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What is it about nice people that attract total idiots?Nice people are martyrs. Idiots are evangelists.

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Sunday, May 20, 2012

A dream's rhyme

It's happened to you before- a song, a poem, that captures a feeling so strong in a dream.  You try to write it down in the dream, but all you have is scraps of paper or pens that die off, and the harder you try to capture it, the sooner you wake up and lose it all.  Then there's the once in a while you remember it clear enough to write down.

The dream begins with wasting the last hours of class time.  Then you go to the roof, and watch new children enter in.  You want to stay, but it's their time now, and you must move on.  You have to make room for them; but who makes room for you?

I watch the day begin,
kids go in;
From the roof, I can taste the sky,
and I could fly
I want to go inside to live and die
within the walls I've known so long
but the walls won't know me now,
 I don't belong.


Long ago, I once belonged
in the dawn
I remember spelling class
and morning Mass
I was a child like these, did what I pleased,
a child again would please me now
The kids cannot see me now,
framed in clouds.

I can't go back, I'm framed in black
stepped too many cracks, broke my mother's back
I dreamed I flew for seconds,
crashing to the ground....


Inside it's plain to see,
no room for me;
I have to yield for the next ones' turn,
let them learn
I wasted all my time on plans of mine
to stay forever on inside
Always meant to move outside,
no place to hide...

I stand aloft in the morning air,
don't seem fair
how it all could end so fast,
all gone past;
You gave me youth, Your greatest gift
that I was never meant to keep;
and I sold it off so cheap,
gave it free...

I can't go back, I'm framed in black
stepped too many cracks, broke my mother's back
lift off without a sound,
crashing to the ground
This is my home (I can't go home),
These are my friends (I'm all alone),
I want to go, but there's nowhere
               go, but there's nowhere
               go, but there's nowhere
                     for me to go...


Where I am, there's overtime,
that's just fine
You stare at me, and I at you,
nothing to do;
The teacher's gone away we had to pay
for staying here so long
scribbled lines on torn-off sheets,
and then we're free...


The school bell rings once more
lock the doors;
Afternoon like a shaded sheet
covers me...
The buses go, the playground empties
and the ghosts of long ago
of all the flights I've never flown;
I have to go.

I can't go back, I'm framed in black
stepped too many cracks, broke my mother's back
Gravity like a silken shroud
crashing to the ground

This was my home, I have no home
Where are my friends, I'm all alone
I want to go, but there's nowhere
               go, but there's nowhere
               go, but there's nowhere
                     to go....



I walk away from the edge,
time to wake...

6 comments:

  1. WOW!!! This poem needs a few reads to get it all in. Hope you have more dream poems in the future.

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  2. As Alisa said, a lot to take in here. You are an interesting person with your own unique perspective.

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  3. Great poem. My dreams are rarely in prose... more deep rooted in some childhood jr. high trauma, and most likely the result of something I should not have eaten so close to bed time.

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  4. Thank you all. The dream was a typical mad mix of work, high school, and grade school, with a heavy dose of "you can't go back." The easy part was that the first four lines were written in the dream. The nice part was the concept made sense when I woke up. The hard part was finding my glasses and pen at 5 AM...

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  5. CWM:
    Time's getting close for you to get some of this "officially" published...
    Excellent prose.

    Now, let me know what you ATE before that dream came to you...
    Because you have found a wonderful muse.

    Stay safe (and poetic) up there.

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