Saturday, September 12, 2009
I was in another house. A large house, with plenty of rooms and a huge compound. There was a big hole in the ground near the entrance and a huge heap of mud was surrounding that hole. The mound of damp mud looked too heavy to be moved with the small shovel and I was wondering how to get that big hole filled. Next to the mound there was another patch of ground, which was green. Lush green, surrounded with lovely fresh flowers. I was pestering my mother to go back to our old house. The house, which had an arid patch of land around it and was filled with a vast nothingness .She ignores my plea and walks to the kitchen waving a ladle in the air, saying it was getting late to cook dinner. Maybe I can help her. The kitchen was submerged in water. There was water everywhere. Even the utensils were floating in that flood. I am flailing my hands and feet, only to be sucked in deeper by the unrelenting currents that have appeared in the water lodged kitchen. I see a fading image somewhere away from the watery haze before my eyes, but am not able to scream. My breath is growing fainter, re-surfacing in unfamiliar half tones, and I keep thrashing my arms around, to reach the surface. Suddenly, the mounting storm engulfs me, and I fall on the rising surfs, sinking deep inside, but could not find my voice to call out for help. I see that a starless darkness is howling beyond the white crest of the waves, “Wait…!” I call after my mother, but I am caught in the vortex of the whirlwind.
The crazy waves crash upon me, ready to break me into pieces. I am gasping for breath as I look across the shores, writhing in my helplessness. I do not see my mother anywhere. Only the tall and undulating shadows of dark waters, looming across the kitchen walls.
I wake up breathing hard, with my head on my numbed arm. My arm feels as heavy as stone, with no sensation, and no life. I let it remain, like a log beside me, waiting for it to come back to life.
Thanks To Lynn Behrendt for posting my dream here:
Friday, September 11, 2009
The sunset blazed on flowing waters, and died away on the rising waves,
I watched the evening, fading away on the little, latticed window of pain.
Thanks to William Michaelian for making my poem look so much better now:
The sunset blazed on flowing waters
and died away on rising waves
I watched the evening fade away
on my little latticed window of pain.