Quarantined Dream

“Waking in the Night” – dreams.co.uk

 

So I woke up this morning about 4:30 with words and an idea in my head. I knew if I didn’t get up they would disappear. I wrote down a few verses and went back to bed, but not to sleep. I had a lot to get done today. I eventually got back up, put on some coffee, did a few chores, then started prepping the hallway for painting. I got it painted and it looks much better!

So, finally, I got back to add to/revise my poem that I’d started at 4:30.

 

Quarantined Dream

In this quarantined dream
I long for the other side of the pillow
cool against my cheek
but I can’t flip it over
not just yet

In this quarantined dream
I’ve been walking so long
I want to unlace my boots
and peel off my socks
but I walk on
without the spring in my step

In this quarantined dream
my lips are dry and cracked
I search for the balm
peppermint and soothing
that gives relief
but I search in vain

In this quarantined dream
I layer on the covers
but I can’t get warm
shivering with unanswered questions
I throw on another blanket
and wait

In this quarantined dream
full of speculations
I wonder about the Vitamin C
while grasping for sunshine
and fresh air
but they slip away

In this quarantined dream
I try to hide
from the numbers chasing me
the warnings and the symptoms aren’t far behind
but where is the truth?

In this quarantined dream
I think I hear a knock on the door
but I know, even if it’s real,
I can’t answer it
not just yet

 

Avetts in October #17: Loss of a Dream

 

In anticipation of The Avett Brothers concert on October 25th, I am writing a series of blog posts connecting some of their lyrics to words of some of my favorite authors.

 

“Until I can mourn the loss of a dream I cannot be comforted enough to have vision for a fresh one.”  from The Irrational Season (1977)  by Madeleine L’Engle

 

There have been so many times over the years that things just didn’t turn out like I thought they would. But I’m a better woman for having gone through it.

 

I remember crying over you,

and I don’t mean like a couple of tears and I’m blue.

I’m talking about collapsing and screaming at the moon,

but I’m a better man for having gone through it.

Yes, I’m a better man for having gone through.

 

Avetts in October #10: Sadness

wikipedia

In anticipation of The Avett Brothers concert on October 25th, I am writing a series of blog posts connecting some of their lyrics to words of some of my favorite authors.

 

It seemed so unfair: that time should render both sadness and happiness into a source of pain.  –  from A Fine Balance by Rohinton Mistry

 

He’d smile at them across that distance, and the smile was sad and hard, and it meant estrangement, even when he was with them. – from Home by Marilynne Robinson

 

I never know quite how to describe the music of the Avetts. True Sadness seems an odd album title, but actually it’s pretty perfect. It was the first TAB album we purchased. I didn’t know it had been nominated for Best Americana Album. It’s also referred to as folk and alternative country. It’s all that and more. It’s hope.

 

‘Cause I still wake up shaken by dreams

And I hate to say it but the way it seems

Is that no one is fine

Take the time to peel a few layers and you will find

True sadness

 

 

 

Dreamer or Pragmatist?

photo- -machohairstyles.com

 

Ishvar:  “Patience is needed for dreams to grow and bear fruit.”

Om: “Patience is good when you want to grow a beard.” 

From A Fine Balance by Rohinton Mistry

I think I’m more like Om. I DO dream, but I’m also pretty realistic about things. I’m not part of the ‘If you can dream it, you can do it’ school. There are way too many disappointed kids, big kids who haven’t grown up, who were told this only to find out it’s not always true. And now what? Do they think they were lied to? Do they think they are failures? I don’t know.  Thoughts?

Dream On

 

“Cancel subscriptions to Southern Living, Veranda and Southern Lady magazines”

– I Still Dream About You by Fannie Flagg

In Flagg’s book, the main character, Maggie Fortenberry, is making plans to kill herself, but she just can’t leave the world without putting everything in order first, including canceling her magazine subscriptions. I am familiar with all three of these magazines; in fact, Southern Living and Southern Lady are both published right here in Birmingham. In another fact, I worked for Southern Lady for two whole weeks. But, that’s a long story for another day.

The bad thing for me about magazines like these is the desires they stir up. Everything is lovely and perfect… and usually expensive. Granted, there is a lot of good information between the pages, such as gardening tips and recipes. But, then again, I don’t have a green thumb and don’t cook like I used to. Maggie Fortenberry didn’t really garden or cook, either. So, why do we get these magazines?

Sometimes it’s fun to just dream. We think about houses we’d like to live in one day, places we’d like to visit, clothes that are lovely. Others of us get inspired: I could make a table like that; I could paint my room that color; I could visit that town on a budget. There is a lot of potential good if we peruse the pages with a little common sense. Or, we can just cancel those subscriptions altogether.