The Lynx

A dream I had...

I’m standing on a glorified raft.

Call it my deck.

The house on the dune sinks into the caramel hill and

Rotates instead of the earth, like one of those

Spinney restaurants, so inland mountains swallow us up.

 

The roof used to be yellow, but now it’s grey.

The walls have shingles and there’s a plank in the deck that’s

Gen Z, where I dropped a rock in ’98 or so.

A cat circles, and another, one orange and one spotted.

 

The house wrenches out of itself in a scraping anchor’s bellow, a clock

Folding in on itself,

Seasons tearing, fast-forwarding like

Decaying fox footage on a VHS and locking me in

Bay-less irons.

The driftwood begins to rot and shift and slip, the bulging ginger Buddha-cat claws 

and flails like plastic cheddar off a toddler’s kitchen

And I dive to frame him on the rocky dune like an

Underthrown pass on AstroTurf.

He’s limp, but time creeps backwards now, and

‘I’ll build this house again for you, Mom’, I tell her.

The spotted leopard cat hides.

 

The stars on the deck emulsify in an Australian barbeque nebula,

A lion’s warning breath, a bio-toxin peppered wind.

Red orbs loom; staggered, undead Orion of

Setting suns. Then the

Foam and intergalactic fog fade in a kaleidoscope’s curtain call, right as

The spotted leopard cat slinks under the deck,

Pelt bristling into a mane in waves that’s purer than that nighttime season. Divine

And distant.

The house shifts and the entire bay folds away like an eclipse.

 

I

Can’t see the sky anymore,

I run counter to the ancient ruin, which

Shimmers like a catalogue in Roman moonlight.

I come out on the other side, and

It’s a whole new view of Lynx and Leo.

The leopard cat approaches.

 

At his feet rests a piece of rock, a

A limestone eraser. 

On it a grasshopper spits a seed, drawn over and over like in a

Flipbook cartoon.

He looks me in the eye and bows his head. He breathes.

It’s too easy.

Then it crumbles, and it’s what I needed, and I know

He’s written there.

 

But then my brother says it’s the nature of the stone to crumble, and the cat

Can’t talk.

Author's Note

My loyalty here is to the dream - not to any style

Reviews

[Bluefire]

It was certainly written like a bizarre dream, it made me think of the stars and space and the sea in a sort of fantasy like world where anything is possible but there is also danger. It was a lot like and adventure and life, promises and brokenness in a forbidden world, for once the dream is over, you don't know if you'll ever get to go back.
A+++

[closed]

very impressive how you take a simple concept and spin it into something marvelous
my literary eye is on you friend



-Dream

[jacob erin-cilberto]

it is surreal, and it is really a good journey...i almost felt like i was tripping on acid...and wondering if was seeing what i was seeing...the house spinning on the dune..and the ruination, slowly of that which we hold most dear...things age like people...and lose their luster...but the memories float free and forever.

I like this poem, more than much, and I shall explain you why in every whirling detail that flies as a wholeness around my head right now. And while I try to summarize my thoughts, I write;

First of all, this is what I call surreal, it's fantasy, it's lucid, it's dreaming, it has reflectations, of your impressions, on something you took for granted, before you could dream it... unconcious maybe, concious who knows, but caught by your interest... I feel here fragments, of "Life of Pi" "scene: The spotted leopard cat slinks under the deck,
Pelt bristling into a mane in waves that’s purer than that nighttime season. Divine
And distant." I feel your romantic soul through your surreal visions, in a world of it's own dripping new colors, to paint, you have that ability, I just know that. Such a rich empathic imagery. (even here, it's not clear how beautiful this dreamworld works), so you succeed to kidnap, your reader (me) into this second world of awareness, solid, vast, but captivating. I loved the alliteration here: " It’s a whole new view of Lynx and Leo.
The leopard cat approaches". How brilliant that is? I have a close bond, to the Lynx. I don't know why I tell you this, but it's a fact. I shall you explain one day why. So that part, hooked me.

I loved it how you end the piece so sober, as how in reality dreams end... and a new day has begun.... fantastic work, here Thaddius, I'm a fan. So don't take that lightly either ;-) perfection, in motion!

- Elisa

[Robbie~xoxo~]

When reading your piece, I felt as if I stepped into a portal, being pulled deeper into a vortex...

I like that you stand true to your dream... it looms from one decade to another..
You give your reader bits and pieces of your ruined world... the stone "crumbling" is vivid, and symbolic to your end....not to leave out the Lynx, which is Spectacular.

Nicely done, Thadius!

~Robbie~xoxo~

[AYVID N]

Very unique visuals created in this write...You were quite successful with the creation of the dream with all the shifting, unpredictable, improbable stuff dreams are made of. That is because I think you like to create different sort of imagery and not the run-of-the mill sort, which is good. This write was much enjoyed yet left a tinge of sadness for a home lost in time, haunting the dream.

[Nereus Matthias]

well this is a beautiful poem..you have painted d perfect picture...the last line was a gem of a phrase...
ceratinly looks like a bizarre dream... :D

[Taylor H.]

I didnt quite understand what you meant by: Rotates instead of the earth, like one of those
Spinney restaurants,
I'm not much of a poet so I don't feel I can give you a very good review. I have dyslexia so metaphor and simile tend to go over my head but you wrote a very good poem here. I felt the whimsical feel you were trying to portray and I enjoyed your wrote choice. Great poem.

[Rossen]

One man's dream becomes another man's adventure... than the ripple effect.
"I
Can’t see the sky anymore,
I run counter to the ancient ruin, which
Shimmers like a catalog in Roman moonlight."

good work nice dreams,

Rossen

[SquinklaPsyOps]

I like the introduction "I’m standing on a glorified raft." then Spaniards discovered America and taught them religion.

[Thaddius]

say whaaaaaaat? Is America the glorified raft, or religion, America's? I admire your incongruity! Wait - you're not trying to convert me on my profile, are you? Haha

[SquinklaPsyOps]

You could believe whatever you want and if it was not for the Queen Of Spain discovering America then the mexican mayas would had capture you and cut your head for sacrifices.