Roswila's Dream & Poetry Realm

SEE ALSO: TRYING TO HOLD A BOX OF LIGHT (photos, realistic to abstract)

Tuesday, September 17, 2019

MEMORIES CONGREGATE (photomorph) & ON WHAT WOULD HAVE BEEN MY BROTHER'S 70TH BIRTHDAY (non-dream tanka pair) by Roswila


ON WHAT WOULD HAVE BEEN
MY BROTHER’S 70TH BIRTHDAY

hand laundry soaks
in the sink, color spreading
through the water,
even as bright bits of last night’s dreams
seep into morning’s mental stewing

it’s all too tempting
to grasp after these surprisingly
upbeat dream fragments
but better they be left to rest as they fade,
along with memories of a lost brother


[non-dream tanka written 9-17-19. BTW, of the four of us in my primary family (mother, father, brother, me) I’m the only one left. My mother died when she was 34, my father at 66, and my brother at 65. I’m still hanging around at going on 76. Although my younger brother and I were estranged at the time of his death, I always had a vague hope we’d reconnect. And even if not, just knowing he was still on the same planet with me was a comfort. Rest in peace, Russ. Photomorph “Memories Congregate” (3-26-14 019v3[2]) by Roswila]

PLEASE NOTE: in most browsers you can click on the above image for a larger version. Also, the photo accompanying a post is not necessarily meant to illustrate it, but to reflect some small, even slant aspect of the verse, similar to Japanese haiga (illustrated haiku).

There are many other sorts of posts on this blog. I indicate which are about or influenced by dreams. Some non dream focused posts are book reviews, "regular" poems (some by other writers), scifaiku, writing exercises, Tarot haiku, photos, haiga, and so on. However, most of those are in much older posts. There's a listing by month going back to early 2006, at the end of the sidebar.

* * * *
until next time, keep dreaming,





[a/k/a Patricia Kelly]
**** If you wish to copy or use any of my writing or poems, please email me for permission (under “View my complete profile”). Roswila's other blog (dedicated to her photos only, i.e. no poetry or other writing; daily post); TRYING TO HOLD A BOX OF LIGHT.

Monday, September 16, 2019

Re-Posting of: DUSTING OFF THE DAY (photo) & UNTIL THE MORROW (free verse dream poem) by Roswila


UNTIL THE MORROW
(stealing from Shakespeare)

out out damn dust!
don't seed this time of rest with pain,
at least until the morrow
when tears may wash
what light in yonder window breaks
and truth slicing like a bare bodkin
shall then be welcome
(if such a pointed blade
were ever thus:
both true and welcomed)


[re-post today of a free verse poem begun in a dream of 1-7-14 and first posted back then. Comments from that first posting: “I was fooling around with snatches of Shakespearian phrasing in my dream, attempting to couch the dream's insight in an appropriate dramatic way. As I did so in the dream the details of the insight got lost beneath the words. But I do recall a habitual denial of mine that the dream was revealing and how uncomfortable it made me feel to hear it. So much so, I guess, that I ultimately distanced myself in the dream by writing about my reaction to it rather than the insight itself.” Today's comment: I don't know if that Romeo & Juliet quote (line #5) works in the overall context of this poem. It's sort of distracting. Hm, I recall having the same question back when I first wrote/dreamed this piece. In any case, the point (pardon the pun) of the poem and how it came to be written in the dream, is still, well, all too pointed. Photo "Dusting Off the Day" (1-20-10 19102e) by Roswila]

PLEASE NOTE: in most browsers you can click on the above image for a larger version. Also, the photo accompanying a post is not necessarily meant to illustrate it, but to reflect some small, even slant aspect of the verse, similar to Japanese haiga (illustrated haiku).

There are many other sorts of posts on this blog. I indicate which are about or influenced by dreams. Some non dream focused posts are book reviews, "regular" poems (some by other writers), scifaiku, writing exercises, Tarot haiku, photos, haiga, and so on. However, most of those are in much older posts. There's a listing by month going back to early 2006, at the end of the sidebar.

* * * *
until next time, keep dreaming,





[a/k/a Patricia Kelly]
**** If you wish to copy or use any of my writing or poems, please email me for permission (under “View my complete profile”). Roswila's other blog (dedicated to her photos only, i.e. no poetry or other writing; daily post); TRYING TO HOLD A BOX OF LIGHT.

Sunday, September 15, 2019

MANIPULATION GONE WILD (photomorph) & ON BEING PROSELYTIZED (free verse dream poem) by Roswila


ON BEING PROSELYTIZED

that they’ve sent me a flyer for their event after all these years
of nothing from them (happily) leads me to believe (and very
strongly) they’re after me again to get involved with their
church and even (as I almost … phew! … a great many years
ago did) join as one of the faithful; as always, they’re trying
to draw me in by emphasizing their arts program; and get this!
their arts clubs and classes and showcases were always – and
from this flyer, still are – housed in their basement; as I read
through the masses (pun intended) of info on this text-dense
sheet of paper, I remember how lighting (too little) and heat
(too much or not enough) had always been an issue in that
barren, below street-level space -- used at other times for their
lunch program for the indigent; yeah, and starving artists (you
should pardon another pun, though in some cases “starving”
was not then and is not now so far off the mark) should also be
aided by the community that they offer their work to and
for whom they express important concerns: but at what cost!?
I’ve never been able to tolerate being proselytized, I can spot
it at 20 paces no matter how carefully camouflaged, especially
when it’s my soul being grasped after beneath all the whiz
and flash bang of the sell; so, no matter how
attractively it’s packaged they can’t inveigle me;
I guess for all my echoing emptiness,
I’m just not hungry enough


[free verse poem on a dream of 9-14-19. This is most basically (right now in my life) about relationships. That pressure we put on each other to be someone other than who we are for our own personal comfort or gain. (To be kinder, sometimes because we think it’s the right thing to do in order to “save” or “help” someone.) An additional input to this dream is the fact that there is also a certain amount of both subtle and no so subtle religious proselytizing going on where I live. BTW, this dream drew its imagery from an actual time in my long-ago youth. I did almost join a church, having been drawn in by their (basement-housed) arts program(s). The upshot to this all -- and the irony being -- I want very much to belong. It just has never worked out for me; it has always cost way too much or turned out to be a sham. I’m a bit hesitant to admit this here, but I feel pretty much the same way about relationships. BWL (big wry laugh), I started these comments saying as much. Photomorph “Manipulation Gone Wild” (4-14-12 11684v2) by Roswila]

PLEASE NOTE: in most browsers you can click on the above image for a larger version. Also, the photo accompanying a post is not necessarily meant to illustrate it, but to reflect some small, even slant aspect of the verse, similar to Japanese haiga (illustrated haiku).

There are many other sorts of posts on this blog. I indicate which are about or influenced by dreams. Some non dream focused posts are book reviews, "regular" poems (some by other writers), scifaiku, writing exercises, Tarot haiku, photos, haiga, and so on. However, most of those are in much older posts. There's a listing by month going back to early 2006, at the end of the sidebar.

* * * *
until next time, keep dreaming,





[a/k/a Patricia Kelly]
**** If you wish to copy or use any of my writing or poems, please email me for permission (under “View my complete profile”). Roswila's other blog (dedicated to her photos only, i.e. no poetry or other writing; daily post); TRYING TO HOLD A BOX OF LIGHT.

Saturday, September 14, 2019

SHADOWS ON THE MOVE (photomorph) & SHADOW TRIANGULATION (free verse dream poem) by Roswila


SHADOW TRIANGULATION

first, it’s a red-headed woman: she’s cleaned my
rooms without even asking me! hey, no matter
that they really needed it! it’s the invasion and
the lack of respect for my independence that’s
so odious, worse than all that gossiping
about me I’ve always sensed she does;

then, it’s a somewhat portly blonde female,
whose mind is so wobbly I fear having anything
to do with her at all, as if any contact, even a
gentle smile from me, could knock her out of
her precarious balance into a tornadic spin:
why, oh, why is she talking to me?!?

and lastly, there’s her, a woman I’ve
known the longest and always feared for her
ability to sway social situations so thoroughly
and extensively; after all, I’m not the most
welcome in or adept at swimming my way
through the shoals she manages to navigate
readily, even as she re-organizes them to
her own liking;

what do these three distinct angles on the
female of our species point to about me, the
depressed and deeply insecure fourth: does
each tell me something that I cannot see
about myself* … sigh, like all well-defined
shadows do …

and an ancient memory** spreads like spilled
ink through the dream: shadows build beneath
tall, harsh street lights on a narrow empty
midnight street, as I approach and walk down
concrete steps to a basement space, alone and
vaguely content to once again stand in this
sparsely furnished room with pale yellow
lamplight the only thing hanging on
the bare white walls for my perusal


[free verse poem on a dream of 9-12-19. * I do, every once in a great while, begin analyzing a dream while I’m still dreaming. ** And I was ever so slightly aware – in the dream – that this last is a memory. (A rather dreamlike memory from my childhood; I could not have been more than 5 or 6 years old.) BTW, for info on the term “shadow” in a psychological sense: Jungian shadow. Photomorph “Shadows on the Move” (ScreenShots many 2-05-19[4]) by Roswila]

PLEASE NOTE: in most browsers you can click on the above image for a larger version. Also, the photo accompanying a post is not necessarily meant to illustrate it, but to reflect some small, even slant aspect of the verse, similar to Japanese haiga (illustrated haiku).

There are many other sorts of posts on this blog. I indicate which are about or influenced by dreams. Some non dream focused posts are book reviews, "regular" poems (some by other writers), scifaiku, writing exercises, Tarot haiku, photos, haiga, and so on. However, most of those are in much older posts. There's a listing by month going back to early 2006, at the end of the sidebar.

* * * *
until next time, keep dreaming,





[a/k/a Patricia Kelly]
**** If you wish to copy or use any of my writing or poems, please email me for permission (under “View my complete profile”). Roswila's other blog (dedicated to her photos only, i.e. no poetry or other writing; daily post); TRYING TO HOLD A BOX OF LIGHT.

Friday, September 13, 2019

THE PERSISTENCE OF TIME (photomorph) & "bright sunlight ..." (non-dream haiku)


bright sunlight
the age of this old notebook
undeniable


[haiku written 9-12-19. Photomorph “The Persistence of Time” (6-28-09 2988v4a[7]) by Roswila]

PLEASE NOTE: in most browsers you can click on the above image for a larger version. Also, the photo accompanying a post is not necessarily meant to illustrate it, but to reflect some small, even slant aspect of the verse, similar to Japanese haiga (illustrated haiku).

There are many other sorts of posts on this blog. I indicate which are about or influenced by dreams. Some non dream focused posts are book reviews, "regular" poems (some by other writers), scifaiku, writing exercises, Tarot haiku, photos, haiga, and so on. However, most of those are in much older posts. There's a listing by month going back to early 2006, at the end of the sidebar.

* * * *
until next time, keep dreaming,





[a/k/a Patricia Kelly]
**** If you wish to copy or use any of my writing or poems, please email me for permission (under “View my complete profile”). Roswila's other blog (dedicated to her photos only, i.e. no poetry or other writing; daily post); TRYING TO HOLD A BOX OF LIGHT.

Thursday, September 12, 2019

HERD MENTALITY (photomorph) & IS IT ANY WONDER (dream) by Roswila


IS IT ANY WONDER

is it any wonder at all, Patricia, that you feel so
out of it all, so crazy, so just plain wrong in
everyone’s eyes (even your own)? after looking
back through the decades of your life, trailing
behind you like children for whom you are
still responsible and who demand what you
cannot, nay, will not ever be able or willing
to give them, don’t you get it? you’re living in
that same cult now you kept wrenching yourself
out of back then, when you were not only stronger
physically but emotionally more resilient; and now,
here you are, an old and rapidly getting older and
more debilitated woman who can no longer fully
escape, either the cult or the desire to belong, to
be part of this (albeit clearly deluded group), no
matter you don’t fit in, not one whit; I mean, what
did you expect when you shared that nearly nude
dance of yours you worked so long and hard on?
kudos?!? honey! get and stay real for once; you
knew your performance would be ignored, even
the head honcho’s command that from now on
he must review for content all artistic works
before they are put before the full “community”
(his word for the sheep he’s brain washed) is no
surprise; ok, ok, keep the satisfaction of having
done the dance, more artfully and openly free of
all encumbrances (and as a result, exposing in
your naked sharing the cult’s mental denseness),
than anything you’ve created in quite some time,
maybe even ever, but that’s all you will get and
you know that’s never been enough and only
exacerbates the loneliness; there’s nothing else
that could possibly ever come to you from a herd
of exceptionally numbed out sheep, whose manic
shepherd is convinced he knows and teaches
everything, but who only parrots the fumes
rising from the fissures in his own mind


[dream of 9-11-19. As I’ve said about other dreams, this puts me in mind of the fairy tale “The Emperor’s New Clothes.” In this case, without any sense that “speaking out” can ever make a difference. It’s probably good (if very depressing) to recognize that I am, once again, in a “cult.” Though I hasten to add, IMHO, most of what we humans call community, has the ear marks to one degree or other of a cult. BTW, I do not speak casually of such matters. I was in two actual cults in my much younger years. The first a political cult I somehow knew to flee even though I’d believed myself to be deeply committed and in which I was quite involved. The second, a psychotherapy one. I did a lot of cult research as I disentangled myself from that one. I think worst of all this, though, is to recognize (as I did on waking this morning) that this “manic shepherd” lives inside me, as well. I also note an association I have to those fumes/fissures at the end to the ancient Oracle at Delphi who sat above a fuming fissure on a three-legged stool and made her predictions. I need to do some more thinking on this particular image/association. Photomorph “Herd Mentality” (Screenshots many 2-7-19[9]) by Roswila]

PLEASE NOTE: in most browsers you can click on the above image for a larger version. Also, the photo accompanying a post is not necessarily meant to illustrate it, but to reflect some small, even slant aspect of the verse, similar to Japanese haiga (illustrated haiku).

There are many other sorts of posts on this blog. I indicate which are about or influenced by dreams. Some non dream focused posts are book reviews, "regular" poems (some by other writers), scifaiku, writing exercises, Tarot haiku, photos, haiga, and so on. However, most of those are in much older posts. There's a listing by month going back to early 2006, at the end of the sidebar.

* * * *
until next time, keep dreaming,





[a/k/a Patricia Kelly]
**** If you wish to copy or use any of my writing or poems, please email me for permission (under “View my complete profile”). Roswila's other blog (dedicated to her photos only, i.e. no poetry or other writing; daily post); TRYING TO HOLD A BOX OF LIGHT.

Wednesday, September 11, 2019

WE WILL NEVER FORGET -- 9-11 In Memoriam

Friday, August 30, 2019

DANCE OF MOURNING (photomorph) & BEARING UP (dream) by Roswila


BEARING UP

I’ve been permitted to, nay, required to observe
this legal proceeding; at first, I think that the
middle-aged, dark-haired man is being accused
of some transgression that is going to get him
disbarred; all the legal papers carry the symbol
of a bear and there’s a tremendous amount of jaw
boning and paper shuffling (and little reading),
with nothing being given any sort of justice:
the accused’s case does not seem to change or
clarify one whit; then the judge demands silence,
there are many more folk in the shadows than I’d
been aware of, no wonder all the fuss and crackling
tension as he holds up a bound sheaf of papers,
a thick legal writ he’s been paging through; it’s
very old, released in the 1950’s (dust and tiny bits
of crumbling paper flitter from it’s green-gold
cover as he lifts it up for viewing); it’s the record
and results of the determination of the accused’s
case, i.e., how he was declared guilty and disbarred
(ah! I realize, today is a re-trial); the judge then
firmly proclaims his decision, a reversal of that
ancient verdict: the no-longer accused can practice
his trade skill again; I see how relieved and grateful
the no-longer accused is, but think rather sardonically:
now all that’s left to be done is to reverse the life-long
chain of consequences he’s had to bear for that
totally wrong-minded verdict


[last dream of 8-28-19. This is the dream I mentioned in my comments to yesterday’s post. The second of two dreams that bookended the dreams of 8-28-19. There’s a pun in this one that may not come across. I only became aware of it myself when I wrote the last line. That “bear” image at the beginning, and that “bear”ing of a life-long burden referred to at the end. Put another way, I think that bear symbol at the start was a visual representation, a foreshadowing, if you will, of the weighty endurance referenced at the end. (In a humorous and all too real vein, I can hear the expression “cross as an old bear” in the dream’s beginning.) Additionally, in my comments to yesterday's post I mentioned how my father had secretly blamed my brother for our mother's early death. That must have been a terrible, unconscious burden that my brother bore all his life. I could go on endlessly here, but will let it rest. So much was stirred up by these two dreams, that I’ll be dealing with the fallout for some time to come. Photomorph “Dance of Mourning” (Archival Pix 6-12-09 2147v2[3]) by Roswila]

PLEASE NOTE: in most browsers you can click on the above image for a larger version. Also, the photo accompanying a post is not necessarily meant to illustrate it, but to reflect some small, even slant aspect of the verse, similar to Japanese haiga (illustrated haiku).

There are many other sorts of posts on this blog. I indicate which are about or influenced by dreams. Some non dream focused posts are book reviews, "regular" poems (some by other writers), scifaiku, writing exercises, Tarot haiku, photos, haiga, and so on. However, most of those are in much older posts. There's a listing by month going back to early 2006, at the end of the sidebar.

* * * *
until next time, keep dreaming,





[a/k/a Patricia Kelly]
**** If you wish to copy or use any of my writing or poems, please email me for permission (under “View my complete profile”). Roswila's other blog (dedicated to her photos only, i.e. no poetry or other writing; daily post); TRYING TO HOLD A BOX OF LIGHT.

Thursday, August 29, 2019

THE PETITIONER (photo) & WHAT MATTERS INNOCENCE (a dream) by Roswila


WHAT MATTERS INNOCENCE

though I’m rather sure I’m not responsible for having killed
the woman, I rush around my dark, wood-paneled old
apartment in a high panic, trying to figure out where to hide
the body (at least for now) and how? (as is? swaddled somehow?
boxed?); I quickly decide on boxing up her stiffening body
and immediately get nauseous at an image in my mind of her
being cut into sections; hey, I’ll hide her to keep from being
charged with her murder but that’s as far as I’ll go; even though
I’m more and more certain I’m not responsible for her death,
I recognize that the situation casts me in the light of killer; ah!
perfect! a large empty carton! I wrestle the body (limbs are
amazingly stubborn and heavy when being forced from their
steadily stiffer positions) into the old shipping carton and shove
the now full box, inch by painful inch (I might as well be
entering rigor mortis myself, with all the loud arthritic popping
and cracking going on) to the bathroom, off of which are two
large, well-hidden storage closets, praying all the while there
will be enough room left in one of them among all the junk
I’ve shoved into them over the years (outta sight, outta mind,
you know); good, good, one thing may actually be going my
way, there’s room in the closet on the left side; I barely have
time to close the panel door and savor the relief with a big
sigh before I begin worrying again; I won’t be able to leave
her there long, odor will be a (pardon the morbid pun) dead
give away very soon; so, how can I permanently and safely
dispose of the body; images of it being hack-sawed rise again
and I instantly dismiss them, clamping down on the rising
nausea, while I think: an ocean dump? an earth burial? sigh,
they both require so much additional planning, not to
mention the physical labor for my own rapidly deteriorating
old body; maybe I’d actually do better to just out her
boxed body and take my chances with the law and courts,
after all (though it hasn’t mattered a hell of a lot in other
situations in my long life) I am innocent


[first of two dreams of 8-28-19. I will probably post the last dream of that evening tomorrow. It’s very clearly related to this one. An image in the last one goes back overtly to the 1950’s, which is when my mother died (I was 10). Over the years I wondered if my father had killed her, and also at times, myself, in some way. (And my father once admitted to me, when I was a middle-aged adult, that he felt awful for having secretly blamed my brother for her death. It’s an awfully sad comment on my relationship with my father, but that was the only truly deep and honest sharing we ever had.) I’m reminded of the Catholic concept of original sin here. There’s no escaping it. In any case, I haven’t wrestled this deeply with the issue of guilt/sin in a long time. Nor with being forgiven/forgiving (that comes up in the other dream I’ll post tomorrow.) Omigosh! I just associated trying to dispose of the dead woman, with a struggle I’m having trying to decide out how to rid myself of a Triple Goddess statue I have. Lotsa guilty feelings involved as it was given to me by a good friend, and it is of a Goddess. One I used to revere, back in the day when I was doing that sort of thing. But I no longer relate to it and it’s quite cumbersome (and I’ve always thought, an unfortunately poor rendering) and I don’t just want to store it on my already full shelves … etc., etc. This association is not to trivialize the dream. But to show a probable source in day memory of the image and feelings the dream uses and expands deeply upon. Photo “The Petitioner” (Archival Pix 6-11-09 2105e) by Roswila]

PLEASE NOTE: in most browsers you can click on the above image for a larger version. Also, the photo accompanying a post is not necessarily meant to illustrate it, but to reflect some small, even slant aspect of the verse, similar to Japanese haiga (illustrated haiku).

There are many other sorts of posts on this blog. I indicate which are about or influenced by dreams. Some non dream focused posts are book reviews, "regular" poems (some by other writers), scifaiku, writing exercises, Tarot haiku, photos, haiga, and so on. However, most of those are in much older posts. There's a listing by month going back to early 2006, at the end of the sidebar.

* * * *
until next time, keep dreaming,





[a/k/a Patricia Kelly]
**** If you wish to copy or use any of my writing or poems, please email me for permission (under “View my complete profile”). Roswila's other blog (dedicated to her photos only, i.e. no poetry or other writing; daily post); TRYING TO HOLD A BOX OF LIGHT.

Wednesday, August 21, 2019

EARTH CHANGES (photomorph) & "the lively old man..." (non-dream tanka) by Roswila


the lively old man
keeps filling holes in the packed earth
of the parking field:
pulling a small wagon isn’t
just for little kids anymore


[tanka written 8-16-19. Photomorph “Earth Changes” (Archival 5-25-09 PICT1726v14d) by Roswila]

PLEASE NOTE: in most browsers you can click on the above image for a larger version. Also, the photo accompanying a post is not necessarily meant to illustrate it, but to reflect some small, even slant aspect of the verse, similar to Japanese haiga (illustrated haiku).

There are many other sorts of posts on this blog. I indicate which are about or influenced by dreams. Some non dream focused posts are book reviews, "regular" poems (some by other writers), scifaiku, writing exercises, Tarot haiku, photos, haiga, and so on. However, most of those are in much older posts. There's a listing by month going back to early 2006, at the end of the sidebar.

* * * *
until next time, keep dreaming,





[a/k/a Patricia Kelly]
**** If you wish to copy or use any of my writing or poems, please email me for permission (under “View my complete profile”). Roswila's other blog (dedicated to her photos only, i.e. no poetry or other writing; daily post); TRYING TO HOLD A BOX OF LIGHT.

Tuesday, August 20, 2019

THE DEFEATED DREAM (photomorph) & WISHING I COULD THROW IN THE TOWEL (narrative on a nightmare) by Roswila


WISHING I COULD THROW IN THE TOWEL

…how will I ever get rid of this huge, clingy towel-scarf?
not only is it massively strong, it’s sentient, doing
it’s damnedest to smother/strangle the (so-called)
life right out of me (it flashes briefly through my
horrified mind that it’s rather odd I’m scared s—t
and fighting so incredibly hard, as you’d think
at this point I’d welcome an end to it all) …

… and where the hell am I, anyway? what bedroom is
this and what bed am I lying in? nothing at all about
this space, not one whit of its physicality or its
ambience, feels safe and secure; I recognize it
all yet can’t really place it, though that bookcase
over there to my left is definitely mine …

… oh, no, a house pet is coming up behind me as I lie
here on my left side; I can’t tell if it’s a cat or dog
(I’d much prefer a cat, of course, if there has to be a
pet here at all), ack! it’s slobber-licking at my
shoulder and neck, and that obvious, out of control
action means it’s a dog, yes, it surely is and it’s a
Jack Russell terrier at that -- that breed name is my
father’s stage name!* -- slobbering all over me, well
at least that heinous towel-scarf’s gone, though
this may be quite a nightmare trade-off given my
history with biting and unfriendly dogs …

… yikes! what’s that growling? it’s not the dog, it’s
human, a human male, shadowy and bulky, hulking
in the dark where the dog came from behind my back!
how’d he get in? (and as to where I am, I still don’t
know for sure what bedroom I’m in though it’s
looking more and more familiar, if no more safe
or welcoming); I both want a good look at
the threatening man, as he hulk-hovers there
(I still can only describe the sound he’s making as
growling) and do not want to see him –
he’s scaring the bejesus out of me …

…oy! I wake myself up,** my stomach knotting,
afraid to breathe, fearful of moving and attracting
more anxiety-causing unknowns and, even more
so, that I’ll fall back to sleep and continue to
tangle with image after nightmare image …


[narrative on a dream of 8-17-19. *My father's stage name was actually Jack Russell. **As I’ve said here before about my rare nightmares, I do almost always consciously – within the dream – wake myself up to get away from it. BTW, I'm not at all sure of the source(s) -- much less meaning(s) -- of this group of images. My guess would be a combination of factors: I’m eating differently, the full moon was just starting to wane, I’ve had some major changes in relationships, my emotional world’s been more out of denial than ever in my entire life (i.e., I’m feeling things more directly and deeply, both past and present), as I more thoroughly question my understandings and actions, and so on. Photomorph “The Dream Defeated” (Archival/PICT1613[3]) by Roswila]

PLEASE NOTE: in most browsers you can click on the above image for a larger version. Also, the photo accompanying a post is not necessarily meant to illustrate it, but to reflect some small, even slant aspect of the verse, similar to Japanese haiga (illustrated haiku).

There are many other sorts of posts on this blog. I indicate which are about or influenced by dreams. Some non dream focused posts are book reviews, "regular" poems (some by other writers), scifaiku, writing exercises, Tarot haiku, photos, haiga, and so on. However, most of those are in much older posts. There's a listing by month going back to early 2006, at the end of the sidebar.

* * * *
until next time, keep dreaming,





[a/k/a Patricia Kelly]
**** If you wish to copy or use any of my writing or poems, please email me for permission (under “View my complete profile”). Roswila's other blog (dedicated to her photos only, i.e. no poetry or other writing; daily post); TRYING TO HOLD A BOX OF LIGHT.

Sunday, August 18, 2019

SHOUT OUT TO THE SUN (photo) & "just like so much smoke...." (non-dream tanka) by Roswila


just like so much smoke
their conversations float up
from the hot poolside,
as I doze to the syncopation
of their overlapping burbling


[non-dream tanka written 8-18-19. My concern? That there are too many implied images crowded into this one little poem. Hope the reader won’t get metaphorical indigestion!
😊 At least I’m choosing to post this one I just experienced and not the nightmare-based poem from my dreams of last night. That dark one will most certainly be lengthy once I’ve completed it. Yeah, I rarely have true nightmares but last night sure made up for that. I’ll probably foist it upon any reader(s) of this blog tomorrow. Photo “Shout Out to the Sun” (11-20-18 002v2[2]) by Roswila]

PLEASE NOTE: in most browsers you can click on the above image for a larger version. Also, the photo accompanying a post is not necessarily meant to illustrate it, but to reflect some small, even slant aspect of the verse, similar to Japanese haiga (illustrated haiku).

There are many other sorts of posts on this blog. I indicate which are about or influenced by dreams. Some non dream focused posts are book reviews, "regular" poems (some by other writers), scifaiku, writing exercises, Tarot haiku, photos, haiga, and so on. However, most of those are in much older posts. There's a listing by month going back to early 2006, at the end of the sidebar.

* * * *
until next time, keep dreaming,





[a/k/a Patricia Kelly]
**** If you wish to copy or use any of my writing or poems, please email me for permission (under “View my complete profile”). Roswila's other blog (dedicated to her photos only, i.e. no poetry or other writing; daily post); TRYING TO HOLD A BOX OF LIGHT.

Saturday, August 17, 2019

WIPING THE PLATTER CLEAN (photomorph) & WHEN THE CHIPS ARE DOWN (free verse dream poem) by Roswila


WHEN THE CHIPS ARE DOWN

damnation!! I knew Dad saw me put that small
package of cookies away on the cabinet shelf,
and now I have to deal with his “request” to go
dig out one of the biggest for him -- no use to
point out I’m on a massively tight budget and
they’re the first treat I’ve bought for myself
in some time -- and, as luck would have it,
we’re in a huge rush to get to an appointment
on time -- leave it to him to insist on this now
-- not only that, but he’s always such a pain
in the butt when it comes to food, he’s just a
big fuss budget -- I can see I’m not gonna
get outta this mishigoss* quickly -- let’s
see, OK, he wanted the biggest but the big
ones aren’t chocolate chip and he will almost
certainly not want this huge oatmeal one
even with the bright cherry in its middle;
sigh, as that old joke in an entirely different
vein goes, “size matters,” so I’ll offer him
the oatmeal one anyway -- ack! just as
I’d thought, he’s grousing that it’s not
chocolate chip! see if I ever stash away
my goodies within his sight ever again
-- there’s no winning with this
Evil-Eye Fleegle**


[free verse poem on a dream of 8-14-19. *The Yiddish spelling of this word is “mishegoss.” But I've also seen it as I spell it above, with no reference to it's being Yiddish and with a very slightly different meaning. Either meaning will do within the context of this dream, as it basically can be said to mean “mess.” **Evil-Eye Fleegle, a comic book character who was often invoked by my parents in my childhood. (Scoll down on the page the link is to, for more info about this character.) I haven’t thought of it in (it must be) a great many years. So, it gave me quite a giggle to recall dreaming it. I also find the two sexual allusions (“size matters” and “cherry”) amusing, if also fraught with meaning. (Especially given my childhood history of sexual abuse within the family.) I’d be less than honest if I didn’t mention that the “Dad” in the dream was a combo of my father and a man currently in my life. (He looked like a youngish version of my Dad, but felt very much like that man I know now.) And do I even need to point out the basic metaphor of food? My primary addiction? Additionally, we’re under a full moon right now. I could go on, but I’ll leave it be. This is one of those many layered dreams that I’ll be thinking about for some time to come. Photomorph “Wiping the Platter Clean” (7-28-09 4458v7c[2]) by Roswila]

PLEASE NOTE: in most browsers you can click on the above image for a larger version. Also, the photo accompanying a post is not necessarily meant to illustrate it, but to reflect some small, even slant aspect of the verse, similar to Japanese haiga (illustrated haiku).

There are many other sorts of posts on this blog. I indicate which are about or influenced by dreams. Some non dream focused posts are book reviews, "regular" poems (some by other writers), scifaiku, writing exercises, Tarot haiku, photos, haiga, and so on. However, most of those are in much older posts. There's a listing by month going back to early 2006, at the end of the sidebar.

* * * *
until next time, keep dreaming,





[a/k/a Patricia Kelly]
**** If you wish to copy or use any of my writing or poems, please email me for permission (under “View my complete profile”). Roswila's other blog (dedicated to her photos only, i.e. no poetry or other writing; daily post); TRYING TO HOLD A BOX OF LIGHT.

Thursday, August 15, 2019

CYCLOPS UNMASKED (photomorph) & THE TRUE BEAUTY OF A MASK (free verse dream poem) by Roswila


THE TRUE BEAUTY OF A MASK

he’s so gross: dirty, angry, twisted
he’s almost not human, but I’m
inexplicably drawn to him; although
I’ve frozen everyone out, locking up
even the slightest vestige of caring
for anyone (faked or real) denying it
all as too painful, in an odd way, as
if having taken my final vows for
fully cloistered nun-hood; and so
I tell him, speaking in hushed tones
as if sliding aside the little panel
in a catholic confessional myself,
not waiting for some priest to do
it for us: You know, you don’t
have to be this way all the time
… no, no, I’m not suggesting you
become someone other than who
you are, not at all, I’d never do
that, the struggle to be ourselves
no matter who or what we sense
that self may be, is all many of us
ever has in this life … but I am
saying you can leave this essential,
semi-nonhuman self of yours behind
once in a while, take a vacation, so
to speak, from him, even more for
your own sake than for anyone else’s;
yes, yes, consciously use your over-
developed ability to deny and do it
in your own favor for a change:
putting on a good face once in a
while never hurt anyone, and might
help you; just remember the true
beauty of a mask: one simply takes
it off when it gets too hot, letting
the reality it contained for a time,
human or no, breathe freely
again, unobstructed


[free verse poem on a dream of 8-14-19. Photomorph “Cyclops Unmasked” (6-28-09 2988v4) by Roswila]

PLEASE NOTE: in most browsers you can click on the above image for a larger version. Also, the photo accompanying a post is not necessarily meant to illustrate it, but to reflect some small, even slant aspect of the verse, similar to Japanese haiga (illustrated haiku).

There are many other sorts of posts on this blog. I indicate which are about or influenced by dreams. Some non dream focused posts are book reviews, "regular" poems (some by other writers), scifaiku, writing exercises, Tarot haiku, photos, haiga, and so on. However, most of those are in much older posts. There's a listing by month going back to early 2006, at the end of the sidebar.

* * * *
until next time, keep dreaming,





[a/k/a Patricia Kelly]
**** If you wish to copy or use any of my writing or poems, please email me for permission (under “View my complete profile”). Roswila's other blog (dedicated to her photos only, i.e. no poetry or other writing; daily post); TRYING TO HOLD A BOX OF LIGHT.