a new dream
now I see a wooden knob
on a cupboard drawer
or an oval shape
on a wooden plane
or a flattened sky painted
with wond'rous things!
here is an old bolt rusting
made some fifty years ago
or it's a shape aglow
with evening reds and a
story that whispers in my head
when I am tucked into bed
on my naked flesh I feel
a cotton sheet as cool as silk
a square of red deformed in space
in four dimensions, locked away
and as I sleep my senses play
and know the world as though t'were real!
now I see a wooden knob
on a cupboard drawer
or an oval shape
on a wooden plane
or a flattened sky painted
with wond'rous things!
here is an old bolt rusting
made some fifty years ago
or it's a shape aglow
with evening reds and a
story that whispers in my head
when I am tucked into bed
on my naked flesh I feel
a cotton sheet as cool as silk
a square of red deformed in space
in four dimensions, locked away
and as I sleep my senses play
and know the world as though t'were real!
8 comments:
Meta, I've been too long away from your sanity.
Your world has the coolness of a mountain stream on my senses and, in my mind, the vision of one who has traveled through space and time.
BTW I'm still having trouble with our feed :-)
Well put, Rob. I enjoy your comments. Meta, I believe you live in many worlds - the Real one that is difficult to live in most of the time and any one of many dreamlands, depending on the outcome of your subconscious roulette wheel. I wish you many many outrageously great dreams!
Dreams are where it all happens. Two nights ago I dreamt about a beautiful tree. It had smooth black bark and its trunk ran almost parallel to the ground before sweeping up into two or three branches. It was covered in enormous deep pink, four petalled flowers which fluttered like giant butterflies.
Most of my dreams are fraught with issues of grief or tiny creatures that I have to rescue, so ones like this make a welcome change.
So long ago
Was it in a dream, was it just a dream?
I know, yes I know
Seemed so very real, it seemed so real to me.
Took a walk down the street
Thru the heat whispered trees
I thought I could hear
Somebody call out my name as it started to rain.
Two spirits dancing so strange.
Dream, dream away...
Magic in the air, was magic in the air?
I believe, yes I believe
More I cannot say, so what more can I say?
On a river of sound
Thru the mirror go round, round
I thought I could feel
Music touching my soul,
Something warm, sudden cold
The spirit dance was unfolding.
***
@Rob: Thanks as usual for your ebulliance, it's surely undeserved but greatly appreciated. Maybe you could give me a word of advice has to how to activate my RSS feed? I looked in the options and in Settings > Site Feed, there are options like "blog feed" which is currently set to 'none' but has options for 'short' and 'full'. Can you make sense of any of this stuff? I've purposely been putting off learning about site syndication because like Holmes (Sherlock and Mycroft, not John), I only have a certain amount of room in my brain and I like to keep that filled with useless trivia rather than anything practical. But I'd be happy to be led by you if you could educate me on this subject.
@Empath: You are only too correct and it's not really a blessing, though sometimes it is. It's just a greater reality that those of us with rich dream-lives (all of us here surely, not counting your day-meanderings Rob, you Homo pseudosapiens amanitus & daytripper extraordinaire) have to exist in and deal with. More worlds, more possibilities, more confusion, more rewards, more hells to avoid, more glee on the horizon. And a lot of damn work even if you don't move a muscle. My neurons don't even seem to need sleep unfortunately, and become indignant when I even suggest the idea to them.
@Magpie: That sounds like a great fairy-dream and the kind I love to have as long as they don't turn dark on me. I have a lot of the other kinds of dreams you describe, the "common" ones, so to have an apparent pure fantasy episode is a nice change of pace from those that an analyst would so like to pick over and build a profile of me from. Sometimes, dreams are just dreams.
What more can I say??
Meta, congratulations! Your transmissions from the Meta-Plane are coming through strong and flowing like a sparkling mountain stream into my humble news reader. Many thanks.
Your description of me being an octopus made me smile (you must have seen me down at the tennis club) but I feel more like a valley into which flow many streams; some are sparkling, fast moving and laugh and play; some are slower moving but equally generous in the nutrients they bring; others are trickles that might grow to a torrent of rich experience if channels for them are gently widened.
These streams, rivers and brooks bring dreams of pink butterflies and magical poetry and enrich me. Without them I would just be a dried up river bed ripe for development.
Instead of the torrent of emotion, dreams and desires I currently enjoy there would be just a boring old housing estate made of boxes, little boxes all made out of ticky tacky and all looking just the same.
Instead of words,
Huzzah!
Mr. Lennon (R.I.P.)rears his troubled head I see. Can't remember the name of the song but remember how it goes. I too have been away from the old Meta-plane, but now I'm back to haunt you like a witty spectre. I have a new p.c. but practically no idea how to use 99% of it. Hey-Ho, Lets Go!
Thesaurus, you are correct. It's #9 Dream. I left out the nonsensical (?) chorus as it's hard to transcribe and would have given the game away too easily. And your comment ends with a bit of The Ramones...
I see you have a new post up Mr. Dinosaur. Nice having a new, functional PC? I'll go read it shortly.
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