I ... entered the poem of life, whose purpose is ... simply to witness the beauties of the world,
to discover the many forms that love can take. (Barabara Blackman in 'Glass After Glass')


These poems are works in progress, and may be subject to revision without notice. Completed versions appear in my books. Nevertheless copyright applies to all texts found here.

4 September 2009

Recurrence

30 Poems in 30 Days, Day 2 (second poem)
The prompt was, "Write a poem that begins with you waking up." John also dropped some strong hints that we might choose to write about a dream. I didn't in my first poem for this prompt, but then decided to do that too. Just for the heck of it, and because I was wanting to play with this form, I made each verse a shadorma.


The old dream
startles me awake.
So often
in childhood …
but why does it return now,
the dream of falling?

Falling deep
between rocky walls,
a chasm.
Too slowly.
And faces leering at me –
distorted faces.

Was it Hell
that awaited me
far down there?
A child’s Hell
from fairy-tales – Grimm horrors –
and my inner dark.

I can’t know,
I never landed;
kept floating
down and down.
What demons now reclaim me –
now that I am old?

2 comments:

  1. I like this poem a lot and I think the shadorma really goes with the subject. It gives it a sort of stilted, slowed down falling feeling, just like you describe.

    I have falling dreams too and always have done. Usually there is a chase first for me, then I trip and fall, and usually it is a huge dark hole and I can see what is around me no more than I can see what is at the bottom.

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  2. I only ever remember being already in the act of falling, and the rest as described - much too slowly for real life, but of course in the dream it feels real.

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