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Old 07-21-2011, 06:08 PM   #31
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This is the poem. I initially planned on making this dream into a short story but when we were given the assignment to right a poem based on a dream, it clicked that this was the dream meant for that assignment.

Bones to Flesh

Pale flames of a meager fire,
fluid bone reaching, straining, suspended
over ash sculpture sticks. The Outsider
sprawling beside it, watching the weaving
of a camp through liquid light, eyes of midnight storms.

A child of silver moonlight curled in the crook
of a stone lap on a cushion of fog and grass.
The blazing expulsions of wooden demon mouths
glinting off hair of spider silk platinum.
She brushes the silk from eyes of starlit night
and watches stick bones and bleached skin
sprawling by pale flames over ghosts of wood.

The tapestry of a wandering home, musical strands
of color and scent. The cooks, the cleaners, the hunters,
the horses, the wagons. The girl child. The Outsider,
a blemish, pale and unraveled in the edge
of the weaving. The girl the delicate embellished
embroidery, white gold weave of the center,
cherished child of tapestry threads.

“It's time,” his whispered words tiny bells jingling
as the porridge goes cold and the people grow still,
darkness hovering in breaths of dream. Skeletal hands
clasping my waste(her waste). Riding a skinny
horse albino, too sickly to hold whole men.
I lean(she leans) against washboard ribs.

I'm a crow in the black sky cawing alert!
The tapestry wakens to give chase!
Outsider, child, horse, riding in a tunnel
of trees, warped and rounded,
circling, bulging, wrapping
around the only path of the maze of time.

The tapestry fades. Reality bends; bones become flesh,
full, vibrant, alive. I'm an eagle in starlight flying
above a chestnut horse with riders. “We're home,”
he says, no longer the outsider. “I know,”
she responds, “I missed you Dad.”
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Old 07-21-2011, 07:07 PM   #32
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hey giraffe

I remember fantasies like like(albeit 30+ years ago) after a night picking fresh mushrooms. I'm not talking morels or porcini
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Old 07-21-2011, 09:46 PM   #33
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Beautiful Jess! Love it!
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Old 07-21-2011, 10:30 PM   #34
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Thanks PF!
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Old 07-22-2011, 06:43 AM   #35
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Quote:
Originally Posted by purple.alien.giraffe View Post
This is the poem. I initially planned on making this dream into a short story but when we were given the assignment to right a poem based on a dream, it clicked that this was the dream meant for that assignment.

Bones to Flesh

Pale flames of a meager fire,
fluid bone reaching, straining, suspended
over ash sculpture sticks. The Outsider
sprawling beside it, watching the weaving
of a camp through liquid light, eyes of midnight storms.

A child of silver moonlight curled in the crook
of a stone lap on a cushion of fog and grass.
The blazing expulsions of wooden demon mouths
glinting off hair of spider silk platinum.
She brushes the silk from eyes of starlit night
and watches stick bones and bleached skin
sprawling by pale flames over ghosts of wood.

The tapestry of a wandering home, musical strands
of color and scent. The cooks, the cleaners, the hunters,
the horses, the wagons. The girl child. The Outsider,
a blemish, pale and unraveled in the edge
of the weaving. The girl the delicate embellished
embroidery, white gold weave of the center,
cherished child of tapestry threads.

“It's time,” his whispered words tiny bells jingling
as the porridge goes cold and the people grow still,
darkness hovering in breaths of dream. Skeletal hands
clasping my waste(her waste). Riding a skinny
horse albino, too sickly to hold whole men.
I lean(she leans) against washboard ribs.

I'm a crow in the black sky cawing alert!
The tapestry wakens to give chase!
Outsider, child, horse, riding in a tunnel
of trees, warped and rounded,
circling, bulging, wrapping
around the only path of the maze of time.

The tapestry fades. Reality bends; bones become flesh,
full, vibrant, alive. I'm an eagle in starlight flying
above a chestnut horse with riders. “We're home,”
he says, no longer the outsider. “I know,”
she responds, “I missed you Dad.”
"poetry is just the evidence of life. if your life is burning well, poetry is just the ash." l. cohen
p.a.g. - your life must be burning rich and bright, to leave behind such dark, warm ash....
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Old 07-22-2011, 10:53 AM   #36
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OMG, I've been retired now for 2 years and last night I had a terrible dream about being at my old job.

The boss, who hated me and was disliked immensely in return, gave me a job that was so far outside my expertise that I had no idea how to do it. He gave me an ultimatum to either do it and do it right or he would fire me.

I scrambled and learned the task as I performed it and turned in a half-assed job that he fired me for. The rest of the dream, I was packing my desk and belongings and leaving, while saying goodbye again to all my friends.

Is that a sucky dream or what? I was glad to wake.
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Old 07-22-2011, 10:59 AM   #37
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Hmmm...I don't remember anything from dreams last night. I had a very restless night again.
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Old 07-22-2011, 03:44 PM   #38
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Quote:
Originally Posted by Timothy View Post
OMG, I've been retired now for 2 years and last night I had a terrible dream about being at my old job.

The boss, who hated me and was disliked immensely in return, gave me a job that was so far outside my expertise that I had no idea how to do it. He gave me an ultimatum to either do it and do it right or he would fire me.

I scrambled and learned the task as I performed it and turned in a half-assed job that he fired me for. The rest of the dream, I was packing my desk and belongings and leaving, while saying goodbye again to all my friends.

Is that a sucky dream or what? I was glad to wake.
it's not fair, but it seems we are forever doomed to relive our most painful failures and failings, both real and imagined, as replayed through cruelly punishing dreams. the dreams themselves are most probably shaped and designed by our own harshly unforgiving superegos. i will continue showing up for a final exam without having attended any classes or looked at a textbook. i'll be a lead character in a play, waiting in the wings to go on stage not knowing any of my lines, furiously searching for a script. someone at my work will discover that i'm a fraud and incompetent in my job. and i will continue to pay for these transgressions of--what? of UNPREPAREDNESS--for the rest of my natural r.e.m. life??? as you can see, you are not alone, timothy....
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Old 07-24-2011, 12:27 AM   #39
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I was a female Robin Hood type until some jerk-face shot me with a poison arrow. Then I mutated into a monster that chased children trying to turn them into mutants too so they'd eat their parents. Sometimes my brain really shouldn't be left unattended.
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Just because something has a duck bill doesn't mean it's a platypus. It might just be a duck.
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Old 07-24-2011, 03:30 AM   #40
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Since some of you have been talking about Ghost stories I thought I'd share an experience I had while pregnant with my son. I know many people don't believe in this kind of thing and neither did I till I started seeing it for myself.
I was taking a shower one night when I was about 7 months pregnant and after getting dressed etc I went downstairs and saw a little boy with green eyes and curly light brown hair, for some reason he didn't scare me. When my son was born a month later he looked exactly like the little boy I saw.
I went to a medium a few months after my son was born and he mentioned that my son came to check on me while I was pregnant with him since I was going through a difficult time in my life and that his spirit still leaves his body at night because he has not accepted being here yet and that I shouldn't worry about it.
There was no way he could have known this, I didn't even tell him I had children. Strange!
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