Sunday, January 13, 2008

Witching Hour

Night is a magical place full of the possibility of the unknown. The unbelievable scenarios of dreams take place in the bruise of a dark sky freckled with the lights from unknown sources; the beams of inhabited planets and populated stars where princesses dance with salamanders wearing crowns. The king brandishes his sword in defense of the downtrodden while knights rescue dragons from pirates trying to steal eggs the size of boulders and the color of emeralds.

The breakfast table is laden with spaghetti and bowls of vanilla ice cream, cheddar cheese and bacon, and platters of King Crab legs, shelled and drenched in melted butter. A confetti concoction of salsa dribbles over crisp corn chips and starched white linen napkins.

Amazing Grace played on bagpipes is followed by Brown Eyed Girl, It Wasn’t Me and Ravel’s BolĂ©ro, the music rising and falling with orchestral deliberation. Clouds of intimidation, hammers of percussion, and waves of melody expand in the lungs like flapping butterfly wings, their movement fanning a storm thousands of miles away.

The skin is tattooed with goose bumps from a cold breeze, smoothed over by the warm touch of an affectionate hand. Fingernails on a blackboard mimic the nails of an inamorata on the bare back of her paramour, raking hard soil into furrows of fertile ground for fantasy.

Patchouli mixes with unwashed bodies. Rue, bay, frankincense, cinnamon and sage burn away ghosts and call the angels afraid to show themselves to uninspired minds. Rosemary and lavender clean away the stench of doubt and beckon lovers to embrace.

Danger and possibility, imagination and death, flight and stagnation, neon colors and nihilism, fear and knowledge, all walk hand in hand through the night.

28 comments:

  1. Yikes. Scared me.
    Either that, or moved me.
    I can't decide.
    Learned a new word: Patchouli.
    Thanks.

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  2. Going Like Sixty: That was the dichotomy I was going for.

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  3. I am confused, rattled and oblivious. It's an interesting feeling.

    night, n. the interpretation reflection of our imaginations.

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  4. I used to love to read writing like that, but now my mind is deteriorating very rapidly and I forget what most of the words mean that I once knew so well. It's like floater dots on the eyes or dust on a camera lens that blocks parts of the view and that distracts me of the over-all sense. That worries me. I read so avidly when I was young, now I have to re-read things over and over to figure what it means, even simple instructions that comes with stuff.

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  5. Very poetic and neat imagery here! I particularly love the last line!

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  6. This is an interesting dream. I sense the dichotomy you are describing here. What happens when we dream that our minds juxtapose such things. What are we asking ourselves to do? You have set my mind on a pleasure cruise!

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  7. Tom & Icy: It may not be you. I used conflicting and confusing images on purpose.

    Lynda: Welcome. I'm glad you enjoyed.

    Sandy: I can never tell what my dreams are telling me but i sure love having them.

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  8. You have much better dreams than I do. Nice work.

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  9. Kat: I often stay abed just to keep dreaming, I am so entertained.

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  10. Beautiful writing. I have problems now with everything I read, I mean, it's like reading the Jabberwocky by Lewis Carrol. So I have to go back over it several times to get it. Like that. You do wonderful writing for people who have healthy brains.

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  11. That's the kind of writing I wish I could do, among other kinds.

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  12. Tom: I thank you. I wish I could make still photos come to life like you do. You make Harry Potter pictures; D

    Mr.Fab: Thanks. We all want what we don't have. I'd love to make people laugh the way you do.

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  13. I like this one, every bit as much as I like the smell of Patchouli. I'm probably the only soaper I know who likes the stuff. Good thing, cuz it's my mom's favorite as well.

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  14. Ms. Wilde: Patchouli is such an exotic smell. It makes me think of African bizarres.

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  15. Boy compared to that my nights are so boring.

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  16. Beautiful shot, perfect crop and you and I are right in synch with pictures posted today!!!

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  17. This dream has everything...I must say I would be exhausted once I wake up...and amazed that I remembered the dream.

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  18. Darlin' I don't walk hand in hand with NO-ONE in the night I SLEEP haha!

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  19. Dr. John: I have always had very vivid, active dreams.

    David: Lights on the water are so mysterious.

    Mo'a: I am usually very tired from sleeping; D

    Gledwood: Welcome. You could do both; )

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  20. You wrote "I often stay abed just to keep dreaming, I am so entertained." I hear ya! If I didn't have to get up, I'd linger in a dream state as long as possible (that truly reveils the hidden slacker in me). Beautiful writing... the visual imagery is superb.

    Mmmm. Patchouli, cinnamon, rosemary, and lavendar... you dream smells? So cool. ~K

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  21. Spaghetti for breakfast, ick.
    One for you:

    I

    The Owl and the Pussy-cat went to sea
    In a beautiful pea green boat,
    They took some honey, and plenty of money,
    Wrapped up in a five pound note.
    The Owl looked up to the stars above,
    And sang to a small guitar,
    'O lovely Pussy! O Pussy my love,
    What a beautiful Pussy you are,
    You are,
    You are!
    What a beautiful Pussy you are!'


    II

    Pussy said to the Owl, 'You elegant fowl!
    How charmingly sweet you sing!
    O let us be married! too long we have tarried:
    But what shall we do for a ring?'
    They sailed away, for a year and a day,
    To the land where the Bong-tree grows
    And there in a wood a Piggy-wig stood
    With a ring at the end of his nose,
    His nose,
    His nose,
    With a ring at the end of his nose.


    III

    'Dear pig, are you willing to sell for one shilling
    Your ring?' Said the Piggy, 'I will.'
    So they took it away, and were married next day
    By the Turkey who lives on the hill.
    They dined on mince, and slices of quince,
    Which they ate with a runcible spoon;
    And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand,
    They danced by the light of the moon,
    The moon,
    The moon,
    They danced by the light of the moon.



    I like your blog!

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  22. Conservachick: Hi. My dreams are so real (if you don't count subject matter) that I often can't tell if I'm remembering something or if I dreamed it. Right now I'm trying to figure out if I saw a walled church I keep envisioning or if I dreamed about it.

    Goatman: I love that poem.

    Here's another by Lear:

    There was an Old Man with a beard,
    Who said, 'It is just as I feared!
    Two Owls and a Hen,
    Four Larks and a Wren,
    Have all built their nests in my beard!'

    Thanks.

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  23. Wow!! Loved the goosebumps tatoos by the wind being smoothed over by a caring hand.What vivid imagery!

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  24. Beautiful. And a little bit spooky.... ;)
    Thank you for visiting my blog. The flowers on my last post are from my garden, last summer. Just dreaming and longing...... :)
    I will add you to my blog.

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  25. Ps: Thanks. I had fun with this.

    Ida: Thank-you. Your flowers did make me feel warm all over.

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  26. WOW Nessa - thank you for spriting me away on this fabulous Friday... to a place I've only seen pieces of in my lifetime... I've never seen it all together in one place. WOW.

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  27. TSDuff: I hope you had a good, fun trip; D

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