smudged thumb print on the second last petal

imprint of a feeling that hungered

snap back with the stinging as the red shows

a wounded flower so pretty in its pose

still pretty with only one hope left

clinging to the base of its blossom with cloying grandeur

at least it thinks

at least it continues to define the whole

apart from the stem

the others sigh green

why always this one

always the last one born

so pretty can’t you see

its edges catch reflecting raindrops

with swirling smiles from the sun


and stars

it could command the galaxies this one

leaving four fingered prints on their lenses

making them so giddy they’d spill their soil

exposing all routes

there would be truth in that

a way at the very least

to make its detachment




Bleeding Nightmares

I really hate nightmares. I guess by their very definition they are
not supposed to be likeable. According to the Free Dictionary Online a
nightmare can be defined as 1) a dream arousing feelings of intense fear,
horror and distress; 2) an event or experience that is intensely distressing;
and 3) a demon or spirit once thought to plague sleeping people.

To the first definition I would add ‘confusion’ and while I am at it
I would also add ‘often characterised by physical effects such as increased
heart rate, profuse sweating and deep seated nausea.’ To the second definition
I would add the words ‘unfortunate’ and ‘inconvenient’ anywhere in the
definition because these two things almost always accompany any good
nightmarish situation. Then to the third definition I would add to the end ‘or
a person who has the ability to achieve the same fetes as a demon or spirit in
another’s life.’

The dream I had last night seemed to have aspects of all three of
these definitions wrapped up grotesquely into one to create what it is that I
experienced. I dreamt that I was expecting my ex girlfriend’s baby and I was
over the moon about it. I remember the dream from the part where I was cleaning
out the outside room at my mother’s place in anticipation of my ex and the baby
coming home. I cleaned the room thoroughly decorating it with all sorts of baby
things and practically dancing and whistling away in absolute bliss.

Then at some stage my mother grabbed me and told me that she needed
to discuss something important with me. She then told me that perhaps I needed
to think things over since there were things about this “pregnancy” that just
didn’t add up. Firstly, according to her knowledge the baby was only due in two
months and secondly, she doesn’t remember seeing my ex actually pregnant. It
was at that stage that the facade of understanding came crashing down. I too
suddenly realised that actually I hadn’t seen my ex pregnant and all I
remembered was her saying she is off to the hospital to go fetch the baby –
FETCH the damn baby!?!!

Of course in the dream I took my anger out on my mother and then in
true suicidal fashion, on myself as well. The rest of the dream was just pure and raw anger,
confusion and fear. I felt absolute frustration at the fact that nothing in the
dream actually made any sense or had anything to do with where I am in my life.
The setting was all wrong, in a home I didn’t recognise, the people were
behaving uncharacteristically and the feelings I felt were very much out of
character for me and where I am in my life.

Or were they? I am inclined to fathom that my anger and frustration
at the end of the dream and especially when I woke up were because of the fact
that it seemed like something had penetrated deep into the part of my
subconscious riddled with fear and unexpressed desires. The most infuriating
part was the fact that I was so giddy about having a baby with my ex whom I
worked really hard to get over and the fact that she dooped me into believing
she is pregnant smacked of dynamics that kept me under her fist when we were
still dating in reality.

If anything this dream has stirred feelings that shouldn’t be there
like the rotten leaves and junk at the bottom of a shallow pond. Ghosts of the
past have been given an audience, if only I am the seer, the viewer, the judge
and the convicted. What I do not understand is why has my subconscious has gone
through such an effort to create an elaborate dreamscape just to make me see a
truth that I no longer see as truth. I no longer love my ex in that way and
know that I would never have her baby. So why then has my subconscious suddenly
turned against me in an insane act of cannibalism?

One of the things one has to grapple with after a nightmare is trying to figure out where
it come from and why  it occured. According to Wikipedia, nightmares can have physical causes such as sleeping in
an uncomfortable or awkward position, having a fever, or psychological causes
such as stress and anxiety. Eating before going to sleep, which triggers an
increase in the body’s metabolism and brain activity, is a potential stimulus for

If I had to choose one of the above mentioned reasons for me I
would go for sleeping in a bad position since my sleep hasn’t been the greatest
over the past two days. As for a fever, stress, anxiety and bad eating habits,
well, I am pretty sure it isn’t one of these since I am on holiday and in a
very good place of internal well being.

Whatever the cause is I am left somewhat baffled and peeved off actually. I
feel exposed by my own internal workings, as if there is nowhere to hide and
nowhere especially to hide thoughts, feelings and desires that I do not wish to
be discovered. It is especially true that I certainly cannot hide these things
from myself or even lie to myself. Maybe bad dreams are all about our
subconscious reminding our conscious that it doesn’t know everything and it is
certainly not in charge of everything. Maybe this nightmare was exactly what it
was, a really good wake up call. Well subconscious, you definitely have all my attention

Daydreaming Into Non-Existence

Sometimes I get these
rare moments that come like a flash and I dwell in them in what seems like
suspended animation almost as if time is standing still before the moment
passes completely and I am returned to the present. During these moments it
seems like there is a series of events, a passing of time as if I am seeing the
beginning, middle and end of a possible outcome of my life. I hear the
background noises and conversations and see the scenes played out like clips
from a movie. Even before I realise what is happening I am caught in the drama
of it and seeing the conclusion just as I awaken from it back into this world,
this life and this moment.

I only realise that I
am back in this moment because everything suddenly becomes amplified: sounds
become louder, colours more vivid, and my awareness is given a jolt as I
register where I am and who I am. My mind works fast and my thoughts slip and
flash through my mind like keyed up electric eels darting through the darkness
of an abyss relaying almost undetectable messages. It is no wonder then that I
find myself caught in these journeys of the imagination with such ease and

At times I am
disappointed to realise that where I was and what I was thinking was just a
figment of my own imagination. At these times I try hard to warp back into that
time and place where I was only a few moments ago but as the memory of the
place fades away so does the path and knowledge of how to return there. It
seems like the harder I try think about it the faster the leads disappear
shutting the portal to that world, that place, those alternate possibilities.
Then of course there are times that I am more than relieved to realise that my
mind was just wondering and what I just perceived was not in fact reality, no
matter how real it may have seemed.

But the truth is
whether it was real or not I still experienced the emotions attached to the
experiences and this is where I start to get confused. If my mind can leave
where I am right now and go someplace else where things are so tangible that I
am convinced or confused about reality – so much so that it evokes an emotional
response – then surely it must be considered some sort of real? Real is as the
mind perceives and as the body responds and that is as unique to each
individual mind as perception itself, like the fingerprints of the
consciousness must be reality.

What separates these
moments from what is generally perceived as reality for the masses is that no
other individual experiences it with me and without general consensus on the
guidelines and capacities of reality then reality isn’t reality. It takes two –
or more likely many more – to agree on reality and set the standards and
boundaries of what is life and how it is to be understood. That which you
experience on your own is not considered true reality and is best kept to
yourself lest you be labelled insane or living outside the boundaries of
reality in the realm of the unreal.

It is of course in the
realm of the unreal that our cold shivering selves exist like unseen frost
bitten fruits that dangle from bare trees in a perpetual winter climate. That
part of ourselves that is often denied an audience due to the critical eye of
society, that part that knows that what it experiences is more than delusion
but is has no voice to say that like a child who is to be seen and not heard.
This part of ourselves is forced to deny its own reality and accept the
insanity and banality of an accepted collective reality.

But this part of us
cannot always be denied no matter what may happen in this world because no
matter how unified we become, no matter how much we find an agreed reality, and
no matter how much we may define reality so that we may live a constructive
life, each individual experiences life in a vacuum where perception is
everything and the view of that perception is ultimately one sided. Nobody
hears all the thoughts of another and not everybody – if anybody – communicates
everything that they are thinking.

Therefore it is safe to
say that to some extent we are all alone and aware of the divide between
ourselves and other human beings. At this point imagination becomes a human
being’s best friend and that’s why it should never be totally sacrificed for
the sake of living in an agreed upon reality…