Roswila's Dream & Poetry Realm

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

Sunday, June 07, 2015

SKY WRITING (photo) & WILTED (short-short dream story) by Roswila


I idly sketch charcoal grey blossoms on the silvery tablet screen. They begin to swirl, to waltz into a pearlescent blur. The tablet screen clears. What was the subject the teacher just gave us to write about? Ah, yes, flowers. Well, if not an original idea, certainly a broad enough topic when one lets associations trail along.

The teacher wanders the room, standing briefly like a trellis behind each student in turn. The woman to my right reads what's she's written so far in a sunny voice, her words like a daisy chain. I hope I won't have to read mine. It will break my stream of unconsciousness. A fizz of relief flushes my cheeks as the teacher passes me by for the man to my left. He intones from his pad in large bricks of words, laying the foundation for a gothic garden. I have the sudden urge to write something red. I switch to my fuchsia pen and words start spreading across my tablet. Fuchsia's not really the color for blood but I'll see how it goes:

"Oh the heat of my heart's blood when I see his handsome face. In this sterile office hallway the buzz he unselfconsciously gives off is electric. As if he were an entire field of solar panels. I've never been the type someone such as he would choose. But here he is, extending his hand to me, asking for a dance. Even before I enter his arms I'm dizzy from looking in his periwinkle blue eyes. We spin lightly, waltzing on the grey carpet to his singing. I allow myself to join in ... 'When Irish eyes are smiling sure 'tis like a morn in spring...' Our voices bob in the imagined sunlight. An imperious call interrupts our blossoming connection. It's his boss demanding his presence elsewhere. His arms fade away from around me, and he turns silently to stride down the long hall. I crumple to the carpet like a wilted petal fallen from a hastily gathered handful of wild flowers."

[short-short story on a dream of 6-5-15. Many levels at once were going on as I dreamed this. I suppose not all at once but on recall it was difficult to know how they all managed to be part of the same dream. Of course, maybe they weren't and recall just organized them that way. Anyway, the levels: (1) as I dreamed I experienced the action of the "I" figure; (2) I saw quite a bit of the writing though it was more like fonts on a tablet screen and some was in the various colors I indicate above; (3) I saw that daisy chain and those bricks (a walkway or retaining wall maybe?) in a midnight field/garden; and (4) I saw that last section starting "Oh the heat..." even as I was beginning to find and see the words to write about it on that dream tablet. BTW, these words above are not the ones from the tablet. As almost always, I only retained the gist of the words I saw. Photo "Sky Writing" (4998 ev2) 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, as the above is), 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 connections & other blogs: Charter Member of the United Haiku and Tanka Society (UHTS); ROSWILA'S TAROT GALLERY & JOURNAL; ROSWILA'S TAIGA TAROT; and TRYING TO HOLD A BOX OF LIGHT.


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