Dreams

2/19/00

I woke up in the middle of the night and it was light out.  The sun was in the west.  It was very warm and flowers in the garden were sprouting and growing.

Went to the beach (ocean beach, not ours) to look for shells and rocks and stuff.  Instead found books scattered about.  Old books, sandy and some damp, all over the beach.  Browsed through like at a library.  Picked up Ernest Hemingway small green old with gold seashells on the front.

Dreamed that in the woods behind my parents' house there was a steep hill.  When you climbed to the top you were on Kent Street in Chestertown (the street with the pink & purple house.)  Oh, good, now we can walk to the library!

Pulling beech trees out of the ground.



1/14/98

Parked in old historic town - to tour some houses.  History of slavery and cruelty.
Back formal garden.  White flowers.  Torture re-enactment - large swinging crane-like structure.  I am afraid I'm going to get hit by it - "Only a fool would be here."
Back to the house.  Remember descending into lower floor of a side wing of the house, a pale blue room.  Haunted.  The Blue Boy room.  Very strong presence - I am afraid.  There's a door in this room and once you exit you cannot return.  I do not exit.  He is alive - "And who is this?"  Leo. Angelo.

Angelo is the father. Leo is the son - who always gets called by his father's name.

Reoccurring Dreams - A Very Old Poem!

9/26/03

Sing a song of nightmares
A river full of dirt
Getting off the school bus
With neither pants nor shirt
In a movie theatre,
You cannot look away
You will experience your own death
At the matinee.
A cliffside full of icy caves,
A disappearing beach
The nearest fragile tree root
Is just inches out of reach
Going off to college
At thirty-three years old
Should I lie about my age,
Or should roommates be told?
Working in a restaurant
With people crowding in--
Your section's full, no help in sight
Where should you begin?
I'm on a shaky balcony
Looking at the ocean
I see emerging monsters
Slow and frightening, unreal motion
No stars are in the sky
No people in the town
The feral dogs and cats
Try to tear the buildings down

Sing a song of nightmares
I thought I had a test
Too bad I missed the lectures
And forgot about the rest
They rearranged the buildings
The calendars were gone
I ran from north to south
Across the empty, moonlit lawn
My car was in the parking lot
Earlier today,
Darkness fell, and all the cars
Were driven clean away.
I know I parked it here
It's green and kind of small--
Did somebody tow it off
Or leave it in the hall?
The shopping mall's deserted
The clothes are off the racks
Miles of cardboard boxes
Full of hangers, pins, and tacks....

Alternate Place

Night is starting to fall.
It's the very best time of day or night, when the sky still glows blue, but things on the ground are hard to see.  Little sounds are magnified, stars are beginning to wink.  White things, pale things, seem to glow in the darkness with their absorbed light.  The sheep will be the last thing I see, other than the glowing golden lights on the far shore, and the car lights passing on the curve along the shore.

1/22/04

Things That Are Evil

9/7/03


Sugar seduces
with its quenching sweetness
Island memories
Of fruit falling from the trees
settling on hips as fat;
Slowing natural energy,
Imprisoning us.

Though shoes are useful
for mountains, rocks, cold, nails and
they help us travel---
When they become convention,
required for entrance,
objects of fashion...
They separate us from the Earth
And lead us to believe that
she is not our friend.
We are her master, we think,
and not her servant
or her protector.

Clocks are evil, yes,
dividing moments,
sweet, long spontaneity
of experience
born of natural magic
into hours, minutes, seconds---
cutting short our bliss.
Enormous expectations
stuffed into each hour
swiftly subduing
sweet experience of life.

Looking for Gems (in old journals)

......in old notebooks and journals.


9/11/1995

Psychological sensory censors.  Right now I really feel that I need to write down that phrase and remember it.  I am channeling right now.  I am the oracle.  The Oracle at Delphi.  Ask me anything, but no one is asking me questions.  So much untapped potential.  Pause.

The layers of time have peeled away and for this brief moment I am myself with the dust cleared away, clean and glowing.  I have been purified at the well.

These are the tracks of my time on this planet.  The magical word.  Every world is magical.  (did I just write world?)  WORD.

A sad tomato.

The layers of time must be peeled away so that new growth can occur.  The rose bush must be pruned.  The grain must be harvested.  The leaves must be swept away and the earth left bare and clean for winter.  I have in my mind a picture (I see a vision!  Arnold Lobel, Fables.)  The cat and his visions.  Anyway, a picture of our front yard on an overcast winter day.  The grass is short and gray- green, the sidewalk swept bare.  The concrete steps lead down into the dark street, the first drops of a cold, windy rain falling down....the yew bushes show deep green down in the corner of my vision.  I am wearing my gray gloves and my cheeks and nose are cold.  I turn into the warm, faintly glowing -with- golden- light house and put water on for tea.  I light some candles.  It is afternoon.  I have the house to myself.  It is a cozy nest.  I see myself in my surroundings.


My self is in my surroundings, mirrored there because they are my surroundings.  Is this....this here....my uncovered self??  Why did I come here so urgently this evening?  Now I am here again, not in my vision.

It feels good to be clean.  I would say that I can see clearly now, if it didn't sound so sickeningly silly.

Ha!                                                                                                                                  ^^               ^^