"Uncle Syd in Dreamland"
I've been having a load of seriously weird dreams. For example I wasn't even in the dream state yet, and crap started happening. I was just closing my eyes when all hell breaks out I'm seeing opening credits for the nights dreams!
It was all scrambled inside out, and backwards, but there it was.
Then the main feature begins. The sea is rising..rising before my eyes! I'm at my old school I'm carrying kids to a boat. I'm wading in sky blue rising water. There are swells that knock me, and kids over we're under water then up again.
When under btw I hear music I come up just the sound of the rising waves.
Sea planes the sky is full of them, but they makes sounds like birds thousands of birds in song. There are auroras green amber yellow all over the sky. They mix, and swirl from horizon to horizon.
Out to sea all kinds of ships. Giant containers huge aircraft carriers their flight decks crammed with people. Ferries skiffs small rubber rafts all leaving for the open sea.
The dream morphs, and I'm in my childhood home looking for my dog. Yeah my dog not my family my folks all that Hallmark noise. I want my damned dog for Christs sakes.
The dream morphs again, and I'm back at work at the radio station. There's all the usual behind the scenes mayhem that the engineers never I mean 'never' get any credit for solving...fuck'em all to hell. Gawd how I loved, and hated all that!
It was good in some ways since in this particular episode I saw old friends now long departed. It was so good to see them. On awakening I wondered if it was their spirits come to say hello. I like to think so.
What can I say the dreams morphed, and morphed again into my past, and probable futures all mixed, and matched together...dreams do that.
In one New York was on fire from the Battery to the Bronx. The sky the wind the air was full of bright sparks burning amber's. The bridges were alight like blazing trees.
The fire had jumped.
It'd jumped the river, and was igniting Brooklyn thereby starting what I knew would eventually be called the "Great Long Island Fire Storm". I was so cold. It was snowing it was a blizzard. The frozen winds were carrying the fire to the Island.
Then I was looking down from space, and saw the plume of black smoke slowly eating everything in it's path.
Morph.
I saw my father in some kind of hardware shop. He was looking at tools, and taking to someone...don't know who. I didn't call to him. I was just happy to see him so I just "stood?" there watching him.
He was much younger than my last memories of him. He looked like he did when I was little. I wanted to call to him, and tell him I'd grown up, and he had died Johnnie my brother had gone too as had so many relatives.
However something told me he knew all that, and it was okay so I just watched as he got what he came for, and left the shop.
There were several more morphs, but they're all seriously nuts so never mind.
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You ever wonder about the people in your dreams. No not your dog or people you know I mean the 'Others'. You dream, and there are people in it, People that you know, but only in your dreams.
Who are they?
You have complex relationships with a whole cast of characters. Whom on awaking vanish. You forget them or at best have only a vague notion of them.
What happens I wonder. To all those people I mean. Do they go on living their lives in the dream you've awakened from. Not knowing where the world they live I came from.
...or do the cease.
Dreams we now know are brief. Mere seconds or at most a few minutes long. However within this small interval our dream companions have a whole existence. Do they know that their world or worlds are born, and perish by our sleeping, and waking.
In their last subjective thoughts do the realize the truth.
We are the sum of so many forgotten realms. I wonder if our Dream Children as their reality starts to de-pixelize as their world fades. I wonder if their last thought before oblivion is...
"Oh!...I was a Dream.
Then gone.
Till next time.
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I had another of those dreams again. This one was just a flash a momentary one. ...but cool.
Blue Fire!
I was in a place of Blue Gems Blue Fire.
Just for a moment just a flash.
Cool blue light yet it was Burning Burning.
A brief world of Cold Blue Flame.
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"Dreams"
I had another of those dreams. I was walking..so far..I was walking so very very far. My feet hurt I looked down they were bleeding. I left foot prints of blood on grey concrete.
This place was bleak.
All seemed made of the same course grey stone. The road, and the low rise building on either side. Grey cold. I seemed to have companions, but could never quite see them. I was I think homeless wandering. I lived this once before though now it was in a dream-scape.
It was always noon.
No morning no night no evening.
I was near a sea. There were submarines diving just off the coast. so many. It seemed as if squadrons of them were slowly going down one after another.
...and there was singing.
The "Sailor's Hymn"...I could faintly hear it in the sea's distance.
"Eternal Father, strong to save,
Whose arm hath bound the restless wave,
Who bidd'st the mighty ocean deep,
It's own appointed limits keep;
Oh hear us when we cry to Thee,
For those in peril on the Sea!"
And so they dived. All manner of submersibles. WW2 Gato Class subs to today's California, and Montana Class nuclear Boomers.
The sea washed the blood from my feet.
The dream morphed as they do, and I was sweeping the floor of an abandoned building. I was nearly naked. I wore just scraps of rags. I heard a baby crying down the hall. I went opened the door, and saw the child's shadow...just the shadow. The room held a shadow which cried, and cried.
I closed the door, and returned to sweeping.
Another morph, and I was rummaging in a bin for cloths. They were all like the thin rags I was wearing. A person came, and handed me a pair of new jeans.
...and a silver dollar.
She said I could sleep on the roof. She said the birds would "protect" me,..."they protected everybody" here.
And I did sleep on the roof. I slept in the eternal noon of that world. I lay there as swarms of birds danced above.
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"Okay Another Dream"
Interesting huh? I dreamed that the winds were pushing me across seas of frozen gems. I wasn't even stoned.
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"A Dream"
Well once upon a time or at least in this dream I was a kid in a huge tribe of kids. We were dirty ragged all sorts, but we were fast smart keen to get over. We were survivors.
The Dream happens on a sunless world. Night eternal night. The landscape is a beat down city. Perhaps a post war ruin. In this reality we roamed through tumbled down factories malls tunnels. We were always looking to scavenge whatever we could.
You know how in dreams you have friends even close comrades who when you awake vanish from memory. Only to be waiting for you when you sleep again.
This dream was just so.
I loved my tribe. My dream-time cadre of wild eyed filthy survivors. We hunted sang, and slept together. We shared danger, and love. Who could ask for more?
A Mystery.
There were mysteries in this dream world. I remember a bunch of us sitting on a pile of bricks looking up, and watching huge dirigibles. Great sleek floating cities. They were silent as they floated by.
Silent, but burning. They sailed over us one after another like burning clouds. Burning brightly, but not consumed. A mystery.
The dream morphed to danger. We were running all of us in our hundreds. Dragons. We were perused by great T-Rex dragons. Crazed angry one's. I mean weren't none of the smiling!
We dropped telephone poles sharpened at one end on them. This pined some of them to the street. We took to the roofs we flew leap from roof to roof street to window to tree.
We could fly or least do great Spider-man leaps. It was so real I could hear the whistle of the wind in my ears the rush of cold air in my face. All the while being chased by Dragons from Jurassic Hell!
The dream morphed again.
As I leaped from a T-Rex I landed in a kind of tree house, and I was very very old. I was on a world of trees. A forest planet. Like America before civilization ate it or Endor from the Star Wars mythology.
A pale ringed moon was rising on the horizon.
'But this, this dream is another story for another time.
Stay Tuned.
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"A Dream"
( From my 2009 Archives. )
This is what I dreamed last night. I wrote it down as soon as I awoke. Okay I tweaked it a tad so it would scan, but this is basically it.
I was on a journey with my sisters Sylvia, and Kim. The girls were children again. About 12, and eight. I was a young man perhaps 20. We were riding in a fine horse drawn carriage. A lovely affair of the sort that the gentry of the Federalist era used.
We were riding through Brooklyn, our Borough of Churches. However this was a city not built by blind capital, but one wrought by idealists from the Sun King's realm.
So beautiful, such color. A thoughtful, practical lovely city.
In the dream I remember leaning out slightly from the carriage window to see as much of this dream Brooklyn as I could. Everything I saw combined function, and art. Much as the Ancient Chinese did.
My sisters, as I took in the sights, did as I always remembered them doing on long trips.
They giggled, and played mysterious hand games.
Given what grandma was teaching them I assumed they were casting spells. Knowing them they probably were.
Dreams.
My dear sisters, and I were on our way to see a play. A fevered collage of the "Red Shoes", "A Mid-Summer Nights Dream", and something I can't identify. I could make something up, but it wouldn't be true to the dream.
The Tickets.
A whole anxious subplot to this mayhem was my trying to find the tickets. As my sisters sat in their white with hints of silver Jane Austin gowns I quietly poked about my pockets for the damned tickets.
Btw, I'm not a dress designer. So how did I come up with such gorgeous gowns for my sisters. Also, no architect I, so how did I cook up the Sun Kings Brooklyn?
That, and all the endless cute details of this dream,...which if I could I'd post here as a video.
Anyway where the hell does all this come from, and don't start with that collective unconscious stuff. I think something grander than even that may be involved.
Anyway the footman, yeah that guy was there too. The footman opened the door, and my beautiful little sisters climbed down. So off we went ticketless to the dream theatre.
'But oh what a theatre!
It was as wonderful as the Pentagon is grim. Imagine a palace for the arts as designed by Turner, and Walt Whitman. Yeah I could live with that.
We passed under a free floating rotunda whose ceiling was spangled with stars, and misty nebulae,...Turner.
Wait gets better.
My Brother John. My deceased big brother John. John the war hero. John the politician. John the husband, father, and brother. My brother Johnny was standing the entrance of this dream pavilion.
As I said I'm writing this down as soon as I woke up. I need to remember this more than I need to share it with you.
He said nothing. The dead never do in my dreams. But he handed me an envelope. It was my "lost" tickets.
I'll end it here.
The copy goes on as the dream did. The play, my sisters the strange sky. More'n more dream stuff.
Better to end it here.
Stay Tuned.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
"Silent Nightmare"
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