AFTER A BRIEF HIATUS, POETRY IN ESCONDIDO RETURNS SEPT 7 .. and when I awoke, I had dreamed this poem.. ========================================================== The Drama of our Dreams: bring your poems & stories, or those of your favorite authors, on the art of dream-mindfulness. Were exploring the poetry of the subconscious, where the brain stores memories and processes them as story lines while our body is enveloped in the paralysis of sleep.. as well as the meanings of dreams: the subject of myriad books, popular songs, early-morning conversations and countless sessions with ones psychotherapist :) We also want to hear about precognitive dreams, as well as lucid dreaming. ========================================================== Reception at 12:30pm; as always, reading to any suggested theme is optional. ========================================================== POEMS The Night a Sailor Came to Me in a Dream At the point of shining feathers that moment when dawn ran her finger along the knife-edge sky; at the point when chickens come out of the living room rug to peck for corn and the grains like old yellow eyes roll as marbles across the floor; at that sweet sprouting point when the seed of day rests on your tongue, and you havent swallowed reality yet. Then, then, yes, at that instant of shimmering new pine needles came a dream, a blister from a new burn, and you walked in, old times, no player piano or beer, reality held my toes, the silver ball of sleep was on my stomach, the structure of dream like a harness lowered over my head, around me, and I cannot remember what you said, though the harbor was foggy, and your pea coat seemed to drip with moisture. Thirty years of traveling this ocean. Perhaps you told me you were not dead. by Diane Wakoski, from Inside the Blood Factory (Doubleday, 1968). ============================== Three from Langston Hughes Dreams Hold fast to dreams For if dreams die Life is a broken-winged bird That cannot fly. Hold fast to dreams For when dreams go Life is a barren field Frozen with snow. The Dream Keeper Bring me all of your dreams, You dreamer, Bring me all your Heart melodies That I may wrap them In a blue cloud-cloth Away from the too-rough fingers Of the world. Dream Dust Gather out of star-dust Earth-dust, Cloud-dust, Storm-dust, And splinters of hail, One handful of dream-dust Not for sale. by Langston Hughes, from The Dream Keeper & Other Poems (Alfred A Knopf, 1932)
Posted on: Sun, 31 Aug 2014 18:11:48 +0000
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