Thursday, June 20, 2013

Dreamflower

Dreamflower







I dream
of a flower.

You dream
of a machine
with housing so elegant, so complete,
no grit can ever get in.

I dream of days I
husked like cornsilk.

You dream
of going fast, of red,
and the roar as your fist
pounds away your father.

I dream of spotted fawns
and  brown eyes.







~May 2013

Fawn near the Office







55 disappearing  petals for     the g-man






Top Image: © joyannjones
Footer Image: Fawn near Office, by mock turtle on flick'r


22 comments:

  1. def an interesting contrast in the two of you...i will take dirt and nature over going fast anyday...and new life...and you can keep the corn silk, i'll just take whats on the cob...with butter and salt...smiles.

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  2. Great juxtaposition here, Joy Ann. I love the "I dream" couplets, there are far too many of the "you dream" in this world for my taste. Great poem, suits my mood as of late.

    Pamela

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  3. What a freakin cool pic Moon Bat
    I like both Nature and Machine
    I loved your contrasting 55
    Of course I Love everything you write, even the esoteric scribblings I don't get!
    Thanks for playing, I'm always honoured beyond words
    You are our little resident genius
    Have a Kick Ass Week End

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    1. Thanks, G--always my pleasure to play in the word sandbox with you.

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  4. So cool, hedgewitch. And lyrical. And beautiful. Sicker than a dog, so I'm waaay behind in commenting, but hope to catch up soon.

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  5. Opposites attract :) Had deer and fawns napping and eating in my back yard last year. I forgot I took some photos! I'll have to dig them up and do something with them. Really admire the slow/fast rhythm of this - at least it reads that way for me.

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  6. A twisted pair of tableaux, still life with hammer, the fast and the gentle, all at a distance. ~ M

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  7. Two very different views. Almost an alchemical coming together.

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  8. Very very nice! I love the comparisons- thanks!

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  9. This is a wonderful poem.. The lines "I dream of days I husked like cornsilk," describes some pretty incredible days and is such a wonderfully vivid way of putting it - I can just see that kind of golden day, the hours shuffling sweetly off (sort of like clothes!)

    The contrast here is so terribly painful, and I found the last stanza a wonderful, if subtle, way of tying up the two as the "I" takes on the spotted fawn, which one kind of sees here as a young "you" - and one can see the togetherness.

    I love the desire for control so evident in the machine dream - and yet it's not a bad kind of control -not a take-over-the-world kind but of protection, and here again is an echo of why the two may be together - the protective quality of the you, because grit is not exactly the same as earth or soil - there is not a huge amount of grit in corn silk , for example, and maybe some protection from grit is needed. I also love that the dream is about housing as much as the machine.

    The red is like a fast car at first and then we come to the red of the pounding and seeing red, and father and that is very sad, especially when followed up with the brown eyes of the fawn. Anyway, I think it all works super well. k.

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    1. Dreams are an interesting part of us, I think. For some, bad things get buried very far below the surface, and can only be accessed in dreams. For others, perhaps the opposite. Dreams are always about what is below, hidden under the floorboards. Thanks so much for the close reading and kind words, k.

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  10. Wonderful contrasts here. I love the phrase "days I husked like cornsilk." Beautiful.

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  11. I love your dreams, Hedge. Especially of spotted fawns.

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  12. Husking, like cornsilk ~~~ oh, I am melting.

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  13. I read this to my husband -
    He said: This sums it all up - the difference between men and women is right here. He also said it was the best poem he has read in a long time. It is perfect!

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    1. Thank you Kerry, and your husband as well.

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    2. I agree that this might be a new favorite (among many) for me too. k.

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  14. I hesitate to say I am both "I" and "You" in this round, fully-breathing poem. Dreams, asleep or awake, do a fine job of guiding us. It is through dreaming, in fact, that I began to understand metaphor. really brilliant piece, Hedge.

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    1. Thanks, Jane. Metaphor and message, indeed.

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  15. I like the speaker's dreams, particularly that middle couplet. What a contrast between these two. Sometimes that ends up allowing both to be more than they would have been alone, and sometimes it just makes a lot of heartache.

    The little pic at the end is so sweet. I confess I worry for the speaker in this poem, if she is as vulnerable as she seems, especially with Mr. Red around.

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  16. Can these dreamers make a waking pair? With these lines:

    I dream of days I
    husked like cornsilk.

    You dream
    of going fast, of red,
    and the roar as your fist
    pounds away your father.


    you say more than a 1,000 page tome.

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'Poetry is an echo asking a shadow to dance' ~Carl Sandburg