Category: Dreams

  • I want to ride my bicycle

    I was riding my bike up a gravel hill, churning and pushing, fighting so hard my own weight almost tipped me over. I stopped a few times, put my feet down for balance and pushed off again against the pedals with every thing I had. Finally when I made it to the top, I looked…

  • Sunday Dreams

    Last night while I was sleeping, I was tortured in a dream by two people I know well, who finally banned together because I had shot their child in the back and murdered him. His bloody body lay in the shadows 30 feet ahead of me. There was no place, no setting, no background other…

  • Thoisday

    When I woke up this morning I got another rejection which makes it 3 for 11 poems in 24 hours. Bite the weenie. Fortunately, our aeropress arrived in the mail yesterday along with our nespresso milk frother and it distracted me from crying about it. I also got my Timbuk2 bag in the mail last…

  • Strange cheese wheels are turning

    In my dream last night, underneath Faith Hill’s flawless halo-self, she was a raging bitch and cut me in line and I pouted away to glaze weird pieces of pottery on a farm in Kansas where they made cheese from calves in wooden boxes and grew tomatoes that ripened in threes across a trellis. Consult…

  • Barely Lucid

    I woke up in the middle of the night feeling 8 years old – pouty, anxious, entitled, broken. Why in the strange space between dream and conscious are we at our most vulnerable? The demons seem to prowl at night – spindles and vapors colliding in atmospheres around our bodies. The strange softness of our…

  • A ceiling turned to sky

    I was in my old bedroom this morning – I’ve been dreaming about my house a lot lately, the one we no longer have in California. I suppose we want to return to the places we can’t ever go again. The places, the people we’ve lost haunt us. My mom and I drove by once,…

  • Which, if you could, would you choose?

    Through the fog and railroad tracks a scraggly man carries purses of cans. Two large white plastic bags oozing brown sugar hanging from his hands like rusted chandeliers. So many people use these tracks as roads or sidewalks. How much money would he make for his efforts? It’s cold this morning and damp. I dreamed…

  • Stress doesn't exist in a bag of cheetos

    I had many – many many many dreams last night. Trying to fit a bag of charcoal in an ATM, late to pay the bill at a restaurant, home – home home hauling 5 people on a bike and riding up to my old house wondering why cans were strewn about the court? Why 20…

  • Light

    Last night, I entered a mine, dusty and old, to take photos of the miners. I clicked and clicked away taking detail shots of gauges and clocks. I noticed a long strand of wire hanging down with a single bulb like light was a rain drop. So I decided to create a wall of hanging…

  • Friday dreams

    Last night I had a dream of the most beautiful wedding. An old house. Mason jars turned into humming bird feeders. Tables lined up in a partially enclosed planting house all arranged with flowers. It was lush and green and the bridesmaids wore deep pink dresses. They came in singing, laughing – so overjoyed to…