Keep moving, singing, dancing
Keep looking, hoping, believing
Keep praying and contemplating
As the eye of your soul sees, so beautiful is the world
And all your precious dreams will be like a flag unfurled
Category: Dreams
Cathedral of the Mind
In the Cathedral of the mind where you bind every thought,
Yet running wild in the half light, child free and unbeguiled,
No greater chance, no better time than to prance and dance
In the Cathedral of the Mind
Here in low luminescence of the night you might take flight
To regions unknown, blown far afield what to be shown
In the Cathedral of the Mind
Keep Dreaming the Dream
Dream the dream of healing and reconciliation, liberation, and restoration
Of speaking truth in love, healing with compassion, kneeling in humility,
Of walking arm in arm, talking heart to heart, of playing the better part,
Of building a new society, living in propriety, of working quietly in piety,
Of honesty, constancy, comradery, equality, and all fairness in polity,
Of playing instead of fighting, singing and dancing instead of backbiting,
Dream the dream into reality with finality this Day and forevermore!
Happy Martin Luther King Day
Dancing Thru Dreamland
Strange things dare to appear in dreamland with sands of time flowing above,
Somehow, somewhere to dare sleep slip away lest she have something to say,
After all, night is day in the fertile fields of dreamland as spacious as my soul,
Yet there is an ubiquitous emptiness in the fullness of the mystic meanderings,
Wanderings wondering where we are going in, around and through absurdity
As odd broken thoughts flit about here and there in the eclectic eccentricity
That only a sleeping psyche can conjure without conjecture in senseless beauty
In dubious duty to slumber so sanguine, never languid, causing anguish of mind
In binding it to such bizarre bazaars of mixed recollections and new tales told
Without rhyme or reason in the lullaby season in treason against rationality,
But this is dreamland, after all, where the banality of my reality is left behind
The Land of Lokilict
I Lost my Love in the Land of Lokilict
Where the Pines are Purple and Plush
And Fields Fertile with Fresh Foliage
Where the Rivers Run Red with Roses
And People are Pleasant and Peaceful
Where the Hills Hide Hidden Heliodor
And the Leas Look Like Lemony Lakes
Where the Folks Forage Fruit For Fun
And the Sun in the Sky Shines Serenely
Where the Rains Rain down Reverently
And Sparrows Sing Songs So Splendidly
Where Breezes Blow Back Benevolently
And the Moon Mystifies so Marvelously
Ah! But . . .
I Lost my Love in this Land of Lokilict
Boyhood Hero, or The Rescuer
For you to make my rescue by silver sharp interruption
Of bland childhood in hues of lovingly brave exaltation
By an insurrection of the heart without incrimination
And my soul dreamed of only your beauty and my duty
To an elegant hero rescuing me from prosaic childhood
For the good of imagination being perfectly understood
With me resting in your strong arms safe from all harm
I Can See You in My Dreams: A Symetrelle
I can see you in my dreams
You fly so high up into my sky
While you stultify me as I cry
And I cannot reach you though I desire
With love burning brightly in blue-flaming fire
But never quite knowing what you require
As I lay me down for my soul to expire
Hold me now as I cry one last cry
Reaching for you so high in the sky
I can see you in my dream
Note: The Symetrelle is a form created by Julie Moeller Writing on Allpoetry.com as Bluejewel. She describes it thus: It begins and ends with a single subject line that is 7 syllables. It has ‘a hat and boots’, mono-rhymed couplets that lead you into and out of the subject with a 9 syllable count. At the heart of it is a mono-rhymed 4 line quatrain with an 11 syllable count.
Slipstream of Dreams: A Shadorma
Human dreams
Floating so freely
In slipstream
Of visions
To shape new reality
From heavenly cream
From This Swirling World of Chaos
From this swirling world of chaos in my mind,
I must fly away to some place of peace,
With imagination unfurled, my chains unbind,
Where heroes make my wars to cease.
And here Beauty will kiss once again my tears,
As outflows needed comfort and love,
To take away all of my frustrations and fears,
To dance in the sunlight shining above.
For only a little while in this place can I stay,
As reality eagerly waits in the wings,
And yet this world of mine will not go away,
Nor will soon flee the song I will sing.
Crazy Life: Dreams and Dreams Again
Reams of dreams rolling through my mind
That bind me fast to my unpleasant past
Without recourse to complete forgiveness
In the business of living,
Giving no berceuse of peace for me to be
An healthy man for this old world to see
Instead of one daunted by haunted dreams
~ Jonathan David Noble
About half-way through my stay in the Samson (Alabama) Group Home, which is to say about seven to eight months, I began having very strange dreams ~ perhaps nightmares, truth be told ~ with one particular, recurring element: Alcohol, specifically trying to get alcoholic beverages, mostly in the form of ale. Again and again, I would hurry and scurry about, whether in some grocery or convenience store, attempting to purchase some ice-cold beer with the ever-present thought that I’d have to hide this from nearly everyone.
Well, for almost my entire adult life I’d used alcohol to self-medicate, along with benzos and pain-killers. By the time I’d been properly diagnosed and medicated, I’d already become an addict. In the final analysis, alcohol and drugs had ruined my life to an enormous extent. Certainly, it discolored and warped family relationships and friendships. Alcohol, primarily, had simply become part and parcel of who and what I was … tragically.
However, by this time in the group home, I’d been clean and sober for a couple of years, so I really didn’t understand the repeating theme of trying to drink in almost all of my dreams. (And, by the way, this was the first time in my life that I could actually remember most of my dreams. Before this, I could count on two hands the number of dreams I could recall.) Interestingly enough, my dream efforts to drink were always frustrated somehow, which was good, I suppose.
To attempt interpretation of these dreams may prove to be folly. After all, “as one who catches at a shadow and pursues the wind, so is anyone who believes in dreams.”¹ Still being curious, though, especially since this them is ongoing, I investigated possible meanings online. One site suggested that I might be attempting to acquiesce “to some concept or circumstance,” or that I might be trying to cover up guilt and remorse.²
“Alternatively, the dream may be reflective of waking issues and problems of alcoholism. Recovering alcoholics often have dreams of drinking which results in feelings of guilt. Such dreams help to reinforce their sobriety,”³ which seems more likely to me. But why after so long being sober? Well, I suppose two years is not really that long. Besides, I also started infrequently dreaming, or experiencing flashbacks, of terrible mistakes I’d made … sins I’d committed.
I can truly say I was surprised by the suggestion that dreaming of past memories, especially mistakes and sins, indicates that I am ready “to rid (my)self of (my) old ways and undergo a transformation,” and/or that I am “ready for a new outlook in life.” If this is true, then at least these dreams are encouraging. Of course, if a memory dream included drinking, then if this interpretation is right, it would mean that I am finally ready to move on beyond past addictions. Wonderful! I believe this is true.
Now if I could only progress in a couple of other areas of my life, I might be the happiest man in the world. Still, I am very thankful that God has allowed and certainly aided me in making as much progress as I already have! And I pray you find yourself making strides forward, too! As always, peace and blessings to you!…
¹ The Wisdom of ben Sirach 34.2 (NRSVCE)
² Possible interpretation(s) offered by www.dreamforth.com as accessed on 10/06/2018
³ Alternative interpretation provided by www.dreammoods.com as accessed on 10/06/2018
4 Ibid accessed on 10/06/2018
For previous installments in the ‘Crazy Life’ series, see…
Crazy Life: Sally Dumped and Deserted
Crazy Life: Ecclesia et Mentis Morbum
Crazy Life: Just Can’t Say ‘No’
Crazy Life: Hanging in the Balance
Crazy Life: Meeting the Mystery of God
Crazy Life: Humiliating the Already-Humbled
Crazy Life: A Little Less Crazy? But Still Guilty
