I had a Dream (First Night)

I had a dream

or perhaps a premonition

an impression

a solitary comfort

I was walking alone

I don’t know why

 

wind howled

delirium

within my

wandering mind

 

whipping snow

like frozen tears

which melt away

into nothing

with a gentle brush

 

obscuring

moons

trapping the night

perpetually

pitch fierce ambivalence

ambient non-horizons

evading

my skin

a cold so deep

that the world itself

could never move

the snow only hovering

about the me

who felt nothing

 

who kept moving

in a world held

enthralled within

space and time

but even as I moved

I was still a captive

to my own world

I held bound

with...

I cannot remember

 

how did I know the chill

was it

those flaking tears

my unrelenting fears

held in a moment

of enigma

even the part of me

which could feel

had frozen over

 

I was grateful

 

wandering alone

without direction

there is nothing you

can ever do

wrong

 

or so I thought

 

until I met you

another dream

a chance collision

of worlds unmoving

how does that happen

 

perhaps our captors

time and space

brought us together

to tear us apart

 

I felt in my frozen core

that with you

there could be warmth

but with each gaze

towards you

I forgot your face

as if I was wandering

with a void

no longer alone

with that part of me

never remembered

always forgotten

so perhaps I was alone

I cannot remember

but there was desire

for once

never lose this

never submit

to bounds

believe

that there is something

transcending

space and time

yourself

but I was just a man

as you succumbed to

worlds frozen in time

leaving more than

just a vacuum

inside me

I screamed

pain

grief

hatred

for this cruel

tundra

astral field

 

as if to mock me

the snow in

stasis

above

dropped from

its outer sphere

and stifled my screams

under a chrysalis of

tears

which had been

held back

since the beginning

 

I understood

that even I felt cold

as it crushed me

weeping

taunting

you will always be alone

 

but I couldn’t let go

to heed those words

perhaps in another

dream

another life

less cruel

so I clung to that memory

as I sunk within

never to awaken

but to dream again

Reviews

[SpeedyHobbit Armstrong]

This was such an interesting poem to read. I caught hope, ambition, despair, fear and resignation all mixed together in one captivating poem. Beautiful imagery. This had a slight prosaic element to it, which in my case is a good thing- an overload of figurative language sends my overtaxed attention span fleeing for the hills.

As always, well done

[Nusquam Esse]

Sorry for the late reply, was gone on a hiatus due to hectic time of the year. I am glad that you enjoyed this one; it was part of an experiment in forming stream-of-consciousness free-verse poetry/prose hybrids.. thus the prosaic element. :) I was admittedly surprised at how these various pieces ended up balancing out. Thanks for reading.

[Alisa Js]

This one captures the essence of dreams, perhaps more specifically, a lucid dream as clearly the persona is aware that he is dreaming.

If it is true that the subconscious records everything and in our dreams we visit those records, then where does the unconscious come in? ... as we have access to that realm as well.

Interesting questions to ponder on a mystical night, indeed.

Alisa ;-)

[Kuandio]

This is so different from your other stuff. The language and flow is real nice. At moments I felt uncertain about the meaning, but overall, I got a very familiar sense from it, as if what you are expressing are waves of thought similar to what I also go through on an almost daily basis, as well as in dreams maybe. That's quite a feat, to write something on the one hand very abstract, but able to connect to the reader in a powerful way. Unfortunately there is a hopelessness that pervades it, but that is what needs to be expressed perhaps.
The nicest line - "Until I met you, another dream, a chance collision, of worlds unmoving" and "under a chrysalis of tears"

[Nusquam Esse]

Sorry, somehow missed this! Thanks for reading this one. I love surrealism, the idea that words can convey a feeling and impression which exists beyond just the words... and as the words flow, the mind wanders as if trapped in a dream. It has always appealed to me, so it was a theme I went for in my attempt to do some 'stream of consciousness' writing. And I agree, those lines were some of my favourites as well!

[Elwyn]

Speechless. Not only is your imagery spot on and delightful in all the right ways, but the raw power and surrealism of your words... well, I have no words for it. One of my favorite lines is "whipping snow/ like frozen tears". But to be destroyed by love, I think, is the best way to ever be pulled apart. Because the warmth was nice, if only for awhile, even though it seems so much colder now. And I loved the line "until I met you /another dream/a chance collision" a dream, as in this person was elusive and not to be kept but oh so sweet... I adore this write and you have an incredible talent. Blown away.

[Nusquam Esse]

I am glad that you enjoyed this one; I was just trying to write freely, and I have always been a fan of surrealism. So I just sat down, put an image and emotion into mind, and just wrote the words as they came to mind without any planning. And yes, I agree with your conclusions, love is probably the best way you can be destroyed... because at least it is personal. I am glad that this amateur attempt at free-verse poetry/prose could move you in the way that it does; honestly, this is a lot like my natural thoughts, the way that words flow in my head when I look at something.

[Elwyn]

Keep writing down your thoughts, my friend, and I will devour them as soon as they leave your pen! I would describe this poem as anything but amateur!

[Nusquam Esse]

hah, well thank you much! I liked this concept enough to give it a separate 'book' from the rest of my poetry; I intend to do several more of these, probably around twenty of them or so. Then perhaps release it as an anthology. Or at least that is the goal! If nothing else, just writing what comes to mind as you imagine a dream seems to come naturally to me, so it is much simpler than most writing.

[Rene Salinas]

Oh aren't I happy to have stumbled upon this? As you have let us know that free form was not coming any time soon, this hidden but I found and now that I a here I jump and submerge in it becuase although the scene is oh, so cold gelid and icy it seems to be held fluidity of maybe it is there but is it? As the emphasis on questioning shakes me every so often. The other thing which has helped me to navigate through is he fact that the union upon conceptual life and your emotions are held in balance so it does not get to cold to crystalize or too warm to evaporate. Please do not make a loud sound, then everyhing being but a dream.

And there is still one more chapter to indulge!

Thankyou

[Jennie Baron]

Powerfully beautiful and moving. I'm always astounded by your gift for word-craft but this is particularly good. On subsequent readings it keeps revealing new layers. I'm saving this in my favorites. It may be stream-of-consciousness musing but sometimes that's where the most magnificent poetry comes from.

[Nusquam Esse]

I got the general idea from a Japanese author I particularly enjoy named Natsume Soseki, he has a series of short stories called "10 nights of dreams" or something like that... I was fascinated with it when I read it, so much self-loathing, guilt, and regret within his words. So, in an attempt to be less stiff in writing, I decided that I wanted to delve into surrealism, in a poetic/prose way. Just wrote these without really planning the direction they were going, I just imagined an image and wrote the words that came to mind as I went. So this is probably the closest I have posted to my thought processes and how I think (although it isn't always so tragic) I am planning on writing more of these, not sure how many, but dreams seem endless in their potential and possibilities! Thanks as always for reading Jennie; I always value your impressions and comments.

[Jennie Baron]

My pleasure. The insight into your creative process is interesting, tool.

[Einstein Noodle]

damn snow ..its here sooner than expected :) i felt it on my face .. could not quite internalize completely frozen .. but almost .. the sky like the borialis without color .. locked in .. deep pain .. screaming .. lots of stuff escaping in your spontaneous write .. i like this one a bit better than the Final Night ..seems to read a little more smoothly for me ..
E.

[Nusquam Esse]

Glad you enjoyed it; seems that some prefer the other one, but with you liking this one more, I have a bit more confidence that I might be able to do more nights of dreams. Each easier to relate to for someone than others.

[Ashira Macy]

Sounds like a real nightmare to me, and yet it fuels the artist within you.

as if to mock me
the snow in
stasis
above
dropped from
its outer sphere
and stifled my screams
under a chrysalis of
tears
which had been
held back
since the beginning

There were a lot of really fantastic lines in this poem, but the description and unique use of word shaping in this stanza called out to me. You are definitely gifted with incredible imagery, keep up the amazing painting that you do, this was a great read.

[Nusquam Esse]

It wasn't an actual dream; I just love surrealism, and wanted to craft something that would feel like one. It was a challenge from someone who told me that I thought too much about what I wrote; so this dream sequence stuff is me just writing words as they enter my head. Glad it had an effect; I will be certain to return the favour.

[Ashira Macy]

It certainly did have that effect. I don't dream, so I find dream poems (or surreal poems) very interesting. Like seeing into another person's mind. I am a big fan of Elisa because she mostly writes in dream form. =)

[Kenneth The Poet]

This is like an internal monologue occurring in a blizzard. Like a major transition occurred without your permission, and it left you cold and comfortable or not. You have written a powerful work and I felt the chill in my bones.

[Nusquam Esse]

Thanks for reading this over; I am glad that it gave you that impression--since that was my goal in the first place. I am excited to see where else I can take this theme.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

i screamed for the emptiness...

this reminds me of "Ars Poetica" and the line..."for all the history of grief, an empty doorway or a maple leaf"

the empty doorway...as if someone who had been there is gone...or that it has always been empty...the speaker in this poem feels a great grief...either for someone who used to be in his life...and now is just in his dreams....gone in some way...leaving him to his solitude...which is very very cold.

[Nusquam Esse]

Thanks as always for your impressions Jacob; I always enjoy reading them. Honestly, I don't know much about poetry--you have much more experience with the subject. I never really moved beyond Pope, Dante, and Neruda.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

the way you write poetry, and your insightful reviews would indicate otherwise---

[Nusquam Esse]

That is mostly because I did some research onto form, and how things like meter work. I tend to pick things up fast. So from there I started looking at the poems on here, trying to understand how they flowed (beyond mere syllables), how rhyme could be used tactfully (a lot of people force them), and the way words could be used. I am still learning myself; I just approach it more critically than many on here, and am actively trying to learn... so I appear more experienced than I am. The famous poets I have read more than just a few lines from are only those three above (as far as I can remember)... oh and of course Shakespeare and Marlowe. Maybe I just have an aptitude for it in general.