(no subject)
Oct. 10th, 2003 09:44 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
glauconfrom time to time, I have a dream entirely in rhyme and meter. I usually wake up and find that I've forgotten almost all of it upon waking. the part that sticks with me is usually the last 4 lines of whatever poem I was dreaming.
last year, for example, I dreamed the following:
X is the captain, Y is the chief
X defies description, Y defies belief
Y denies religion and somehow comes to grief
X decries deception which comes as some relief.
it was part of a much longer piece that went through many permutations and details on who X and Y really were (although they were referred to as "X" and "Y" throughout) and what their relationship was to each other. the snippet above was, as near as I can tell, the opening lines and the closing lines as well.
this morning, I dreamed a 50 or 60 line piece in rhyming couplets about bikers and heart attacks and showering cats and swimming pools and disillusionment with the industrial revolution in 19th century england. I could only recall the final four lines upon waking. they were:
Then they return to their trains all alone,
sit behind smokestacks, and try to go home,
but eventually realize they're chimneys instead
burning food in their bodies and thoughts in their heads.
crazy old thing, the unconscious mind.
last year, for example, I dreamed the following:
X is the captain, Y is the chief
X defies description, Y defies belief
Y denies religion and somehow comes to grief
X decries deception which comes as some relief.
it was part of a much longer piece that went through many permutations and details on who X and Y really were (although they were referred to as "X" and "Y" throughout) and what their relationship was to each other. the snippet above was, as near as I can tell, the opening lines and the closing lines as well.
this morning, I dreamed a 50 or 60 line piece in rhyming couplets about bikers and heart attacks and showering cats and swimming pools and disillusionment with the industrial revolution in 19th century england. I could only recall the final four lines upon waking. they were:
Then they return to their trains all alone,
sit behind smokestacks, and try to go home,
but eventually realize they're chimneys instead
burning food in their bodies and thoughts in their heads.
crazy old thing, the unconscious mind.
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no subject
Date: 2003-10-10 10:17 am (UTC)And how do these dreams manifest, as auditory tracks, or do you see the text?
Your answers will determine which cast member of Yes, Dear you are.
no subject
Date: 2003-10-10 10:25 am (UTC)my favorite poets are auden and yeats who are definitely formal.
so...yeah, kinda.
the one about X and Y was auditory.
the one last night was visual...I was an emotionally connected third person observer who was watching the story unfold as the poem ran through my head as something like a voice over.
it always seems to happen in october.
no subject
Date: 2003-10-10 12:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-10-10 01:46 pm (UTC)october sky
Date: 2003-10-10 06:53 pm (UTC)I have had dreams where I'm reading something written, hearing something read or writing things, that will stick a bit with me after I wake up. That space between waking and dreaming can be very powerful and David Henry Hwang (author of M. Butterfly) used to write lying on his stomach on legal pads either first thing in the morning or just before going to bed so he'd be close to his dream state.
It's a full moon this week and that could have a lot to do with it. Hope you get some more inspiration before it passes. I'm sure October has everything to do with it.
no subject
Date: 2003-10-12 04:40 pm (UTC)It's usually when I haven't written anything for several weeks or more, and I start having these dreams where I'm writing this GREAT poem, and but like I'm aware it's a dream and I keep thinking how I have to be sure to remember as much of it as I can when I wake up-- and then when I do, it's either all gone, or what I can salvage doesn't make any sense. (And not in a good way.) Drives me fucking nuts.