Category: Dreams

Categories
Dreams Saturday Expressions

Three Dreams | Session 13

I’ve had four to five memorable dreams over the past year. Here are three of them.

Chapter One

In the first dream, I was back in a student house.
I had to pack up and be out by the next day.

Too tired to do anything that evening,
I went to bed in a sleeping bag
on a mattress on the floor.

A recent partner was spending the
night in the other room.

I had a large upturned couch
in the next room and spilled
jewellery and beads all over the carpet. 

The next morning, he got up to leave.

Aren’t you going to help me? I asked.

No. I just needed a place to stay the night.

Oh. Disappointment.
Also thinking, how the hell
am I going to do this alone?

When are you going to get it?
I’m not here to help you.

He emphasizes
what should have been obvious.

Chapter Two

In the second dream, I was walking
down the street to my mom’s house.

He was walking back to a van
parked outside her house.

I was surprised.
Surely he would have told me he was in town.
Disappointment.

He gets in a tour/camper bus. He is with his ex,
some girls from work and school, and a new face.

Without restraint I put my hand on his crotch
and aggressively groped him while choking out
Nice to see you. Thanks for saying hi.

I exited, lacking any shred of dignity.

Chapter Three

In the third dream,
I was walking through mist.

He came out of nowhere.
Why didn’t you tell me you wanted to talk?

I tried. Do you want to now?

Why didn’t you tell me?
He faded back into the fog.  

Predictable.

Categories
Dreams Firescape Fridays Poetry

Port McNicoll | FF 16

Winter 2020, a dreamlike recollection

Recalling a Midnight Walk in Port McNicoll

Help me shed 
my exoskeleton

I feel like like setting something on fire
I feel like crying
I feel like creating
I feel like destroying

Port McNicoll
cold night
walking in the dark
see the stars
hear the crunch
forged by footfall
don’t slip on that ice there
crunch crunch crunch
silence punched
with pursuit
breath audible
visible
in the dark
rub my eyes 
to clear the dark
crunch crunch crunch
two people making one
set of tracks in the snow
around the inlet now
find the path
to the narrow
a strip 
no longer tying boats
to a bustling port
just dried up 
riparian plants
taking their
liminal space
beneath the snow
grounded by ice
liquidated by spring

I feel like setting myself on fire
I feel like filling my pockets with rocks
and following the wolf’s path
though already a rebirth of her future
still struggling
same shit
different lifetime

I have a lot of
feeling

I feel a lot of 
energy
inside but it wants
to escape
a timid body 
no longer sufficient
material 
for a growing
energetic field
unknowing
that it’s simply
a trap of 
attachment
to retain such runty residence
wanting to scream into the night
finally
screaming into the night

Port McNicoll
cold and still
crunch crunch crunch
snow changes to gravel
and we have found
piles and piles
now we need to climb or run
to keep moving forward
I’m the Queen of the Castle
I’m the King of the Castle
you’re the dirty rascal
YOU’RE the dirty rascal
made true by the rusty
sand on his face
dust on his clothes
so much gravel here
we wonder why they
wanted to convert 
the cleanest aquifer 
in the world
wanted to subvert
sustainability
for another gravel pit?
Did they get dust in their eyes?
Have they so quickly forgotten the ruin
of the planets they abandoned 
after their resources ran dry?
Or is the pleasure of the kill?

A Great Horned angel in the night
hoots his rendition of
Something in Blue

We long to hear a duet
but it’s a solo performance tonight
a prophecy in part
if not a command
one not heeded for a year still

I am pretending
I’m a superhero
free of mundane existence
but feeling the
weighty entrapment 
of earth life
human wishes
and someone else
constantly trying
to attach his leash
to mine
though I’ve
already 
been cut free
he can’t see
and
I can’t see
the further I run
the further he follows

I am searching for a memory
within this memory
5 years old
visiting Grandpa at work
he has an office
on King Street
Mom points to pigeons landing on the balustrade
rooftops next door
we’ll feed them outside
I like Newton’s pendulum on the desk
3, 3, 2, 2, 1, 1, 1, 1
concentration born from curiosity
and then starved
can’t last
so I flip the bubbler upside down
and watch the trellis of weightless 
globes travel against gravity
and perhaps my airy nature 
too yearns to excurse upstream
while pretending I was first
to swim against the current
last to observe
salmon beside me
same difficult journey
they got there first
yet
diluted to desk ornament
just the same
ultimately for
one other pocket’s 
profit

Port McNicoll
cold night
walking in the dark
catch glimpse of the stars
favourite constellation
shines down
three suns his belt
Orion poises his arrow
toward the next step
I take
not out in the lake
the mild wish
nothing compared
to enlightened craving
this time ’round
why are we like this
I want to cry
without replicating the search 
for why
negative feelings arise
in my perfect life
hauntings of a past
I’ve not lived
being just twenty-five
so where does it come from
hoo-hooooooot
sings the night
as tears sting my eyes
crystalline drops fall
tried to outrun him
so he can’t
see me
small

For this emotion
it broke me
I could not comprehend
why my mind became crazy
and I couldn’t defend
my inner wisdom being
so delicate, so fair
trampled to pieces
with curses, warfare
self-sabotaging poisons
injected nightmare
mind became muddled
emotionally impaired
reason deceptive
self-cherishing deceit
reason defective
self-deprecate, repeat

Port McNicoll
still and cold
never felt one 
could feel so old
he stood beside me
tried to take my hand
I hated myself and 
my life so unplanned
I couldn’t regret
the good things I gained
but it’s still hard to forgive
the way I chose to behave
and still sometimes continue
to choose bad over good
and without self reflection
feel so misunderstood
until a burning desire
a need for change
drove me out of the house
and into the street
just his following footsteps
held me down
from behind
I’m still grateful for
how patient
how kind
he was
most times

Just the 
one thing 
he and I 
could not fathom then
was how witchery brewed
when he denied my freedom
“It’s not safe” or “I’m lonely”
I longed to ignore
silly cries of unjust fear
thrust upon me once more
those were never my fears
just the cage just the light
always pinned down
always in sight
created madness such madness
the introvert curse
visibility birthed insanity 
death couldn’t be worse
some time to heal
a winter alone
a fire for warmth
all others gone
only in such
secret silence
can I recuperate
my song
only in secret
stillness
finally, raison
wisdom
sensibility
freedom from earth
release from silly senses
imagination rebirth
writer’s block lifted
hateful stories destroyed
my reality shifted
compassion deployed
a new strength within me
to combat the old
and at last my destructive 
tendencies controlled

Yet
if the process isn’t
respected
or worse left
ignored
the insanity boils 
despair restored
reason deceptive
self-cherishing deceit
reason defective
self-deprecate, repeat
energy overflow
must go somewhere
to make a living punching bag
not at all fair
it’s time to heal
and how is that done?
questions I should have asked
before I moved on
lacking foresight
seeing only the past
heart break by hindsight
present don’t last
soon gift is gone
life moves too fast
future moments with him
I lost too soon
tortured by choices
a steed of Doom

When the energy
comes shaking
my rib cage vibrating
a hungry ghost
screaming from within
a need for destruction
as I can’t face the fear
I can’t feel the sorrow
As anger burns thin
It just turns to tears
Though I long to clear-cut
Whole forests with the rage that I feel
I simply toss a rock to hear
the splish splash splunk
in frigid water
or tin cold plunk on
and not yet through
the ice

Port McNicoll
empty and cold
brought me to my knees
made me feel so old
first so angry
then so blue
first shaking with rage
then wrung-out-rag-used
perceived imprisonment
before breaking loose
restraints granting rope-burn
inebriated bickering to sober truce
rebuilding future
from broken past
always keen dreamers
’cause madness don’t last

Lifetime different
but shit the same
struggling still
future rebirth already
though, virgin’s path following 
and rocks with pockets filling feels
fire myself, sun setting, like I feel

Madness, an exoskeleton
help me shed
shed my help

Categories
Dreams Poetry Thirsty Thursday

Thirsty Thursday | Dream 2

Another dream from October of last year

It seemed so funny, now, that we should be sitting there.

Together at a booth with two – or three? – other people. I didn’t know any of you.
And yet – you. You stared at me with such a loving smile. I felt I knew you my whole life.
You said something to me, and I felt warm inside. Though we weren’t alone, the world stopped for us. Alone in the booth, with Bill, Jane and Russ. 

Your foot brushed my leg, a flirt loaded touch. My flesh raised as though cold, suddenly five was too much. Desire filled my heart, and I longed to be held. I saw you see me; you saw me melt. From inside out, I became mush. It happened so fast – so much for being tough. I wanted to reach you, as you were sitting there. I thought we were in a booth, but now you’re sitting in a chair? And the ceiling lights flickered, from fluorescent to 40watt. In the now dimmed diner turned cafe, I no longer fought: the dream was fading fast. Though the feeling remained warm, it was now in the past. Your lingering smile and your simple foot play, I mumbled as I woke, “I wish I could stay.”

Categories
Dreams Thirsty Thursday

Thirsty Thursday | Dream 1

This week we’re going to mix things up a bit. I’m going to share a thirsty dream instead of a love letter. Enjoy 😉

A Dream

You met my eye across the room,
I couldn’t believe my luck.
I felt your stare raise bumps on skin
and simply yearned to fuck.
Right before my very eyes,
you strode across the floor.
My heart beat fast and skipped a beat.
I felt your eyes once more
look me up and down, 
your hand came out,
and wrapped around my neck.
My eyes met yours, and there we stood 
with parted lips we moved toward
each others’ face and tongue
met taste of another
flesh that was hot and sweet
and cold sweat meshed
against your cheek, my 
hand came out to meet
your back and pulled you close
to grind against the fabric
of my …what was I wearing?
You went to the bathroom, 
and someone came in. A new conversation
started, and I realized the
bed I was in was getting cold,
and the sweat was real, but
the image was not, though the scene was hot,
and my bedroom came into sight,
as my eyes met the light that
the day time brought, so I had to shake
it off while still admitting
it was nice to feel your eyes
on me though it was just a dream.

Categories
Dreams Saturday Expressions Visual Artwork

Two Dreams | Session 2

A Dream:

The King I seek is standing in the sun. 
I cannot see his face.
He holds out his hand to me.
In his outstretched palm is a wax seal.
I cannot make out the pressed emblem.
On the tips of his fingers he offers an amber Jewel.
I long to take the Jewel from his hand, but I don’t want to appear selfish. I just feel this offer means so much more. The seal reveals his official business, but Jewel feels like a gift meant just for me. I reach out my hand to touch his. 

The King disappears, and I wake up. 

Another Dream:

I was sitting on the bank of a river. From a distance, I watched a female oriole weave her nest with dry plants and tree bark. Every so often she would pause and call out to her partner, working at a distance. I moved closer to get a better vantage point. From up close I could see that the lady in orange array had woven lavender forget-me-nots into her hanging home. As she flew off to gather more materials, I stood up and peered inside. I gasped, thrown by what I saw. A window into a deep red world. A ruby hung in the clear sky casting brilliant rays across a crimson lake. A couple cradled in a copper canoe bent in for a kiss. A scarlet glare lights my pupils aflame and, blinking, I wake up.