Current events, movies I’ve seen, books and articles I’ve read, and conversations I’ve been having all have me thinking about a lot of things. While walking the dog this morning, I had a realization that led to this poem.
Tag Archives: dream poetry
Day 4, LexPoMo 2020
Day 16, NaPoWriMo 2020
This is not an actual dream but a series of images that came to mind as I was reading poems other people had written about their dreams.
Unconscious
At the beginning of the dream
I stand at the end of the pier.
A light north breeze blows steady
so the leaves on the cottonwoods
flap like church fans and whisper
among themselves. The water
ripples dark and translucent, a sheet
of shifting obsidian flakes. No boats
or cottages or people or other piers
are there; I am alone with the lake.
In the middle of the dream I drift
above the deepest part in that green
rowboat with the wooden oars,
the lake so clear I see the bottom
criss-crossed by large torpedo
shapes some hundred feet below.
Smaller fish glide or dart through
the intervening space, every shade
of green with flashes of gold
and silver, turquoise and emerald.
In the end of the dream I float
just below the surface and watch
the slow undulation of seaweed
in distant shallows. Minnows
nibble at the hairs on my arms
and legs, tickling. My face
breaks the surface and I take
deep, slow breaths before I sink
a few feet and jack-knife
toward the bottom.
Comments Off on Day 16, NaPoWriMo 2020
Posted in Poetry
Tagged dream poetry, NaPoMo, NaPoWriMo, National Poetry Month, National Poetry Writing Month
Day 6, LexPoMo 2018
I wrote two poems this morning, the second derived from the first. I chose the second to post on the LexPoMo web site; the first is also posted here, just for interest.
Perversity of memory
Last night I said something
in a dream, and some part of me
thought, Take note of that – it will make
a good poem tomorrow. But today I don’t recall
what I said, only that it was a fragment
of poetry I wanted to remember.
Reblogged from the Lexington Poetry Month website: https://lexpomo.com/poem/perversity-of-memory/
This is the poem that gave rise to the poem above.
Beginning to remember
lately I’ve been remembering dreams
again, but not really – remembering
that I had a dream worth remembering,
remembering that there was an image
or phrase or sequence of unfolding
action that I wanted to remember
even though I don’t remember the thing
itself, I feel strangely encouraged
that I remember there was something
in my dream worth remembering
The 18th of NaPoMo 2018
This year I decided to take a more holistic approach to NaPoMo, because writing is only part of my work as a poet. On the days I haven’t drafted new poems, I’ve been revising existing poems, looking for places to send them, and READING lots and lots of amazing poetry from around the world.
Here are a couple I drafted from phrases in a post at the Natural Dreamwork blog. They are a hybrid of found poetry and erasure poetry.
Natural healing process
skin your knee, the body mobilizes
the wound closes, the bleeding stops, a scab forms
leukocytes engage and destroy
fibroblasts build new skin
eventually the scar may fade
***
Failed dream
it’s against the law to remove antlers
from a national park
the wounded elk might be easy to miss
buried in a narrative
dreams are not narratives
they are a movement of feelings
the experience of space, time, and feeling
aren’t really separable
an image appears and beckons
wants to be my mirror
that bloody wound is my medicine
to face it becomes a healing
story-making spins away
distances, fails to notice the image
making it about anything
but feelings
the medicine isn’t always delivered
Source material: http://thenaturaldream.com/dreams-are-not-narratives-they-are-a-movement-of-feelings/
Work is not an excuse
In case anyone was wondering, I haven’t died or finally been committed to an asylum (though I expect both in due time.) Rather, I’ve been completely immersed in a wonderful manuscript project with a lovely client who happens to be an art historian. That has meant end notes, figures, captions, appendices, an index, and Chicago’s 16th Edition – an editor’s dream job!
For years I’ve told told everyone (myself included) that editing uses the same parts of the brain as writing, so when I’m working on an editing project I’m not able to write. I now realize that isn’t true. Although there’s a certain degree of overlap, editing uses a good deal more left-brain function than writing, which relies primarily on right-brain operations.
The upshot of this discovery is that I can no longer use work (editing) as an excuse not to work (writing). It’s surprising how liberating that feels.
Resolve
I woke this morning from sound sleep
and poetry – no words remained
in mind, only the clear knowledge
I had shaped verse as I went about
the business of the dream.
So today I wrote again
after too many weeks of letting life
and other work take up all
available space and time and energy –
but no more.
Tagged dream poetry, dreams, editing, life, work, work/life balance, writing
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