Dream Lessons: #9 – All the gear…

#9

If you talk yourself onto the (social, mixed sex, non competitive) football first team after watching your mate miss a hat-trick of chances, you have to be able to at least get into your kit without difficulty.

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A different light

[for Sammy]

this is not life
this is just existence, just about
hours, days blur by
blurred by grey
feelings, or
their absence
chasm,
into which we’d leap?
no, step back from the void
and turn around

someone is calling your name
from a distant light
running, yelling,
“wait!
don’t go
we love you.”

“why?” you ask,
not rhetorical
demanding an answer
they take your hand
and you see their heart and mind
and those of all your presence has touched

and all of it is love. and all of it is good
they see the same you, but in a different light
a golden one you don’t recognise
but through which you look…
different.
beautiful.
whole.
how can one person feel this way about you,
let alone this army sent to save you,
drag you back from the brink?

“how?” you ask, dumbfounded.
and they take your hand again
and you see times you never knew counted
when a smile, or a word, or
just your presence
helped not one soul
but dozens
and brought warmth into the hearts

you have one last question.
“how did you know?” you ask, trembling
a third time they take your hand
and now place it over their heart,
cold.

“your absence,” they say,
“was keenly felt”

silence
long silence

“What now?” you ask.

“Come back to all of us,” they say,
“and be our light and warmth again.”

You can do nothing but smile, wipe your tears, and agree.

—-

[Happy Friday! Wrote this on a plane just before my flight back to the UK from Luxembourg (it was wonderful, thank you for asking) earlier this week. Enjoy!]

An unbroken beacon

A challenge

A world unexplored but lifeless

No potential

It is not death that stares me down

But the absence of life

No colour

A black and white relic

Hanging high above the horizon

We jolt into action

Spring forward

And fly

And yet

You remain

(It remains, no personality lies dormant)

Staring at the setting sun

Unblinking

Please Send Dragons

Being the creative, whimsical, free-spirited soul that I am (by that I mean easily distracted as well as… [drifts off mid sentence]) I occasionally find myself bored, and then daydreaming, and then wishing for a dragon.

It’s a slippery slope.

I can remember countless times I’ve been sat in a school chapel, sports hall or meeting room, ears under attack from a unending drone on responsibility or rules or the emancipation of the proletariat (I probably should’ve listened to that one), and just thought,

‘Imagine if a dragon smashed its way in here now. That would spice things up.’

It works best when there’s a big window, the destruction of which is overwhelmingly pleasing to visualise. Rose windows in chapels are my favourite – sorry god, but a giant reptilian jaw gonna look so sweet smashing through one of those!

[My inner writing voice is telling me that tips for a great daydream are where this piece is headed (Tip #1, ‘Rose Windows’, I guess?), so…]

#2 ‘Vantage Point’. Pick a window a good distance from you. Unless you’re going to daringly tame and ride the dragon (respect) or slay it nobly (there best be maidens watching, else you’ve just wasted a dragon) you want to be at a safe (out of the way for the first few seconds) distance to chuckle as your fantasy comes true and that classmate/colleague/tennis coach you never really liked gets scooped up in the mighty beast’s jaws. If you’re going into an event with the expectation of being bored, at least the foresight might allow you to pick an optimum daydreaming spot (I always liked some elevation where possible, or a nice corner in an office).

#3 ‘Sly Grin/Wee Nod’. There are two purposes here. The first is to provide an intense feeling of satisfaction and generally ‘being cool’. To achieve this, imagine yourself giving the dragon (and the bodies of your currently-deceasing unliked colleagues) this combination: sly grin (because you’re far enough away to be safe, clever you) and a wee nod (a show of mutual respect between you, virtually a demi-god for being called Skylance, and this mythical beast). You can even do this dual-action in real life, because of the second purpose: feigning interest in whatever’s actually going on. Your boss, examiner, chaplain etc. will be thrilled.

There are, of course, obvious drawbacks to imagining dragons, which is why I will soon post about my excitement for the impending zombie apocalypse, my preferred option.

This seems like enough nonsense for one day (one week in fact, sorry I’ve been so quiet!). Have a great weekend!

P.S. As a little aside, I really admired and respected my school chaplain, who was a great man and to whom I mean no offence, but the subject matter just wasn’t my jam. Plus, rose windows!

Healing

For Binks and Magic, who have great people around them.

*

It stings at first, like antiseptic clearing cuts
burns as scabs will, knitting us together
and aches the ache of muscles pulled apart
with perspiration to come back bigger, stronger
Our hearts must exercise as any other muscle.

Births are painful for a reason
Only from ashes do phoenix rise
Spring follows the bleakest season
and we know pain throughout our lives

The consolation’s simple: equilibrium
Happiness soon to return as you are due your turn
Tears: life grows where they fall in the desert of desolation
and their sparkle catches the eye of a new hope
one with the sense to see all you are worth

We learn to fly by falling
We laugh just as we cry
Rejection stings like healing
to tell us we’ll survive

*

I Have Written A 100 Word Story About A Paradox

[Neither the title nor this gratuitous note count towards the hundred words]

There is sickness in the kingdom; no longer are we a honourable race. The men have grown aggressive, stupid, greedy. The women are vain, lazy and weak. The solution? Remove the men, reform the women. Alex issues the following ultimatum:

“I will kill every man in this kingdom who does not commit suicide before dawn tomorrow – the choice is yours.”

Alex stays up all night, as blood runs through the streets. Reports from the female servants sent out suggest all the men are doing the honourable thing – a welcome change.

Dawn approaches. One choice remains unmade. What must Alex do?