Thursday, January 17, 2013

On dreams

               I Dreamed.

I dreamed a dream and in that dream,
I dreamed that I had dreamed a dream
Of hope and fairytales come true,

I dreamed a dream and thought of truth,
I dreamed a dream of life and love,
Of fate and angels and God above

I dreamed a dream of good wishes and friends,
I dreamed a dream I dreaded to end

But then I woke into my dream,
I dreamed I woke in a world obscene
I dreamed a dream of violence and hate
And once again I dreamed of fate

I dreamed a dream of terror and fear
I dreamed that each word went unheard
And so children never spoke a word

I dreamed a dream of demons and beasts
I dreamed a dream that ended at last

I woke in my bed and wondered if
I dreamed a dream of dreams or if
I dreamed a dream of truth that night
And if so I wondered which was truth
And which was merely a dream.

I dream many weird things, as do we all.

Last night I dreamed that my oldest boy hit the in winning three runs in the World Series (baseball) on the same day that my younger son played for BC Lions in the final playoff for the Grey Cup (football).  I was so incredibly proud of them both but when I couldn't find their names in the Vancouver Province newspaper while sitting on a school bus with their old bus driver, Rick, trying to count out $1.00 for the fare because on Fridays the fare was higher and keeping on loosing count I began to wonder if it was just a dream that it had happened and while picking up three pairs of striped mittens off the floor for the lady sitting next me me with her two kids I noticed that the papers I were looking at were all soggy and that was why I couldn't read their names.

Fastforward to the dinner table, where I had made vanilla pudding for dessert and wouldn't let the little girl have any unless she ate all of her sausages laid out in front of her in a row and I didn't have enough pudding out of a 4-serving package to divide into 8 bowls and the strawberry sauce was mostly water which was not good enough for my sons who were heroes even though nobody had heard about it except for the people at the sports store who tried to sell me a suit for Gerry for funerals and weddings because the father of such now famous sons had to look good, a suit with blue jeans and long fuzzy red suspenders that hung down under the jacket.

Gerry didn't want the suit and instead wanted 24.00 which I didn't want to give him unless he told me what it was for and he was choking me over my mom's living room chair to give it to him and finally said he needed it for lottery tickets and if I didn't laugh at him every time he bought them he would have no problem telling me what the money was for, it's not as if he was using it for strawberry syrup!  And if he wanted to drive the kids down to the end of the road to catch the bus it was really none of my business and if I really wanted to go to Grade 15 I could take the bus with them but I would have to do all of my homework and not be afraid to go into the elevator at the hotel.

Any dream interpreters care to take a shot at that?????



6 comments:

  1. I very rarely remember my dreams. You make me wish I did.

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  2. You are a budding author! Such colorful, exciting dreams.

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  3. The only part that made any sense of course was not letting the little girl have any pudding, 'cause after all "How can you have any pudding if you don't eat your meat !" (Pink Floyd)

    Ha ha. I have those frustrating kind of dreams too where you're trying to read something and you just can't. And some nights it seems like I've been to the movies all night too.

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  4. I have lots of crazy dreams like that – usually in the early mornings and I can remember them for a couple of hours. I researched this and the book gave a couple of reasons for crazy dreams: 1) you had too many covers and your body temperature went up 2) you ate dinner too late the night before 3) the food did not digest well. All this does not sound too romantic. But then I also think that you can get dreams that give you a hint about the future. When I was a teenager I dreamed the name of a horse and that he would win. I told my dad. He gave me money to bet on the horse. I went to the PMU in Paris and bet the $2 or so on this horse – on “winning” he won and I won then $150 which was a lot of money at the time. I had never heard of that horse and did not know much about horse racing. So – see….

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  5. Joyce, Joyce, Joyce.....so glad I'm back to reading blogs. Would have hated missing this hilarious dream of yours. You're very talented, my up north friend.

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