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Postcard for Nina

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Dear Friend,

I got lost in another dream. I was on the edge, searching for a map.  I fell onto the blue river of time.  The flowers growing together inside the stars cast me home with song, just like you do.

Love, Me

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I started with “dear friend”, and the Oracle sent me a lovely message for Nina.  This blog, and my art and writing, would not be here without her encouragement and support.  Thank you my friend!

logo-napowrimoFor NaPoWriMo Day 28.  Almost there…

Collage inspired by Joan Mitchell’s painting “Ici”.

 

Dream Pantoum

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Don’t lose the number she said.
Her face contained a message I could not read.
The number blurred and then erased itself in my hand.
Who has stolen the letters of my name?

Her face contained a message I could not read.
The words rearranged themselves into something geometric and alien.
Who has stolen the letters of my name?
She pretended that she had never seen me before.

The words rearranged themselves into something geometric and alien.
Don’t call me that I said.
She pretended that she had never seen me before.
No space would open to hold my configuration.

Don’t call me that I said.
The words stubbornly resisted my efforts to speak over them.
No space would open to hold my configuration.
A stranger took my hand and led me out of control.

The words stubbornly resisted my efforts to speak over them.
I tried to convey the causes of my distress.
A stranger took my hand and led me out of control.
We faded away, farther and longer away.

I tried to convey the causes of my distress.
The number blurred and then erased itself in my hand.
We faded away, farther and longer away.
Don’t lose the number she said.

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I love the puzzle of composing a pantoum.  Loosely following the Day 19 NaPoWriMo prompt to compose a poem from a story, I used the dream I had last night just before waking.  I had this stitched magazine face in mind, too, as an accompaniment.  Below is a synopsis of the source for the poem

My Dream

They gave me a name tag and a number. “Don’t lose the number,” they said, but immediately my number blurred and then erased itself.  The name was not my name, but it stubbornly resisted my efforts to mark over it.

I tried to tell the woman who seemed to be in charge that I needed to be called something different, not the letters that formed a sound that belonged to someone else. She pretended not to hear.

Someone took my seat. Someone I was sure I knew acted as if they had never seen me before.

We were supposed to write stories. I could find no notebook, no pencil or pen that belonged to me.

I sat in the back, alone.

A stranger, a tall young man, his face all glasses, took my hand and led me away. I tried to convey my distress; tell him my story.  He smiled and did not answer.

We faded away, farther and longer away.

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 Also linking to dVerse open link night.

Moondrunk

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Bitter seas rip time
suspended in storms screaming
cravings of raw dreams

Let urges lie still—sleeping
on ships of moondrunk wishes

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I haven’t consulted with the Oracle in awhile.  No one I know is sleeping well these days–I like her advice.  She graciously included the Secret Keeper’s words from this week as well.

I’m also connecting with dVerse Open Link Night.

 

Draw a Bird Day: Hoopoe

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I Ask the Hoopoe Three Questions

In my dreams I am always traveling: as Joni says, “looking for something, what can it be?”  My home is the stairway down to the subway, up to the train platform, watching the landscape moving beside the bus.

Here I am again, on the road…in the median I see the bird—huge, red crested, black and white striped wings. I step off the highway into the lush green.

Hoopoe is both real and mythical.  It is associated with death, war, and disease, but also with purity, virtue and leadership. Sometimes it is a messenger between heaven and earth.

I like best the hoopoe in the Sufi story-poem, “The Conference of the Birds”.

What did you
find at the end of
your journey?
Dark and light
intermingling inside your
eye?  Do you know Crow?

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I really did have this dream, and spent a few days online looking for the bird.  I knew the hoopoe from the Sufi story, but I don’t think I knew what it really looked like.  It’s a beauty!  dVerse also had a prompt earlier in the week about hometowns, which was the starting point for my haibun .

You can read about “The Conference of the Birds” here.  And I highly recommend Peter Sis’ beautifully illustrated version of it, which you can read about here.

And any excuse for some Joni Mitchell (I was at this concert).

Happy Draw-a Bird Day!

Wolf Dream

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My dream is singing
my dream is death rising

My dream calls spirits
my dream frees ghosts that are me

My dream is all eyes
my dream is everywhere here

Trust the keeper
trust the howling caught inside
trust the chaos and the night

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I know some cultures have 13 names for the moon year, but I’m going with this being the Blue Wolf Moon.  Hopefully, a harbinger of better times for all–

Insomnia

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the whispering
of time–the shadow
of a still
wind raw with
dreams—is this sleepless song the
language we deserve?

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I haven’t been sleeping well, but I didn’t set out to write about it.  As usual the Magnetic Oracle knows what’s on my mind.

The monoprint is twice removed–done first on corrugated cardboard and then printed on paper a few times in different positions from the cardboard print (I used a lot of paint for the original), changing the paper orientation.  I could embroider it too to give it some more texture.  Another project for the list…

I began with Miz Quickly’s prompt word “deserve”.  My response isn’t exactly following her instructions–as my mother often said, so what else is new.

 But it did get me thinking about what we deserve.  What DO we deserve?  Do we “deserve” anything?  It’s a provocative question.

 

Wolf Dream

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My dream is singing
my dream is magic rising

My dream calls spirits
my dream frees ghosts that are me

My dream is all eyes
my dream is everywhere here

Trust the Keeper
trust the howling caught inside
trust the chaos
of illusive night

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A bit of magic for dVerse. I’ve been worrying this poem for quite awhile…it originated in morning dream-feelings of images I couldn’t quite catch rather than an actual dream.  And this recent monoprint seemed just right for the text.

Talking Dream

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Really? Talking birds?
Me too!  Taking flight in seas
of evanescence…

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This is loosely a response to the Secret Keeper’s Haiku Review prompt for “How to Recount Your Dreams”.

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But mostly it’s an excuse to use the birdlings that appeared on my drawing table a few days ago.

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I have a feeling that they will be back…

I’ve also posted this on dVerse, open link night.

Several people have told me that my recent comments have ended up in their spam folder.  I find comments to us from other people in there as well.  Just one of the WordPress quirks–it pays to check it out every few days just in case.

Cipher

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Who can hold a cloud?
The sky dances with stray dreams—
a gift of nothing

For Sue Vincent’s photo prompt, above.  Continuing my haikus that start with a question.

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Sometimes the best gifts are those we can’t quite grasp.

Dragon’s Lair

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Do you hear the voices
of dragons?  Do you dream fire
and water, treasure and storm?

Does your heart provide a mirror
to burn away the veil?

Again and again you seek the
fields of forgiveness, hand held
hostage by the lair of sleep.

A quadrille of dreaming for dVerse, using this week’s words from The Secret Keeper.

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The art is watercolor and ink on rice paper.

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