Beatrice had passed.
But now she was back.
She was naked
then not, and wearing
a long, strange, multi-colored
wig
that mostly covered some of her.
She was still beautiful, but
she looked so different!
In the dream, she died at 39;
so why is she still alive!?
And now we turned, and went
on a long, strange trip, traveling
on many bizarre, futuristic contraptions;
some like giant roller coasters that were,
and were not, at the same time.
(Just about to fall from your seat,
dangling in mid-air,
you realize you won’t,
over and over again.)
Fearless, fantastic, floating, futuristic
contraptions, stretching across a nameless
ocean which makes the Pacific look like
a puddle on another planet with
no final destination in sight.
And singingly, swimmingly, hey, ho, ah, oh,
whoa, my favorite girlfriend is back, still
beautiful but so, so different, somehow.
Friendly, whale-sized dolphins laughing
below us, fabulously glowing, radiant,
giant white seagulls soaring above us
as we two flew.
I could feel
the wind
from their wings
brushing our hair.
She had taken my hand
almost like in life
when mother was gone
and I was a child.
I didn’t know; we didn’t talk; we didn’t need to;
launched into a time where
no more talking is needed.
And it was OK, and she knew
where we were going.
Saragun Springs 
Dale
Hopeful and even romantic! Sometimes poems gain too much speed and end up as mind wrecks, but you controlled the flow with expert use of language. The effect is sweeping, much what like above a friendly alien sea should be.
Leila
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Thank you, Leila!
A well-known effect of THC consumption is that once you stop taking it regularly, your nighttime dreams almost immediately become a thousand times more intense. So that, if you have the patience to lock the homemade gummies in the cupboard for a while, you’re in for a very wild ride. (Paradoxically, of course, daydreams can be much more vivid DURING consumption. SO it’s a trade-off.) (And all of this reminds us what we do to the brain and body when we add or remove any kind of chemical.)
I realized that the line breaks in this poem happen when there’s a rapid shift (instantaneous) in the narrator’s consciousness. And only then. SO that is the reason for why the line breaks happen when they do (or one of them).
So this poem was inspired by a summer dream, though it is not the dream. The dream itself was indescribable. This poem is the narrative that TRIES to get at the truth – of the dream.
The David Bowie ghost/s poem from yesterday and this one are companion pieces. Both deliberately chosen for December. Also, it’s worth throwing out there that some poem-voices are singing, and some are speaking, whispering, mumbling, or in other tones, like energetic urgency. Robert Frost’s “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening” is a poem in which the poet speaks, and doesn’t sing. “Samson in New Orleans,” by Leonard Cohen, is a song in which the singer speaks, and doesn’t sing. (Stay tuned for more on Cohen’s song “Samson in New Orleans” from the Drifter later in December to any and all who care.) In Dylan’s “Murder Most Foul,” the singer also speaks instead of sings. The effect will shock one to the core of his or her foundations.
Who Beatrice really is, is the key…
Thank you Leila!
Dale
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Hi Dale
I understand how the two works relate. This one has a swooping dream quality, and although yesterday was on the ground, so to speak, they both rise, and as O’Connor told us, must converge.
Yes, there is a little space created during the reduction of chemicals in the brain. Burroughs wrote of it, a creative nook that does not stay open long because cravings break in and take over. I know of it; short lived, like lightning, but extremely powerful while around.
Leila
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…Time to watch “THE JUNKY’S CHRISTMAS” again soon! Burroughs was an unlikely Santa Claus but nevertheless, the proof is there in the fiction (as it is in all good fiction)…
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Hi Dale
This has the feeling of Jesus’ resurrection when he came back but looked different.
A dream quality… I wonder how Freud might interpret these thoughts and images.
A lost girl friend reunited in this place of fantasy. Taking a wild ride–almost like time travel. And evolving…
It reminded me of Ray Bradbury and HG Wells.
Excellent work!
CJA
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CJA
Thanks so much for these fabulous, imaginative interpretations and references (and imagined scenarios like the Freud thing) which I will be studying this evening. From Christ to Freud to Wells and Bradbury – what fantastic range!
Your ability to read and respond to others’ writing always marks you as a master of the craft. And becoming a master of the craft requires so many different talents and abilities at once that I can’t even begin to describe it (right now because I’m written out for today).
DWB
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DWB
Thanks!
Hey I watched a cool video on YouTube. The Highway Men, singing the “The Highway Men,” J Cash, W. Nelson, W Jennings, and Kris Kristofferson. 1985.
This is one amazing video.
CJA
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