Post by little wing on Sept 1, 2009 16:19:22 GMT -5
Melting Icicles
I had a dream . . .
(seriously, I just remembered a dream I had about 3 or 4 nights ago)
I had a very vivid dream
that I was bashing icicles
hanging from a very low section of eaves
connected to a dwarfin’ rooftop that
angled not more than 3 or 4 feet from the ground
so, I could reach them with no effort
It must’ve been the beginning of spring
cold air was giving way to warmth
as the sun was shining on these lovely icicles
which were melting anyway!
so why not just help them along?
--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---
I was a child and my mother
was calling my name with a smile
“Come along honey! Hurry along now child!”
I looked up over to where she was
and strived very much to do as she requested
but my heart shrank from her intrusion into my ice world
I returned my wonderment gaze on these thick daggers
and I smiled at the sun brightening
and marveled at how the drips quickened
Naturally, I disobeyed and smashed a few more
oh, the carelessness of my child’s hand
I laughed and remembered mom’s command
So off I skipped not even turning to glance back.
--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---
Goodbye pretty icicles and the beauty of how you reflect the sun!
I shall miss you, but not all of the damage you have done
you fell hard in the death of night
you cracked concrete and most everything in sight
Let someone else get locked into your netherworld
I never knew something so pretty could be so destructive
for the dangers and ugly truth were hidden from me
protected and cosseted from the world of hurt
But when mom says, “Come away from there”
That’s when you know you really should.
___________________________________________________
(This relates to another dream [night vision, really] I had of mom driving me down the street where I used to live. She had that look on her face like she knew what was best for me and I was protesting the whole time – this was about 1 month ago. And like a teenager who gets a drug intervention pulled on their ass, I was like, “What the fuck!?!?!?! How dare YOU!!!!!!!” “I can’t believe you’re doing this to me!!!! Stop the car, stop! I want out!! Stop the car RIGHT NOW!!!” But she stayed quiet, all the while smiling as she ignored my pleas. It was night time and faces were like shadows, and she stopped the car across the street from the house that I did NOT want to be taken to – and I thought that was odd, because I thought that’s where we were going – ah relief! We didn’t go THERE. People were all in the street and smiling like some Halloween festival night, but nobody’s face was clear, except mom’s – what with her reassuring “all-knowing” look. Hmmm, now I know what the dream meant. That I would be taken to a “similar” house, but not THAT one. Afterall, it was mom who took me away from there to begin with, so naturally she would be the one to take me back – well sort of . . . )
+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +
What's strange is that this dream recollection was triggered by me reading another poem in here . . .
I had a dream . . .
(seriously, I just remembered a dream I had about 3 or 4 nights ago)
I had a very vivid dream
that I was bashing icicles
hanging from a very low section of eaves
connected to a dwarfin’ rooftop that
angled not more than 3 or 4 feet from the ground
so, I could reach them with no effort
It must’ve been the beginning of spring
cold air was giving way to warmth
as the sun was shining on these lovely icicles
which were melting anyway!
so why not just help them along?
--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---
I was a child and my mother
was calling my name with a smile
“Come along honey! Hurry along now child!”
I looked up over to where she was
and strived very much to do as she requested
but my heart shrank from her intrusion into my ice world
I returned my wonderment gaze on these thick daggers
and I smiled at the sun brightening
and marveled at how the drips quickened
Naturally, I disobeyed and smashed a few more
oh, the carelessness of my child’s hand
I laughed and remembered mom’s command
So off I skipped not even turning to glance back.
--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---
Goodbye pretty icicles and the beauty of how you reflect the sun!
I shall miss you, but not all of the damage you have done
you fell hard in the death of night
you cracked concrete and most everything in sight
Let someone else get locked into your netherworld
I never knew something so pretty could be so destructive
for the dangers and ugly truth were hidden from me
protected and cosseted from the world of hurt
But when mom says, “Come away from there”
That’s when you know you really should.
___________________________________________________
(This relates to another dream [night vision, really] I had of mom driving me down the street where I used to live. She had that look on her face like she knew what was best for me and I was protesting the whole time – this was about 1 month ago. And like a teenager who gets a drug intervention pulled on their ass, I was like, “What the fuck!?!?!?! How dare YOU!!!!!!!” “I can’t believe you’re doing this to me!!!! Stop the car, stop! I want out!! Stop the car RIGHT NOW!!!” But she stayed quiet, all the while smiling as she ignored my pleas. It was night time and faces were like shadows, and she stopped the car across the street from the house that I did NOT want to be taken to – and I thought that was odd, because I thought that’s where we were going – ah relief! We didn’t go THERE. People were all in the street and smiling like some Halloween festival night, but nobody’s face was clear, except mom’s – what with her reassuring “all-knowing” look. Hmmm, now I know what the dream meant. That I would be taken to a “similar” house, but not THAT one. Afterall, it was mom who took me away from there to begin with, so naturally she would be the one to take me back – well sort of . . . )
+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +
What's strange is that this dream recollection was triggered by me reading another poem in here . . .