Barbara L
Traveling Welcome Wagon
It was like something from a comedy movie! Very vivid!Gotta tell ya, this last part made me laugh! I got an image of you, your hubby and the other couple flying down the street on those gurneys...
What a hoot!
Describe the dream you had last night
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purple.alien.giraffe
Executive Chef
My dreams are all over the place. They're usually in color although sometimes certain parts of dreams will sometimes be what I'd call "artistically grey-scaled". They'd fade to mostly black and white, or a monochrome scheme with colored objects being emphasized, or certain people or parts of the setting being in color. I experience whatever senses are most important to the "story" at the time. Sometimes I'm in my dreams, sometimes I'm not. Sometimes I'm myself in my dreams and sometimes I'm someone else. Some are third person, some are first person, some switch back and forth. Sometimes I can change them if I realize I'm dreaming and other times I can't.
Recently the dreams I've remembered have been pretty gruesome and anxiety producing. Kind of like if the Criminal Minds crew did a crossover episode with The X Files and Outer Limits. Really creepy and disturbing. Not sure what's causing them but I can't wait until they're done.
I have a dream that I actually like that I turned into a poem for my creative writing class last semester. If you guys are interested I can post it.
Recently the dreams I've remembered have been pretty gruesome and anxiety producing. Kind of like if the Criminal Minds crew did a crossover episode with The X Files and Outer Limits. Really creepy and disturbing. Not sure what's causing them but I can't wait until they're done.
I have a dream that I actually like that I turned into a poem for my creative writing class last semester. If you guys are interested I can post it.
I'm interested.
Bizarre. That about sums it up.
vitauta
Executive Chef
purple alien giraffe - please post poem. as a child i believed that i would die in real life if the monster ever actually caught me, if i ever hit bottom after falling from a cliff, etc., etc. then one fine nightmarish night i DID hit bottom after falling from a mountaintop (too much roadrunner?) and upon landing, bounced high and softly and happily harmlessly at the bottom, like a beach ball, to my waking surprise....
as a child i believed that i would die in real life if the monster ever actually caught me, if i ever hit bottom after falling from a cliff, etc., etc. then one fine nightmarish night i DID hit bottom after falling from a mountaintop (too much roadrunner?) and upon landing, bounced high and softly and happily harmlessly at the bottom, like a beach ball, to my waking surprise....
joesfolk
Head Chef
- Joined
- Aug 31, 2010
- Messages
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Last night I had the most bizarre dream of my life and I would not described it to anyone to save my life! I'm embarrassed to even have had it!
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Timothy
Head Chef
purple alien giraffe - please post poem.
That's pretty cool! I've always abruptly awakened the instant before the final act. You mind took care of itself!
niquejim
Senior Cook
I never remember my dreams although this morning I awoke to the double sonic boom from the last shuttle landing as it passed over our area a few minutes before touchdown. Of course I was sure someone was in the house and after turning the news on I realized what had happened
vitauta
Executive Chef
sad. the end of an era....
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Timothy
Head Chef
I'll betcha they are working on or testing a new type of shuttle out as we speak. It's somewhere in the desert and taking off directly from the ground and flying into orbit with capability of carrying 20 people.
Betcha!
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purple.alien.giraffe
Executive Chef
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.”
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.”
niquejim
Senior Cook
hey giraffe
I remember fantasies like like(albeit 30+ years ago) after a night picking fresh mushrooms. I'm not talking morels or porcini
I remember fantasies like like(albeit 30+ years ago) after a night picking fresh mushrooms. I'm not talking morels or porcini
Beautiful Jess! Love it!
purple.alien.giraffe
Executive Chef
Thanks PF!
vitauta
Executive Chef
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....
OP
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Timothy
Head Chef
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.
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.
Hmmm...I don't remember anything from dreams last night. I had a very restless night again.
vitauta
Executive Chef
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....
purple.alien.giraffe
Executive Chef
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.
Snip 13
Master Chef
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!
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!
