Fever Dreams

Fever Dreams

In the real world,
I am maddened by my
own mind.
In my dreams,
even such as painted
by fever,
logic holds sway
and everything is as it should be
including myself.
The only thing missing is you,
in both my worlds.
You are only found in the
in-between,
and the fever is talking me
into believing you are real,
into believing that we are real,
and this,
this hope might be my final undoing.

–Willow Croft

 

 

 

 

The Alchemy of Time

 

The Alchemy of Time

The hourglass feeds on ghosts

it slows but never sleeps

the selfsame cycle of sand

still ticking away into eternity.

I should be able to

break free

but nothing ever changes

except in dreams.

Which is real?

this static reality

or endless worlds

born from chimera and

fire.

Every night, I escape to

a new unknown

Which would you choose?

I ask, while knowing the answer,

yet, still, entrust my last wish to you,

mystic warrior,

walker of worlds,

and my never-ending ghost.

Please, fracture time

and bring me home.

–Willow Croft

 

Friday Wordlings…

 

I lost quite a few things during my last journey, so I’ve been retracing my steps in hopes of collecting them.

Things have just been…things.

Also, I’m afraid I’ve neglected my muse(s) as of late, but I took them on a blissfully simple summer picnic at the beach.*

I’ve been losing everything. It’s all sliding through cracks in the universe. Momentum. Focus. Dates. Stuff somebody just told me the day before. Or five minutes ago. Time goblins at work, maybe. Or I’ve gotten old in the space of a week.

In addition to the goblins that are taking up most of my brain space, I’ve had little wordlings floating around in my head. They seem significant, but that’s the curse of the creative sort. It seems wonderfully magical, or horribly prosaic. Still, I’ll put them away for safekeeping. Just in case the goblins get hungry.

a forest of ferns

endless, seething thunderstorms

ancient worlds with no humans

essence of summer

second chance to be a kid

Jurassic plants

friendly demons

scientific magic

horse guardians

a rainbow’d unkindness of ravens

*Disclaimer: This is complete fiction. I’m nowhere near a beach. Except in dreamworlds. But I’ll send you a map if you bring the picnic. Or surprise me with a new When.†

†also fiction‡

‡But also possibly real in some other dimension.

 

 

 

 

Mourning a Celebrity Childhood Friend…

 

 

Snooty the manatee has died while in captivity at the South Florida Museum.

I used to go see Snooty as a kid. I always felt sad that he was all alone in his tank at the museum. I used to daydream that I would sneak in afterhours and somehow manage to set him free. It seemed like a stark place to live, and the sounds were disorientating even to my human ears.

As an adult (90s/early 2000s), trying to be more active in animal rights causes, I had mixed feelings about visiting the museum. I had fond memories of the South Florida Museum, but I found it hard to go see Snooty in his lonely little tank.

Around 2012/2013 or so, someone I knew could get me into the museum for free, so I went. I was amazed to see that Snooty was still at the museum. But, this time, he had company. There were two other manatees (they were being rehabilitated, I believe) in the tank with him, so I felt a little better that he wasn’t all by himself.

Then I saw a post on someone’s Facebook page announcing that he had died. I figured old age, not being too knowledgeable on how long manatees lived in captivity.

But then I read the article(s). I’ll let you choose to read them for yourself, just in case you are as sensitive to animals as I am, and maybe have to steel yourself before hearing the news. Or want to avoid it altogether.

https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/morning-mix/wp/2017/07/24/snooty-the-manatee-dies-in-heartbreaking-accident-days-after-his-69th-birthday/?utm_term=.7abad7a7d5ee

http://www.npr.org/sections/thetwo-way/2017/07/23/538900625/snooty-the-manatee-dies-and-a-florida-community-mourns

http://www.bradenton.com/news/local/article163774463.html

I have been in mourning for gentle Snooty over the past week  few days that have felt like a week.

And been thinking a lot.

About the fact that there is less and less room for animals, plants, trees, insects, fish, or any of the other non-human lifeforms that are on this planet as well. Because we humans are taking up so much room. And that, by the time there is no more room for humans on a planet that will become uninhabitable sooner or later, there probably won’t be any non-human lifeforms left.

I read something about micro-living via the National Trust for Historic Preservation. But is it enough? Is anything enough to stop humanity’s destructive drive to fully dominate the planet?

I don’t know. I’m still trying to do everything I can to be more environmentally respectful, as futile as it feels.

I know that I miss Snooty, one of my few (make-believe?) childhood friends. If there is such a thing as reincarnation, I hope he gets to live in a better world, surrounded by freedom and clean ocean water and other manatee friends and family. And I wish the same thing for animals and plants and trees and insects that have to live on the planet with us humans. May better karma be with you in your next life.

…ships and sealing wax…

 

http://www.jabberwocky.com/carroll/walrus.html

I dreamt of my muse last night. That’s not unusual, but the nature of their entrance was not typical. Usually, it’s pretty dream-like…like I know it’s not really happening. That they are a fictionalized construct of that person, and the whole experience will end up in a poem.

Viola De Lesseps: I love you, Will, beyond poetry. —Shakespeare in Love

Last night, though? I didn’t even go looking for my muse, or build a dream around them before I went to sleep.

Bam.

With all the force of a shock wave, they were there. Like lightning went all through me. My dreaming mind didn’t quite know what to do…and I’m used to having really vivid, lucid dreams. Imagine if somehow a flesh-and-blood person showed up in your dream, with no dream filters like magic and wishful-thinking scenarios or even surreal situations. And yet there was still magic surrounding my muse in their black-and-white (?) t-shirt and black jeans and looking a bit annoyed with having to punch their way into my dream. Sort of like a psychedelic swirling of rainbow colours behind them.

It was definitely one of the more interesting dream voyages I’ve had. So far, I haven’t found a poem to put that experience in, yet. Because it felt too real. And, yet, still wonderful.

So I wasted time channeled that perplexing dream into creating a new Pinterest board to display some of my sources of inspiration for my poems. Poetic Muse-ings

What sort of things serve as muses in your worlds?

William Shakespeare: My muse, as always, is Aphrodite.
Philip Henslowe: Aphrodite Baggett, who does it behind the Dog and Crumpet?
Shakespeare in Love

 

 

Tuesday Interlude…

 

A bit late, but that’s the loveliness of time travel…or my creative wishful thinking.

I stopped over in this dimension to enjoy a rare social outing with Santa Fe Gamers at Rowley Farmhouse Ales.

Engaging board games, the even rarer lightning spectacle, and a first-time tasting of Zia Piñon Kola.

I carried with me a feeling of serendipity, aka synchronicity, to the board games meet-up. I had an inkling that, somewhere, my ghost muse was gaming as well. Just imagination, says my practical side…

The problem with inter-dimensional travel…

…is that there’s not always reliable internet access.

I’m still reading, bloggers, just not able to interact as much, until the internet issues get resolved. By Saturday, I should be on a internet-friendly planet.

Apologies to all, if I miss one of your amazing posts.

Happy journeying!