Deaf Girl in a Powerful Song

 

Khatia Buniatishvili at Piano

I found another world in my deep pockets.

I reached in my hand for my keys, and I pulled out a distant dream.

I was no longer the person I remembered.

I was a deaf girl in a powerful song.

I could feel and see the sounds like colors.

When I tossed my arms into the air the pinks and blues wisped up with me like scarves in the wind.

The more I kept in motion the more it was like a dance.

Time seemed to be frozen and moving soft and slow,

 for that moment was all there was to know.

I twirled and raised my hands

I no longer needed the words.

The rumbles of the beat were all I needed to hold,

but all who sleep soundly eventually do wake up.

Sometimes dreams are for sleeping and others are for living.

Now I blindly search for words to write to a song I have never heard.

***********************************

🎶Note:

I really struggled writing this week. Not sure why I am having such a dreadful dry spell, but the last few months have been brutal that way.  On a positive note, I am delighted we had such a wonderful response this week to the theme. Thank you everyone!

Have a great week writers!

Linking with the Sunday Muse for Muse #222

Come join us!

My Heart is a Roaming Lion

 

Linking with the Sunday Muse for Muse # 124

Come join us!

I feel your embrace in my deepest of dreams

and I realize love is a refuge that cannot be torn down

bullets are feathers that carry no weight

hatchets cannot swing that far

death is a bridge we all must cross

heading north

but love is a compass that points in all directions

back before I knew the ache

of an empty chair at the table

my heart was a roaming lion

and your love was a tree branching out

that kept me safe

I rested upon you full weight

the fear of falling never crossed my mind

my heart had never known the pounding

of hitting the ground so hard

now I roam streets on my own

hunting for places

that no longer stand before me

yet I feel your embrace in my deepest of dreams

and I have come to know

love is a refuge

that cannot be torn down.

The Dream Poems

   Rebeca Cygnus photography
Visit her website HERE

Linking with the Sunday Muse for Muse # 77

In a dream you are never eighty.  ~Anne Sexton


I double dog dared myself to write 2 poems for this one, so here are my poems for the promt:

The Casualties of Dreams,

Awake I dream of what could be

But Asleep I dream of what has been

re-living my past as a person at times I barely know

each place is a little different

and yet everything is always the same

I brave storms in rooms I have lived in

and walk close to the edge of cliffs where

I know I have never walked

fearless as I would have been

 before I ever knew what it was to fall

yet all the fears I have learned to hold

come out like pigeons wanting crumbs

and every struggle I have wrestled with

manifests itself like a spirit

 that floats through walls

that I rarely can escape

I almost lose my dearest love

 down every dangerous street

As I fall further from where I once was

Lost and feeling alone

Then my father

 who has been gone for decades

 enters asking me

 do I know where I am?

My voice answers

 I am only dreaming

As my heart answers,

Yes I am here to visit you!

For awake I dream of what could be

But asleep I dream of what has been.

************************************

The Soul's Odyssey,


It is as an excursion of the heart
when we lay our head to rest
where the matters of the soul
journey back to be a guest
the day rewinds from eyes open to eyes shut
 and our thoughts reach out to explore
opening every closed window
and running through every open door
from childhood homes and play grounds
to peril in the streets
it is a high action movie
that is viewed from within the sheets

The Visitation

~This photo was taken in the house my grandparents lived in, and I am the awkward little girl sitting by my grandmother.~

Linking with Poets United for "Telling Tales" with the lovely and amazing Magaly Guerrero

for A Pantry of Prose # 2 ~ Magical Realism

Come join us!

Some people have had lost loved ones visit them in their dreams, and believe me when I say, this has happened to me many times.  It always leaves you feeling both comforted and saddened at the same time.  Like re-bruising an old injury brings the pain back to the surface.  This story takes it a step further.

When I was growing up, my maternal grandparent’s home was my summer vacation home, and where I stayed for most holidays, and many weekends.  It was more than a visit when I went to Grandmaw and Grandpaw’s house.   That house was my favorite place in the whole world! There was so much sadness, and hard silences at home, so their house was a lovely home to me and a place of refuge for my heart.

We had a peaceful routine, and they both spent true time with me; telling stories, singing songs, indulging me with my silly performances with a cassette recorder and my talk shows that I made up including them in the skit.  It was no lie that I was much closer to my grandparents than I was my own parents.

 Then sadly, from the time I was 13 to 16 years old I lost both my Grandparents; my Grandmaw to pneumonia, and later my Grandpaw passed in his sleep.  The phone call I got for him was devastating.  I had lost them both, and I went through a depression for many months.

Time does have a way of easing the pain, but for 30 years after that time I dreamed of that house every single night! It was as if it was a beautiful ghost comforting me with a visitation in my dreams.  You see that house represented all that was close to my heart; my Grandparents, the joy we shared, and the peace of a happy and secure place.

 It still visits me to this day. 

Note:

I need an editor with me at all times, so if there are major rule and punctuation errors in this, that is why. I do love these prose prompts, because they make me stretch out of my comfort zone some.  Thank you Magaly for helping us spread our wings!

It Is What It Is

Dream House by Jim Warren

Linking with The Sunday Muse for Muse # 13
Also linking with Poets United for Poetry Pantry
A lot of 13s going on here....hope that is a lucky sign not a bad one. LOL

Life is what we make it, always has been, always will be. ~Grandma Moses



~Sometimes my eyes are cactus near a flowing stream~

Life is like a dusty chandelier and the dimmer the setting
 the less you can see what can be done. 


~Sometimes my lips are bankrupt in a solemn fortress~

Life is like a triple scoop ice cream cone
and if you do not eat it earnestly while you can
it will melt all over and leave a big mess


~Sometimes my heart feels like just a spoon of pepto in a world of disease~

Life is like a crystal vase upon a table
it is meant to be filled with beautiful flowers not be empty on a shelf.


~Sometimes my feet are red wood trees in a fast moving blaze~

Life is like a tall rocky mountain
it is majestic and an inspiration to stand before yet also an utter struggle to climb.


~Sometimes my hands are frail like bent limbs on a dying tree~

Life is like an unbridled horse
that runs free out of our control
yet still we try to tame it.

Note:

I have spent many years not seeing what I should, not relishing what I could, not being all I could be,  and trying to control what was out of my hands. It seems some lessons do not come easy.  Gaining wisdom has been like taming an unbridled horse.  It is hard, and it is going to take some time.  I suppose life is meant to be a process of learning and growth.  If it were meant to be easy, it would be.  I just feel a bit weary sometimes.  I am a slow learner and I have the bunions to prove it.    I am in need of a true vacation, maybe a trip to the beach to just walk the shore, count my blessings, and pick up some sea shells along the way.   

Like the Unfolding of a Flower

a storm to move mountains by Brook Shaden click here

I am the daughter of Earth and Water,
And the nursling of the Sky;
I pass through the pores of the ocean and shores;
I change, but I cannot die....
~Percy Bysshe Shelley, "The Cloud"

Linking with dVerse for the Brook Shaden prompt and with Poetry Jam "clouds" prompt

Like the changes we face in life, clouds can represent the passions of the heart.  They can be soft to the eyes on a peaceful day, and then full of darkness and bolts of lightning in a thunderstorm.
Life is full of changes like the sky can be filled with clouds; each one unique and ever evolving into something more.



Clouds evolve like the unfolding of a flower

from a bud into a full bloom

and so do our hopes and passions in life

they spark within and then evolve into view

 

 like the vapors that make up the clouds

these hopes and cares we hold dear stay alive

 

this magnificent move from sea to air

is part of the growth of what makes us truly thrive.

 

 

 

 

Like Bullets Ricochet

 

The Mag #223

 

 

 

 In a dream you are never eighty.  ~Anne Sexton

Like bullets ricochet so do memories within our nightly dreams
they shoot blindly at our heart and then bounce out into lights gleam
All the lost agendas and acts that got stored onto a tape
rewind in awkward segments like a movie that won't erase.
Sometimes they are a message of a path we should not cross
while others are a film of recollections that once were truly lost.
They are an obscure journey that ventures deep into the mind
where life's hidden plots and mysteries unravel for us to find.




I have always believed that our dreams hold a deep meaning yet at times they are simply just an unraveling of the day and days gone by.  Sometimes you get obscurity and other times a clear message, but either way you get a morsel of truth for thought.  To me it is like a movie inside my mind.  When I was 15 years old, I had the BIG dream of writing a book that would be made into a screen play.  So at night sometimes in my dreams I would dream a story that played out, and at the closing, I would say "the end", and I would wake up.  Yes, it sounds a little crazy, but it is true.  Okay I am crazy, but that is another story.

THE END :-)

 

Life Lessons

Object to be Destroyed by Man Ray

The Mag #146


In our living room we had a beautiful piano with a metronome that my mother made my brother use when he learned to play.  Of course, he really did not choose to take piano lessons, this was a dream of my mother's.  She played beautifully by ear, and wanted him to master the piano by the book, correctly note by note.  Although he became quite good, I think he resented the tedious practice he invested in a dream that was not his own.  Sadly, my mother passed away when my brother was merely 15 years old, and though he had already given up the lessons a year or two earlier, he would never touch that piano again after her death.  It always seemed like such a shame to me, that such talent would be wasted, but it was not my decision to make.  He had endured the many hours of practice, not for his own dreams, but for our mother's longing to pass down a legacy of musical craftsmanship. 

Many years have passed now, and both my brother and mother have been gone for over 10 years.  I have raised children of my own, followed my own dreams, and dealt with my own misguided hardships along the way.  It is in those experiences that I have learned that nothing is ever insignificant, meaningless nor wasted time.  Each moment and everything that happens has a bigger purpose at its core.  Sometimes we learn things in the empty spaces, the cracks in the china that cannot be seen,the notes that were never played, and the piano lessons that were never completed.  My brother may not have appreciated the gift he had been given, but its blessings have expanded outward like ripples in a pond.  What he experienced, and how he dealt with it, influenced my reaction to many things in my life as well.  Whenever I have been faced with a difficult situation or a chore I did not want to deal with, I have indirectly responded to many of the struggles remembering the loss he sustained.  All the drudgery of practice and pushing the keys of a dream that he never truly held within his heart and hands seemed aimless, but it was not.  It taught me a great lesson about life, beauty, and the significance of everything.