Tonight we dine on memories
Time to relent to our desires
In darkness we find images
Moving pictures in unconsciousness
Masking the realities of our existence
Though at their center lies a message
A slice of clarity
Obscured in one dizzying mindscape after another
This meal of moments lasts
As long as your night persists
So ignore the soft groan of aged bedsprings
The whispered sigh of unclean sheets
Seek instead the cataractous vision of dreams
In which the eye cannot quite focus
And makes spectres out of sense
Revel in a figment of reality
Your clairvoyant soul shedding mundane wrappings
Making itself a snake.
Today’s entry in NaPoWriMo is inspired by the prompt, which bids us visit the Bibliomancy Oracle, receive our quote and use it as the basis of our poem somehow. I used one word from the quote in each line of the above poem.
Out of the blackness of dreams
There are wild murmurous thoughts
Whirling out of the deepest recesses
Shattering the stillness and silence of sleep
Here the orb of the moon may be brilliant gold
Or instead it may be blue as still waters
Here creatures may speak with the tongues of man
Or man may bleat and bark and chirp
As nonsensical as the creatures they mimic
Here doors may not open inward, or outward
But instead may fold into themselves
Or shatter into bits at the rap of knuckles
In the quiet blackness of dreams
All sense becomes nonsense
In the black quietness of dreams
All chaos becomes reality
In the black dream of quietness
We become our heart’s longing
In the quiet dream of blackness
We are still
Written in response to today’s challenge at With Real Toads, where we are given a list of words that seem disparate and asked to use at least five. I used eight.
Where did my fire go?
When did I lose that quality that drew every eye?
What happened to make me dull,
a hollow shell of myself?
I don’t feel the fire anymore
I don’t feel the heat
I keep reaching for it
searching for it where it used to be.
But it’s gone
doused or stolen or just lost
I don’t have the faintest idea how to rekindle that flame
I keep hoping it will just appear
renewed and revived
burning brighter and stronger and more powerful than ever before.
Not on its own at least.
Not without a lot of searching
not without finding the passion that fuels my fire.
I have passion in spades, but not when it comes to myself.
When I look at myself I see the scared and angry girl
sitting in a hallway
with friends all around her
trying to tell her that the love of her young life is gone
When I look at myself I see a woman
who married a man
without knowing who he was marrying.
I have been called many things
a force of nature
an amazing woman
a creative being.
I want to be all those things
and I want to share them with you.
I don’t want to be alone in the journey of my life.
there are things that need to be said
things that make the heart sing
words unspoken that yearn for the air
that once breathed into being
become like feathers
leaving in their wake
a sense of freedom and fulfillment
there are things that must be said
hopes and dreams require fuel
without voice they cannot emerge into the light
without the light they cannot be seen
there are things which we fear to speak
words that clutch and claw at our hearts
threatening to tear us open
leave us raw and bleeding
these too must be spoken
must be exposed and examined
for they are impediments to our true selves
to our happiness
set pen to paper, hold a brush in your hand
make music and art and poetry
and give breath to your fears
to your hopes
your dreams and beliefs
your wondering and your pain
allow it to live
and then to be free
in the moment between
there exists a moment of knowing
by recollections of a dream
a misty premonition
of future bliss
a promise of delight and wonder
Thirty-three words to describe the anticipation of a new day, an answer to this week’s Trifecta challenge.