The falling dream. The flying dream.
The dream in which you lose your teeth.The abandoned kittens, the lost dogs,
the infant floating in its cradle on the lake.The woman weeping, alone, in the forest.
The beast with an urgent message,a critical missive you don't understand.
You fall, and someone offers his hand.You reach out, but your fingers slip
through one another like light, like water.You walk through the rooms of your life.
They are laid out, one by one, like a rail-road flat with no corridors, no hallways.
You watch your own life pass as thoughin a mirror, somehow reversed, somehow
not quite as it was. You arrive at now.
You wake in the fog of morning, slanted
bars of light on the ceiling. These dreamswrap the shoulders of your waking hours,
a hooded shawl for your long, flat days.
[I posted this too soon; I'm revising in place...]
[Tuesday morning: Revised, again.]
beautiful flow
Posted by: Jo | 08 January 2008 at 12:24 AM
You've captured the atmosphere of dreams perfectly
Posted by: Crafty green Poet | 08 January 2008 at 02:03 AM
You wake in the fog of morning, slanted
bars of light on the ceiling. These images
wrap the shoulders of your waking hours.
You wear this shawl through your long days.
You seal the poem well here. Dreams are intriguing, a great source for poems, in my opinion.
Posted by: Christine | 08 January 2008 at 07:00 AM
Very haunting poem. You makes you wonder if it's better to just stay in bed and pull the cover over your head.
Posted by: Cathy | 08 January 2008 at 06:33 PM
this was lovely... so lovely in fact... i wish i had written it myself....
Posted by: paisley | 08 January 2008 at 07:37 PM
ah dreams. both the great ones and the bad ones. do they really mean anything? someone who charges me for their opinions will say "most definitely!"
the writer conveyed several vivid scenes with words. well, that's what writers do. ask the late night hosts at the moment.
i notice, the writer's dreams are different than mine. maybe i can suggest content for another dream post! here goes...
can't move, stuck.
steps out of hotel with no address, phone #, name of hotel! what city?!
waiting for a train: one by one each bag is creatively stolen.
did not say something important to someone important to me when the chance was there - many chances.
can't dial the phone number on these damn little phones - and it's a life threatening situation!
waiting years to be discharged from military obligation, waiting for college diploma.
forgetting who my children are.
going to a restaurant and only deep fried entrees on menu.
yes, these are the "great" dreams...
although...i do enjoy it when i am : flying, making the winning basket, running without tiring, executing the perfect spinning hook kick, hitting the perfect five iron, helicopter skiing, salsa dancing, making the most meaningful gesture.
ok, there is content here. shrinks not apply.
sbpoet, your insightful prose inspired a moment here. thank you for that...
Posted by: PetMono | 09 January 2008 at 06:48 AM
The simplicity of these dream images is haunting and so perfect!
Posted by: Linda Jacobs | 09 January 2008 at 11:00 AM
Oh! I have those dreams, too -- the hotel dreams, the train, plane, and telephone dreams.
"making the most meaningful gesture" -- now, there's a line for a poem.
Posted by: SB | 09 January 2008 at 12:16 PM
"You walk through the rooms of your life"
From great age these lines speak to me--thank you, Fran
Posted by: Fran | 10 January 2008 at 04:24 AM
I think dreams are symbolic. Sometimes they prepare for what is to come. I should know...
Posted by: gautami tripathy | 10 January 2008 at 06:58 AM
"These dreams wrap the shoulders of your waking hours"...I loved this line. Some days a dream hangs over me all day. I perhaps can't even remember it, but a feeling persists like I have one foot in another world that I'm not part of.
Posted by: Niki | 10 January 2008 at 10:26 AM
I'm still not satisfied with the last line. Stay tuned for even more revision...
Posted by: SB | 10 January 2008 at 11:46 AM
Perfect. Do you wonder, or wish, at times, if perhaps your dreams are dreaming you?
Posted by: Anne | 10 January 2008 at 12:02 PM
This is a delicious one to read aloud; I love the rhythms of it. Most of these lines have four stresses, in my mouth and ear (some have three), and that gives the poem a kind of internal motion that I like a lot.
Posted by: Rachel | 10 January 2008 at 01:15 PM
Anne: Yes!
Rachel: Thank you for devoting that level of attention -- your observations might help me with revising the last lines...
Posted by: SB | 13 January 2008 at 12:16 AM