IN THE HEART OF THE WOODS (photo) & BABA YAGA WOULD BE PROUD OF ME (free verse dream poem) by Roswila

BABA YAGA WOULD BE PROUD OF ME

dream of 1-24-20:

ex-CUSE! me? you want to get me into the sack,
any way you can, you say (and even if you didn’t
say, a certain body part of yours in such near
proximity to mine makes that goal obvious);
yeah, it’s flattering and waaay tempting, you’re
quite a bit younger than I am and very attractive,
but the question remains: why? I’m more akin to
Baba Yaga (in looks, not power, she’s no need of
nor interest in any man, from what I gather) than
someone I could see you chasing after


dream of 1-25-20:

… and who are you, and why, just why does a
handsome younger man like you not only like but
want to “make the beast with two backs” with me?
oh, don’t get this old witch wrong, she finds you
sexy enough but I doubt even Baba Yaga has the
power to seduce the affection of one as unfaithful
as you; it’s all a bit much to take in so if you don’t
mind (and even if you do, since my decision’s for
your best as well, though why I should care, I don’t
know) I’ll just totter off on my own unmagical long
legs; the woods of imagination are my own true love
anyway, and I should never wander too far from them,
no matter the sweet temptation that may sing in some
baritone voice, rumbling through and warming my
entire arthritic body


dream of 1-27-20:

I announce to my much younger, female co-worker
that I will never have another roommate again,
much less share a bedroom with one, my resolve
feeling solid and comforting; as the last word is out
of my mouth I see a memory/image hanging in the air
between us like a projected Power Point display,
of having shared my bedroom with a recent series
of four women, the image waving as if trying
to answer a question; but I’ve already got
the answer I need, I think, and don’t care to squeeze
anything else out of this painful, compacted memory:
I’ll never share sleeping arrangements with any
other woman again -- I will always sleep alone


[free verse poem on three dreams of consecutive nights: 1-24, 1-25, and 1-27-20. I was puzzled by the first two dreams, although I did draft unsatisfying poems on them. Then this morning, as I finished an unsatisfying draft of the third, I realized what the series has been addressing. How deep my hurt by the four major male relationships in my life has gone. And my very recent consequent determination not to put myself in a position to repeat being -- there’s no other way to put it -- cheated on. I won’t claim ignorance of those situations. I wasn’t born yesterday -- not even 40 years ago the first time I went through it. But I will claim a new absolute refusal to talk myself into accepting another woman (and in two out of the four cases, more than one other woman) in the man’s life. Old witch I am -- and was even 40 years ago -- but I need not submit to, nay, collude in such treatment. BTW, Baba Yaga folk lore. Also, I should note here the question I incubated these dreams with: Please help me my find my way back to my heart. Photomorph “In the Heart of the Woods” (8-12-14 008v3[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 or contrasting 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.

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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.