Thursday, July 18, 2013

Found Poem ~ "In My Dream"

I was looking around the house today for a blank journal to use in an art class I'm taking next week, and I discovered what looks like a poem. Since I don't consider myself a poet, I can only assume it wasn't first intended as a poem, and just turned out that way -- like a kitchen concoction that turns out way different than you expected, but is still good.

My only disappointment in the poem is ... I don't remember who I was writing about. Also, it's a little "flowery."

Or not.

In My Dream

In my dream, you were my soul coach,
Writing down my words faster than I could.
Recording words and ideas
Plummeting from the sky,
Or my lips.

Sometimes they'd float by in bubbles,
Iridescent with purple glint,
And you'd reach out with calm,
Like swamp water slippery with waiting crocodiles,
And pluck them from in front of you.

In my dream, you'd hold up the thought
And clear your throat,
Examining it for flaws.
You'd exclaim/proclaim it sound
And write it down
And then give it a kiss.

In my dream, you heard a hoard of elephants,
Stampeding through your mind,
Interrupting your thoughts and dreams,
And you were angry.

But then you help up your own thought,
And cleared your throat,
Examined it for flaws.
You exclaimed/proclaimed it sound
And wrote it down.
And then gave it a kiss --
No longer labeled as anger.

In my dream, you wear brown cowboy boots
And leap and stomp and laugh and plead
With eyes of brown and green and blue --
Mirrors of angst and joy,
Pleasure and guilt and desire.

In my dream you hide from, what,
I don't know.
Sometimes it is yourself and
Sometimes it is me, but
Always it reminds me of fear.
Distrust in a child's countenance,
When he is trying so very hard to 
Understand this grown-up world,
And meets with disbelief at the
Strangeness of it.

In my dream, you are
3 and 20 and 48.
And 14.
All ages of knowledge
And import.

In my dream, you are 
Or with me
But always you smile
And always you

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