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A Sleeping Witness

Dreams are the harbingers of prophecy. They are the conscious decisions made in a world of subconscious space. Within each wafting glide of wind and dust, sand and religion collide in trust—deciphering visions of abstract states, encoding tomorrow’s future with the promise from a forlorn and forgotten state.  Application of belief transforms the deepest realm—where the flickering sands of altered terrain become placemats for each inspiration we awake unto.

 

While the many doors we traverse abed, may never unhinge their paths, momentum, nonetheless continues forth, where through such forward action, thrust upon this life’s fate, our nerves becalmed by the understanding and the knowledge, that no matter the hardships our physical beings must bear, our minds shall persevere—each strain of burden and every stress of fractured straits—the tumults ever hovering near, creating an alleviation of sensation and a today that serves as bridge, between a bountiful future and each impossibility our yesterdays had just explored.

What Is Perceived As Failure May Simply Be The Seeds Of Prosperity Taking Root

Upon arrival we are blessed in tokens. Time commences, as frequently as a pausing gale. Engaging and transformative, dreams upend the tumultuous dishonors bestowed, like never-ending blankets placing their wretched warmth, upon, over and unto the flesh of the lost

 

Kindred spirits direct their energies out and into an atmosphere teeming with trials and tribulations. It is difficult. It is meant to be.  Keeping true to one’s beliefs, is the type of angst that is well alive, yet unknown by those wrapped in silk.

 

The offer of promise undoubtedly will appear like hope trapped beneath a flooding ballast, when some effigy wisps about, freeing encouragement to be understood by the ears of the forgotten, providing a message that stirs and swirls in gentle yet rapturous patterns of enigmatic wandering.

 

This epoch internal, if given over to, certainly shall reveal, that one pure moment of inspiration. And Within, here, truth most certainly breeds epiphany.

 

 

All things dead are once again alive, but sated we become, by interventions misunderstood.  With a newfound arc of possibility comes a stinging from life’s lash of apprehension.

 

And encased within each scar lives a gathering of the spectacular. A future recognition administered with sensations crafted by the sincerity of the divine.

 

Sleeping Cellular

Sleeper Cell—
Unknown pollination of germ divine—
Spreads, swallowing up the hearsay with
Radically ambulating correspondences

Vacate the grounds
Eliminate that which stands between you and the freedom urged
Coalesce the demons
Before the hardboiled rationalizations rise
Faltering—undoing
All that’s been
Learned—and spoken—
Which is not always the worst of outcomes—
In fact, you may unwittingly become, the proud benefactor of silver spoon fed karmic divination.

Hold. Pause. Stare into the fathomless sea…Open expansive lines…Reflect…and then repeat…regurgitate internally, all the secret solvencies garnished on your behalf—slowly…percolating…slowly…transitioning…between this world and the next…always growing in maturity…yet never forgetting how your time has lapsed…
In shackles…bound to be…in chains…tied to me…
In bloodshed…we unite…why, well that’s the question we are told never to ponder…it’s also the very reason we never choose to wonder why…for contemplating innocence…may catapult the advantage, unto the insurgent’s plight…. crushing all those who oppose such tyranny…for they, never even stop to consider the reasons for, the reasons why, they just blindly follow their commander…. harboring each his master’s plans…for in their eyes…they truly are delivering upon the will beckoned down…the solutions to all the ills that pain existence…to resolve the buttresses that fly free….to resurrect utopias never known before…it is all this, these and more…when belief is all that is understood…faith, the ultimate bearer instrument…which works well, while either providing defense toward or inflicting persuasion to those in the need to know….All because….someone used God…and his dreams…to their end…manipulating all the peons…his rulings will one day so easily be considered just and once again, provide the providence we’ve searched for since the start of the day before the day before the day we gave ourselves entirely over to he who also is but a man, with only a promise and a prayer, that to which he insinuates, to be true and blessed…destined and heavenly sent….(sigh)

Dream Doors

The past few days I’ve been playing around with the audio recorder. I concocted this dream scenario bit, where I’m sent into all these different dreams and such. I did all the recording first and then wrote them down, occasionally changing a word here or there in the transcript so to speak. Anyhow, some of these are quite silly, but I had a bunch of fun doing them, so I thought I’d share the entirety with you all here.

Ok…
So, you see…
Everything was dark, pitch black in fact…
Then, without warning, a spotlight erupted,
Completely consuming me…

Every step I took, no matter if done fast or slow, it followed wherever I would go…

The light then swayed, alternating from where I stood, across the tiling to a distance away, illuminating a series of doors, three to the right and three to the left, with a larger central door alone between….

The beacon changed, from door to door, and then to me again, a regular rotation of changing sights, until of course I picked a door to choose there that night…

DOOR NUMBER TWO, was chosen first…The live studio audience seemed dismayed, I hadn’t chosen the large middle door for my first approach, but quickly silenced as the path connected me to the door as it slowly opened, emitting a light it’s own, a light I would need to walk into…

I was in a house I did not know, but yet, it truly felt like it was my own…the carpet white, it’s thickness swallowed my toes, sinking deep as the eyes caught everything around…from a spiral staircase leading up to the massive windows peering out unto a balcony behind, where it’s breathtaking view of the water below, could be seen, oh how it could be seen…

There were pictures on the wall, framed records with my name, many of me and famous artists I apparently had somehow grown quite close to, there was me and Lars, chilling at some pier, Lemmy grilling up some steaks, apparently at this very house…Out on the deck I saw that grill atop it’s perfectly stained wooden floor…one too alluring to not go and enjoy…

The salt nipped subtly at me there, invigorating the sensations of touch to skin and scent to nose, watching out unto the mesmerizing sights of the surf at dawn…

I barely noticed a twisting staircase that led to a deck below, and it was as if I was impelled to follow it, to see what was there to find…a beautiful pool, with sparkling water that tempted one to swim…
Undressing slightly into a suit that just then appeared….then walking over to the edge of the end most deep, getting ready, getting ready to first dip my feet, the way I’d always been accustomed to know, to first test the temperature on my toes, before headfirst in the swim my body would soon follow….

But something caught my eyes, a shadow from deep down within, a startling vision I was not prepared to dream….and the oddest thing was not that it was there, but that it appeared to be rising up to me, at a steadying pace it’s dimensions were expanding, rising until I could see in full view, a great white, there, here in what I could only explain away as my own pool….

I stepped back and then gasped, as it’s fin came first, and then followed by it’s open mouth, piercing the air, causing a tide to escape, covering my feet from toes to ankle then ebbing back until it subsided back into…where that shark was still swimming, still swimming in my view…

That was when a voice came called, from the house next to mine, a house I hadn’t previously spied…it was a man’s voice that addressed me, but to where he stood or as to what he looked, these descriptions I could not see, I could not tell, and so I just listened as he spoke so well, “ Don’t be alarmed my man, I see you haven’t been hear for too long, it’s okay, nothing weird about it…”

To which, all I could utter was, “nothing strange about a shark swimming around my pool, seems kind of odd, seems stranger knowing I smell chlorination pretty strong”

To this, he explained,” Yeah, well I got em too, no not sharks, but a thousand piranha or so, kinda neat to see, as long as you don’t get drunk and try to go for a dip, if you want to do that, head to the shore, jump on in, you won’t find any fish under those waves”

“Doesn’t make any sense to me, none of this does actually,” I replied to his attempt at an explanation, and then, before he could reply, I was back to the stage with the doors and the spotlight showing six doors left to explore, apparently not swimming with the shark, was enough to continue this game I had unwittingly thus embarked…

DOOR FIVE came next…

And here I would find myself, at a club, sipping down some fruity fare, an umbrella in some hurricane glass whose contents were a mixture of orange and pink, with some red splashes mixed into…

The music was pumping hard and fast, I was just leaning back against the bar, when I heard my name called out loud and clear, a precursor to the surreal vision I would then witness here…

In bikinis both, Rachel McAdams and Olivia Wilde, were fighting fierce, attacking each other for my love, an impossibility so deranged, yet I couldn’t avert my eyes from this seemingly brilliant choreography…

Each would take the upper hand at points, clawing and scratching, kicking and pulling at the other’s hair…a crowd then surrounded and bloodthirsty they grew, chanting and cheering, placing bets upon who would be victorious, who would get little old me in the end, which, unfortunately for them, the crowd quickly caught a glimpse, a glimpse of Anne Hathaway stealing me away…to which I tried to look back to the bout, yet soon, all that could be heard was the crowd, and the violence in their cheers and shouts….

Anne looked me deep into my eyes, closed on in, as one could probably easily surmised to follow course, but only to find me awake once more, to the jeers of a crowd watching me flailing atop the tiling of that spot-lit floor, now, offering but 5 more doors.

Frustrated, with emotions tossed and curled, I figured, might as well go for the centered door, perhaps then this dream will end and I would awake feeling ever refreshed and more…

However, when I went to open it by the knob, it would not budge, it would not move, that is where I noticed the newly placed padlock locking it secure…with a note gentling dangling, hanging off the chains it keeps…a key is hidden in one of the remaining rooms, find it and all my treasures will be yours to use…

So, with two and five already explored, they somehow disappeared from here, leaving the first and third to the right and the fourth and sixth to the left… Guess I’ll go with number one, and see what’s inside there…

I opened the door and took a step…
Only to find myself in a library, where of course
Books were packing all its shelves. A tiny table with a
Plushy chair, by a fireplace, created quite the mood, and a book
Was right there upon that table, some hot cocoa appeared as well…

So I thought, why not, and took a sip, but then the book grew three times my size, opened up and quickly swallowed me, where I felt each turn of the page, and heard the ink speaking to me loud and slow, to find the spine and let myself go, before the chapters owned my soul…

I thought this would be quite swell, being a part of a novel there’d certainly be a part that I could play, but my mood sullied swiftly once I caught the name of the book I was herein, the Complete tales of Poe, and I most definitely then, did fear for what was left of me there…

Wandering upon a cobbled path, I noticed the townsfolk and each there ogling glance, I could hear whispers about some killer climbing up and into rooms, slicing the necks of those in view…luckily I’m well read, so I knew where this was going and left so quick, to whatever tale it would lead…

The next had Spaniards speaking might harsh and cared not for an inquisition in any dose, in any amount…down some stairs so I went, only to appear into something that was not a simple letter to an editor or some niceties as found in poetry…

Stealthily I sneaked about the fringes as quick as I could but I saw the masque and it saw me quick…and all that I could dare suggest, was, oh well, cruel world, I lived this life, I did it to my best…and then it happened thankfully this time, where I found a door and opened it, only to rewind to the door filled room, now, there were but four left to use…

To rap up the right I went with Three and found myself a mountain filled with snow. I was a bit cold but I somehow felt alright, until I saw that plane and those people sitting there all shivering, looking at me like I was not a man at all, instead a feast for five, that could last them several days….So run I did but the shoes I had were not made for icy slopes, and down I went, slipping and sliding all the way until I landed on some darned tree, completely knocking me out, knocking me down, and when I came to, I was tied to a spit, and they never even kept their salivation down to a subtle clue…

Around and round did I twist, feeling the mix of cold and hot, depending on where the skewer would then stop…yet, of course, as I should have felt would be soon, yet feared this time I would be doomed, yes, I was not dinner, not even lunch, but back in the room with two more doors to climb…

Door four came next, so In I went…
Finding myself upon some park bench…
Must have been the deep south, because the
Words in that way just flew about…harmless place
I prayed for it, felt I was due…

So I got up and walked about, not paying attention to what people wore or the types of stores, instead, into a diner I walked, for I have to admit, I was quite famished…And there the jukebox was playing loud, songs that had not been popular for years…and there he stood, with a flock of girls, no, not Henry Winkler, but the Fonz…Ralph Malph and potsie were sitting there with joanie, long before she hitched her train to that guy that would one day be in charge…

They all saw me, but no one seemed to care…so I said what the heck, I’ve seen worse, this was fun, could be, perhaps go talk to the Fonz and get a tip or two…Nobody bothered me, no one at all…I ordered a chocolate malt and took in it all….Then in came Richie, and clapping then appeared…He stepped up beside me and whispered something in the ear of some girl…She left and said she’d be right back…he said hi to me, which was probably where I made my mistake…I congratulated on all the things he did, all those films, and how hot his daughter was, playing the evil vampire in Edward and Bellas tale…To which, of course, he called the Fonz over to me, I said “eh” and he didn’t care for it at all…next thing I new I was dragged out into the street, only to get kicked out of the diner and back into that room with the doors.

Slowly I entered and found myself in a game show, thanking the Lord it wasn’t one of those Japanese ones, for they could get hurt you know…but this one trip was awfully weird, as I’d get up to the wheel and I spun it hard, landing on the double zeros only to find myself staring across at Clark Griswald and his family…Pig in a Poke, Pig in A Poke…then just as fast I was on The Feud, not with Drew, or the guy that could’ve played Barney Rubble if he didn’t pass, but with Richard Dawson, and I watched him as he kissed some granny upon the cheek, causing quite the blush to rise in she…and when he came to me, he asked me for my choice, to which I said, Hee Haw..Don’t know why, yet there it was, number one, my so called family was cheering me on, but then…I found it not to last, why would it last, and there I was, staring face to face with a whammy coming up on my ass…This time, I was in the game, not a contestant but misplaced and in shame…and soon, that driller whammy found me, and did his best to oust me gone…only to warp away again…this time I was alone on stage, with a couple of kids in a middle school gym…they were all staring at me, and I didn’t know why…the emcee asked me to continue, and I could only say please repeat…which, like magic he said, key, spell key…and why I asked him to use it in a sentence I don’t know, perhaps gamesmanship, or what not, he said “ The door was open with the Key,” where gleefully I shouted, Key K-E-Y Key and there it was I had one, streamers would flutter and balloons would soar, I was the champion of the third grade spelling bee, with a celebration however that certainly was short lived for me…

So there I stood, back in that room, the spot light was glaring intense and hot, but I had the key, and I could finally open that door…which I of course, promptly did….

One toe after the other, into the door I did go…and my jaw dropped…as there were so many doors I could not count, but luckily, I found the one that said home…and the next thing I knew, I awoke, in my bed, in my house…glad that dream was done, yet, sort of fearing if I’d have to return, when I next would close my eyes, that night or tomorrow…

Not so Fluent anymore

Colossal degradation of inner fear
Tis good right…

Which made me wonder,
when did my inner voice
start talking with an
unknown dialect

Probably about the same point
you got too cool to
pay attention

If you only would’ve listened
you would’ve heard
him telling you
about the buy one
get one half price
and
then
both of you
could’ve
aligned your
conversations,
kick back
and
enjoy being
free to dream

Kind of like it used to be
way back
way back before

yep… tis true