What are you wondering about?
“Am I
reseeding
my imagination,
or just rewilding
with another’s culture,
like making yoghurt?
And what might that mean every day to me?
And when might it not mean anything to me?”
All good questions. Answers?
It might mean:
Observing boredom.
Observing wanting to quit.
Maybe noting
those empty,
zombie-fied
emotions-
bored,
quitting-
Animated in me.
Dreaming in me.
“Dream on,” I whisper these words to you.
“How much of my dreams
are my own?
My dreams? Mine?
Maybe not.”
Elaborate on that.
“How guilty am I
of living others’ dreams?
Making them my own?
Delusions of ‘mine’?
Have I failed to own
my own dreams,
to live them,
really,
to live them.
Not just echoes.”
What else do you observe?
“I see those dreams.
They are all the books on my shelves,
on my desk,
always front and center
in front of me,
sidetracks from my own dreams,
a continuum of words
flowing in and out
of my life,
a river,
a current,
never emptied,
never interrupted,
even as I pull books
from the row
the connection shoots across
the empty gap
whether I put the book back or not
or replace it with something else.”
Why?
Because that dreamy circuit
is kept alive
sparking across me,
it needs me
to live.
Is this a bad thing?
“I never knew
that dreams supplanted
are the same as dreams deferred.
Their flow carries me
downstream
and I can only hope
I find an eddy somewhere
and a sandbank
to drag my undreaming self upon.
Shipwracked.
Bereft.
Dreams rewinding from within,
but new ones this time.
And mine.
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“I can only hope
I find an eddy somewhere ..”
in those moments
where the mind
is a-swirl and twirling
with such nothingness,
a poet focuses on
the center, not
the edge;
the anchor,
not the ledge
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“…the faithful secret that sits in the middle…and knows.”
Thanks for dropping by. There is an interesting story I need to tell about how this poem came to be born. I don’t know if that game is worth the candle. Everyone has his or her own creative process so I am not sure if anyone is interested in this story, but if even one person shows up, I will “teach” it.
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Words
Meaning
Same Words
Different Meaning?
Dreams.
Aspirations?
Or invasions of your mind
as you sleep?
My sleeping dreams are haunted
with aspirations I’ve pursued for 45 years.
Replaying
Over, and Over.
What worked. What did not.
Painful memories.
Appeals for help Mostly ignored.
Which dreams do you refer to?
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I thought at first that you wrote “Which dreams do you defer to?” I think you make me realize that while painful (calls for help ignored, bad memories) you did not ‘defer’ to others’ dreams. I think of someone like Blake whose work went largely unrecognized and I realize that yours is similar. But that does not mean your work was unrealized–so many have been touched by your caring.
Dreams deferred by me:
Music
Calligraphy and sketchnoting
Dance
Publishing my poetry
Beekeeping
Sheep to shawl project
And so much more..
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Terry, of course, we’d love to hear the story of this poem. As always, you’ve inspired my thoughts and reflections. https://flic.kr/p/2n9nmKY Thank you so much.
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Amen to Sheri’s comment. And her response.
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Another voice added to Sheri’s … via Twitter
Kevin