you. It’s not a very dreamy kind of dream anyway. It’s only a dream of cherry blossoms drifting on the water and coffee (or tea!) sipping as it dream drifts into other dreams while we talk to create those dreams and forget the things needing to be forgotten. How dull, you say.

    The good news is that I may have forgotten some things already. In fact, it seems increasingly so each day as I try not to recall those things in the upstairs room. Here be monsters.

    Let’s not dream those dreams. I don’t like them.

    Instead, let’s dream of those things the world weary dream and draw pictures in autumn leaves.

    Most of all, just let me sleep.

  • shards, ii

    Close your eyes reading this one; it will help.

    never will you ever find me
    never will i ever find you
    twin nightboats
    on the River Dream

    still: kohl eyes, seek—

  • evermore

    'could i, a slip between cracks
    would i find to the narrows'

    'go sleeping on those hills,'
    she suggested, offered, obliged
    the moorlands her finger drew

    'lichened stone to rest a head;
    a blanket of peat to cover you
    and heather to tincture your sleep'

    i did as bid, grew antlers thorned
    as i slumber a top that tor
    i fell betwixt place and moor
    having given self to evermore

  • call in Storm

    feral you, on petite, lithe and narrow
    dancing on the edge of betweens
    with stolen kisses on slender promise
    while others argue, deaf to your muse
    bound within the must and dust of
    parchment giants lining every room

    a wink, a smile, and a theft once more
    then,
    we raise twin hands, call in Storm

  • Only Just

    There was a dreaming of that narrow living room, and my place directing from the far corner: move stage right, turn down bass, less delay, crouch as if in pain, sing it again…

    You thought some suggestions were madness, but weren’t we all actors in the theatre of the absurd? That’s okay, I would find myself saying again, I pushed too hard and I understand that you cannot see what the madman sees.

    Ignore them when they said that bass can’t sing, can’t chord, just play that thing. And so he did, like he was wont to anyway. I was both superfluous and absolutely necessarily all the same.

    What use was my lingering? Affection, I suppose. Maybe a little spite as well.

    Just like that faded dream.

    Along came a summons. Paired with a wonder: Was it only just a dream?

  • waters unswept by wind

    i fell drunk from the wagon
    in thrall of a stained glass you
    piercing flint storms calling
    winter back into view

    you should know, the fall
    left me thorned flesh
    for years now, i have been
    prying septic wood at teeth

    of all the beautiful goodbyes,
    yours left waters unswept
             by wind

  • Well, that was unexpected

    I’m not quite sure how one goes back to sleep after having a dream of an old classmate throat slash himself in the kitchen, prompting a mad dialing of emergency services you know will arrive too late to do anything for him.

    It was a far more graphic and visceral experience than most of my dreams. And I admit, I can have some real doozies. Usually, the gore is suggested. This dream was “in full Technicolor” and detailed.

    I’m half-expecting to read something about him in the local news, it was so vivid. The other part is “don’t be absurd, J would never do anything like that.”

    Except, my brain reminds me, that’s exactly the kind of thing he’d do if he wanted a ticket out of here.

    As I said, I’m not sure how one goes back to sleep after a dream like that.

  • Morning blather

    I was thinking (dangerous stuff, that) about totems last night after waking up (this morning?) to use the toilet and after laying back down and trying to find a comfortable position to grab another ninety minutes of shuteye before dealing with the day.

    (more…)

  • ash

    i dream in lapis and ebon
    pale and on cheeks high
    gliding on twixt and tween
    she phantoms deserts on night

  • cactus hand horses

    we cactus hand horses
    riding desert corridors
    on separate painted stone
    sixgunning peepshow
    between fingers unfold
    she rivers the between &
    we gallop two feet ford
    we cactus hand horses
    riding sunset corridors