Showing posts with label nightmares. Show all posts
Showing posts with label nightmares. Show all posts

Saturday, June 24, 2023

Soul Ink is Here #8Sunday #SnipSun

 


Genre: Poetry

Heat Level: Poetic

ASIN: ‎ B0C481638W 
   
Publisher: ‎ Dragon Soul Press; 1st edition (June 23, 2023)

Publication date: ‎ June 23, 2023

Buy Link

Price
$1.99 ebook

$19.99 paperback

Blurb

Poetry; a unique and beautiful way to express feelings and ideas. Weaving words into perfect poetic prose, these authors remind you of your childhood, bring comfort from the hardships of life, fiercely spur emotions, and tell tales of old. All lovers of poetry will find a favorite here!

Featuring poetry by the following authors: John Grey, Kellee Kranendonk, J.E. Feldman, Debbie Hadow, Nina Padolf, Dibyasree Nandy, Brianna Witte, Nnadi Samuel, Rhiannon Bird, Sunayna Pal, Christopher R. Muscato, Vanessa Bane, Edward Cody Huddleston, Prathyush Devadas, Ed Ahern, and Cara Hartley.

Selection

Dreams of Disaster

What do dreams of disaster mean?

Can chaotic nightmares compare

To a true emergency scene?

What do dreams of disaster mean?

What knowledge can we from them glean

When studying them if we dare?

What do dreams of disaster mean?

Can chaotic nightmares compare?

Notes

This poem was included in the recently published Soul Ink anthology along with twenty-four more of my poems and works by other poets. The ebook is only $1.99, which is a lot of poetry for a little money!

I have recurring nightmares about disasters. Tornadoes top the list, but nuclear strikes are far from unheard of, and volcanoes sometimes show up at the party. Floods are, surprisingly, less frequent. I've written about my experiences with my car being hit by a wave of water during a flood. Perhaps I've repressed that memory, or at least the feelings that go along with it, because I don't enjoy having panic attacks.

https://poetryofthenetherworld.blogspot.com/2022/04/a-hard-rain-in-boulder-colorado-wep.html

I imagine I had one of my tornado dreams before writing this poem.

Another greatest hit involves driving down a steep road with soft brakes. 

Also topping the charts is driving into the mountains and coming to a chasm, which I proceed to somehow carry my car across. While this dream might sound triumphant, it is actually extremely nerve-wracking. 

Another banger involves finding myself parked beneath an underpass in a seedy part of town. 

Yet another all-time favorite involves being in an underground spa and trying to find a vacant stall in the locker/shower room with a door or curtain so I can have some privacy while doing the necessary. Most of the stalls don't have doors. There are usually only women in this area, but sometimes there are men as well because why not up the discomfort ante, I guess.

Bathroom dreams have only one true meaning:

The sleeping person needs to do their business.

I get that part, but why does my subconscious always create a poorly lit spa/changing room setting with pipes running everywhere? 

In any case, I am sharing this with multiple blog hops. I'm currently working to finish a story that has been giving me fits so I can submit it to Dragon Soul Press for potential inclusion in their Beautiful Darkness 2 anthology.

https://dragonsoulpress.com/shortstorycalls/

My PTSD has also been really extra this month. I've finally found someone I think I can work with on the many years of awfulness that I've shoved down into the recesses of my mind. For some reason, my recent dentist's appointment brought a whole bunch of crap to the surface. I need to go back in four days and try again because I wasn't able to go through with the procedure. So, I'm kind of a wreck and need to do what's easiest. I hope you can understand.

~Ornery Owl Has Waxed Poetic and Flashed Back~


Image by Ulrich B. from Pixabay

Hop On!



Would you like to know what I was listening to while I wrote this? Of course you would! Only the best Krautrock will do, Baby!


https://odysee.com/@TerminalPassage:c/richard-wahnfried-%E2%80%93-tonwelle-%281981%29:5?r=GTwnGJ4fFBQfzuJgpHVpfKBKaC9b8B16



Wednesday, April 12, 2023

Poetry Prompts and Inspiration Day 12 April PAD Challenge and NaPoWriMo 2023

 


Dear Poetry People, I hope your morning was better than mine. I woke from a terrible dream, but since I can't drink alcohol anymore, I was unable to call up my old pal Jack Daniels and his partner Jimmy Beam. So it goes.


Today's NaPoWriMo challenge asks participants to to write a poem that addresses itself or some aspect of its self (i.e., “Dear Poem,” or “what are my quatrains up to?”; “Couplet, come with me . . .”) 

I didn't quite do that. My poem includes the line "dear poet, what the fuck is wrong with you?"

Why the fuck is Grammarly wanting me to capitalize the first word within quotation marks even when the quotation is contained in a sentence? I swear, this is a new and stupid thing. Grammarly also wants me to "correct" that first sentence to read "Why the fuck is Grammarly want me to capitalize the first word within quotation marks?" 

Me speaking real good English.

Anyway...


Today's April PAD Challenge prompt asks us to write a sound poem. I address the sound of screams following a nightmare. 

I hope you enjoyed this fucked-up foray into the world of my parasomnias. I feel like I need a nap to recover from the trauma of sleeping.

~Ornery Owl Has Spoken~

Image by thank_you from Pixabay


Friday, April 15, 2022

April PAD Challenge/NaPoWriMo 2022 Day 15



Good morning, Poetry People. It's too early, but I woke from a terrible dream at 3 AM, and since I'd end up in the ER if I called up my old pal Jack Daniels and his partner Jimmy Beam, I decided I'd go down to the sea with my old friend Debussy instead. Never mind all that, let's get started.

This post goes on a bit of a downward spiral at the end, so you may just want to hit it to see the prompts I used and then quit it. In fact, this is the strategy that I advise.

Uninfluenced


Write a poem about something in which you have absolutely no interest.

I have absolutely no interest in so-called "influencers." I couldn't give a flea fart in an F5 tornado what these self-absorbed prats have to say.


Write a patience poem.

I wrote an anti-patience poem about my lack of patience with self-proclaimed "influencers."

I wonder what has been influencing these very lifelike but thankfully unrealistic dreams I've been having lately. I suppose it's down to stress like it always was. I feel like part of me is being destroyed from within and changed into something cold, dead, and sociopathic, and I'm projecting that feeling onto the image of the person who is closest to me.

I know this makes no sense and I wish I could talk about it with the person I used to discuss dreams with, but they have too much else going on in their life and no time for my mushy-headed bullshit. I imagine that feeling utterly alone, adrift, and misunderstood isn't doing my crap subconscious much good.

For the love of all that may be holy, don't bleat out the old "but mental health professional" bullshit. Those fuckers never helped me a damn bit, plus I live 50 miles from any city, and fuck a whole lot of that shit. I need a friend and preferably one who is open-minded to the metaphysical, not a psychoanalyst. I understand enough about psychology where I can figure that shit out on my own. 

I don't trust easily, and I'm really not looking for anyone to "solve" my problems. Really, I'm simply overthinking things and don't have anyone to help me deflect my pain. Boo fucking hoo, it's not like I'm the last friendless person in the Universe. It's a tale as old as time. I don't need no doctor and I don't want no drugs. I just want to get the last bit of that lousy dream out of my system so I can get back to sleep.

Maybe my old friend Claude can play me a reverie so I can sail back to the Land of Nod and go fishing for better dreams.

~Meanwhile, Ornery Owl is Still Thinking~



Tuesday, October 25, 2016

OctPoWriMo 2016: Day 25: The Red Curtain

http://www.123rf.com/profile_dvarg

The Red Curtain

What lies behind the red curtain, Pepper dear?
Is it the lost dreams of your wasted youth?
Is it everything that you have come to fear?
Is it the ugly, unforgiving truth?
You are everything that your young self despised
Perhaps it is she who will confront you now
Perhaps you'll see your wretched life eulogized
But who would wish to remember you anyhow?
Do you think that anyone could ever love you?
Do you think that your precious ghost will want to stay?
Why would anyone stay when they don't have to?
At first chance, he'll surely run away
You'll be alone forever in the end
No one even wants to be your friend

Yadira Root
to 
Pepper Baiij

form:
Beymorlin sonnet
(Shakespearian form)
http://www.thepoetsgarret.com/sonnet/beymorlin.html