Roswila's Dream & Poetry Realm

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

Friday, February 29, 2008


So, here I am at my computer in my new home in California. It’s been an exhausting three weeks since getting here. But good, yes, definitely the right move at the right time. This old hermit is even enjoying meeting lots of interesting and very nice people (there are over 200 residents in this retirement community).

The dreamku covering the first ten days of February I had to post in one batch as I did not have computer access until the tenth and my record keeping was rather erratic. But after that, it was the usual one-a-day.

My only overall observation on seeing the entire month’s dreamku is that I made more comments and wrote many more dreamku series than usual. Seems my need to express is even more intense than usual. :-) Oh, and that last one: "haunted basement/the cat scrambles right back up/the wooden stairs," amused me even while dreaming it. I've been catching myself in lots of old emotional responses and absolutely refusing to indulge them. I was with that cat, all the way. Enough of haunted basements we don't even have to go in to. LOL!


February 1 through February 10, 2008

my new friend inquires
into the job I’m vacating
a hard position

* * * *


she lets me stay
the night in her crowded house
power outage

on-going blackout
I need a change of clothes
and a new flop

walking painfully
too much like 9/11
which way is home

* * * *


the noise outside
backing down my fire escape
a green stretch limo

I’ve not won a prize
only firemen exit the car
home invasion

defending my space
they invaded but somehow
I’m in the wrong

* * * *

the teacher I choose
her night paintings scintillate
viewed from a distance

* * * *

steady upstream wading
football after football
bobbles by me

[On first typing this one I realized this is pretty much what happened the morning of my flight to CA. As I waited for the late departure fearful I'd miss my San Franciso flight connection due to the delay, fans of that big football game (that the Giants won) filed out of the gate coming back to New York from Chicago. Although I had the dream before I flew to CA, I certainly knew of the game and all the travellers that would be in the airport. I just think its fun to see how one's dreaming mind plays with such events.:-)]

* * * *

elevator corner making love oh-so-gently

* * * *

she dreams of white birds
and trying to keep them in –
his compassionate eyes

[based on a friend’s dream]

* * * *

I don’t want to draw
them all again from scratch
saved by a xerox

* * * *

sudden death symbols*
fill the borders of the quilt
his compassion

[*They were the astrology sign for the sun, and the Sun card in the Tarot can occasionally indicate a sudden death which was my association both in the dream and on waking.]

* * * *

the nun's sent to help
elsewhere than the plane crash
she adjusts

[Note made February 20: I've survived my flight/move to California from New York city, and am now happily (and very exhaustedly) settling in. Lots of work and all my cartons have not even arrived yet. I've been writing dreamku, as you can see from the above. Fortunately, my computer system and scanner/printer survived the trip, too, and are up and running. But I don't have an ISP just yet, so am working at a public access computer in the retirement community where I live. Can't wait to get mine online, but am very grateful for this one just a short walk through the palm and flower-filled grounds to the library here.]

February 11, 2008

my large purple
red-trimmed robe unfolds
we think it’s cool

February 12, 2008

we discuss the tract
about Pterry’s* new book
cats need no religion

[*Terry Pratchett, author of the fabulous fantasy/parody Discworld book series]

February 13, 2008


she supports him
in every breath he takes
Superman’s new fight

subsumed love
cornered nose-to-nose they split
the stone wall

battle won
Superman’s nose starts bleeding
she fears he’ll die

the saga now called
“Leaders from Atlantis”
foreign heroes land

February 14, 2008


we find time and space
to begin to make love
children’s voices

kids crowd the kitchen
packing cartons for our move
my frustration

back to work
my would-be lover’s laughter
and gentle ways

February 15, 2008

I’m late, I’m late!
my only clean skirt wrinkled
and with a large hole

February 16, 2008

two women and I
walk away from poor choices
they turn back

February 17, 2008


I think she’s alive
I re-read the email
am I mistaken

something monkey-like
escapes from her email
I chase after it

he refuses to stop
the fleeing skunk-like monkey
I’m very p.o.’d

nothing moves him though
I twist his arm into knots
evil super-hero

February 18, 2008


she leaves her baby
rather carelessly
night on the town

handsome owner
flirtation gets her into
the exclusive club

I sort music CDs
to pack for my move
old rock abounds

one music reviewer
with many faces
I finally disagree

she picks up her son
at the day care center
dark puddles and streams

she stands wet and drunk
at the bottom of my stairs
I hope she climbs

February 19, 2008


I surprise myself
and take him as my lover
power and wealth

my only I.D. her fake one
who am I

I join other accused in
making new music

even my lover
can't prove who I am
wealth and power

February 20, 2008

as we trudge she says
“What are we coming to ....”
rooted oil lines snake

February 21, 2008

my deep puzzlement
she makes the long trip years late
to confront me

February 22, 2008


the dice land
a good gamble but now
there's work to be done

I can't possibly
wordprocess this document fast
massive challenge

February 23, 2008

lyrics and reality
the girl he abuses
doesn’t have a name

February 24, 2008

his eye injury
I carry him to the couch
surprised he’s so light

February 25, 2008

no more!
the raging gorilla stops
at my high pitched yell

February 26, 2008


I refuse to scam
and others extort me
tree-lined escape route

he leads me into
a shocking pink grove
embrace this difference

February 27, 2008

shoes of all sizes
and styles litter the store floor
sixteen in the family

February 28, 2008

“Strangers are coming!”
Whoopi teases me about
my hermit tendencies

February 29, 2008

haunted basement
the cat scrambles right back up
the wooden stairs

* * * *

‘til next time, keep dreaming,


[aka: 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”)****My other blogs ROSWILA’S TAROT GALLERY & JOURNAL and ROSWILA’S TAIGA TAROT.

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Monday, February 25, 2008

THE EMBEDDED COUCH, poem by Patricia Kelly


Drawn to its vaguely Japanese garden pattern
I bought the bulky couch 23 years ago, second hand

And hand-over-hand it came up the outside
of my building and through the third floor terrace
doorway, the stairwell and its turns too narrow

The couch gracefully served all who used it,
developing a reputation as a nap-inducer,
slightly sway-backed like a gentle old nag

Ultimately it swayed too deep and we used it
less and less, leaving it to the pasture
of its navy and beige design

But all good things come to an end
and with each end a beginning comes

My retirement cross-country approached.
The couch, too, would have to vacate this home,
but not in reverse of the way it came in:
glass terrace doors removed, the couch
bound up and lowered down three stories,
a swaddled remnant of its former grace

No, I could not afford to pay others
to haul my dream nag this way, nor did I wish
to risk the glass terrace doors again,
those windows through which I’d watched storms
and fireworks, sunsets and new buildings rise

And so the old couch loomed intractable
What to do, what to do

Silly fantasies arose of taking a saw to it,
putting the couch out of my misery
with a few bold cuts, then carting
the fluff-dribbling remains down the stairs:
“Appearing soon at theaters near you,
The Embedded Couch”

The more I fantasized, the more it seemed
quite possible ... cut to the chase ....

In barter for an air conditioner of mine
I’d yet to sell, our handyman quickly sawed
the old couch into three bite-sized pieces
that the staircase all too readily swallowed

My tremendous relief rife
with an unexpected sadness...
so many years over
in a dust-filled flash,
in a few direct cuts

(written February 2008)

* * * * * * * *

I've mentioned before on this blog the challenge I faced with this couch. I knew back then, before I moved from New York city to California, that it might make a poem. But I also knew I shouldn't -- maybe couldn't -- write it until I was moved here to Goleta, CA.

The story is clearly a metaphor for the total experience of preparing to leave New York city. But, oddly enough, I did not realize this until those images in the last two stanzas surfaced. This, to me, is one of the values in writing poetry (or in any creative effort). The new symbols, or familiar ones seen in a new way, can offer something valuable, needed, healing.

* * * *

‘til next time, keep dreaming,


[aka: 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”)****My other blogs ROSWILA’S TAROT GALLERY & JOURNAL and ROSWILA’S TAIGA TAROT.