“Learn to light a candle in the darkest moments of someone’s life. Be the light that helps others see; it is what gives life its deepest significance.” – Roy T. Bennet

Posts tagged ‘dream’

The Dream Last Night

I had a dream I was my brother, Samuel. On my (his) eighteenth birthday, I invited a bunch of people over. For some reason, my dad was this random drunk stranger, and he was asleep.

So all these people snuck into my house, and we had cake and soda and presents. It was pretty normal. But there was this girl (please remember that, although I am a girl, in my dream I was a boy, and so this makes perfect sense). She was beautiful. I fell instantly in love with her, and I wrote her a letter saying so. She rejected me.

But I wouldn’t stop, and I wrote another letter. This time she replied, saying that she loved me, but her dad was in leagues with my “dad” and they wanted to keep us apart.

My “dad” found out about the letters, and so we were both locked up in separate cages, unable to see each other. We had a friend passing letters back and forth between us, so we were able to tell each other how much we were in love.

Then we broke free and ran away to Paris.

Not really, I don’t remember the rest of the dream.

 

Advertisements

Well-Wishers

I’m here for the music

And not for the fear

That creeps up behind

And cuts off the air

Here for believing

In places beyond

Not for the whistle

And blood of a sword

~

A soul can sing

When it’s been freed

And sit above

To watch the march

Of the black dressed women

And the deathbed bearers

And the well-wishers

Sorry for your loss

The well-wishers

Sorry for your loss

~

I’m here for the music

And not for the fear

That creeps up behind

And cuts off the air

Here for believing

In places beyond

Not for the whistle

And blood of a sword

~

With good things said

Of him that fell

A flower’s dropped

On bended knee

But the dark red rose

Cannot bring back life

For a world as lonely

As could be

A world as lonely

As could be

~

I’m here for the music

And not for the fear

That creeps up behind

And cuts off the air

Here for believing

In places beyond

Not for the whistle

And blood of a sword

~

I’m here for the music

And not for the cry

That wrenches hope

From which is lies

Here for believing

Before the sight

Not for the voices

Of a haunted night

© 2011 singinthebreeze.wordpress.com

Dreamer

I want to be remembered

I don’t want to live in vain

No, I don’t want to be a martyr

I don’t want to be a king

Cuz I want to be remembered

For more than just a dream

I want to stick inside the minds

Of all the people that I meet

And live a good long life

Doing things worthwhile

And changing lives

And moving hearts

And free the chained up souls

And help them all to know

They can let go

Of everything

~

I want to survive

And lead

All the survivors

Following me

I want to stay

And want to be

Something greater than

A gave-up dream

~

I want to be remembered

I don’t want to live in vain

I don’t want to be a martyr

I don’t want to be a king

Cuz I want to be remembered

For more than just a dream

I want to stick inside the minds

Of all the people that I meet

And live a good long live

Doing things worthwhile

And changing lives

And moving hearts

And free the chained up souls

And help them all to know

They can let go

Of everything

 

 

© 2011 singinthebreeze.wordpress.com

My Dream

There was a flood. Or rather; we all woke up to find the city under fifty feet of water. It was crazy. You could see people panicking on top of buildings and floating on top of boards and stuff like that. My family and I headed toward the nearest hotel, carrying all our belongings.
Then somehow I ended up a battleship. Generals and colonels and whatever their ranks are were yelling out orders and someone gave me a pair of emerald-green contact lenses. I thought, cool, thanks, what do I do with ’em? Well, obviously, contact lenses go in your eyes, and so that’s where I put them.
Apparently, I’d been chosen to head a secret mission team. At least, that’s what they called it. We were really supposed to dive under the water and kill the giant squids that were attacking the frightened city. The squids were scared of green eyes, you see.
So I swam around under the boat looking for squids, and I met a dolphin/squid/creature that I became friends with. I forgot her name. We ditched the whole “kill the squids” thing because they were her cousins, and plus, I had no idea what I was doing.
Then suddenly, I was transported to a huge mud pile, and on top of the pile stood a house. The house belonged to some friends I like to call: the Smiths. I was all, hey, whaddup? How ya doin’? Mind you, I still had bright green eyes, and I practically scared them outta their wits.
I walked inside and right away noticed Josh Smith, a kid my age, lying on the couch with a dark purple cast on his arm. The cast was all scaly, like a snake-skin, but that’s beside the point. The point is, Josh was supposed to have a cast on his leg. The doctors messed up and gave him a cast that started at the tips of his fingers and ended up somewhere ’round his armpit. Weird, I know.
Then Timothy Smith, or Timmy, as we so fondly call him, wanted me to follow him somewhere, and so I did. I followed him through this freakishly small tunnel that moved and looked like it was made out of something you’d find in your stomach, and ended up in some crazy lady’s hangout, where she told us scary and “true” stories. The thing was, all of this was in his maze-like attic.
Then I went downstairs (through the tunnel, of course), and ate dinner, and everyone was starin’ at my eyes, and at Josh’s cast, and at Timmy’s beard…don’t ask. I finished my turkey and mashed potatoes under the table, thank you very much. And of course, my dolphin slash squid slash creature friend whose name I can’t remember came back, and we had this family reunion, and it was all good. For a while.
The floodwaters rose and started to collapse the Smith’s house, and everyone started screaming all at the same time. The general, suddenly standing there, said the squids were causing the water to rise and I REALLY needed to get into action here. Soon nothing was left of the house and we were standing on an even bigger mud pile. A humongous metal fence popped up in front of us, or me, since they disappeared. My animal friend told me to wait there and she dove through the mud and went into the water below.
So I waited…and waited…and enjoyed the scenery…and waited. And then dove in after her when I saw bubbles rising. Down there I found all the squids surrounding me. Man, I was scared. Their tentacles were all touching my face and wrapping around my arms. I wanted to scream, but that’s really hard to do underwater. No one would’ve heard me anyway. Then I sneezed.
And kept on sneezing until they gave me a soggy tissue. The water was breathable! I was ecstatic (whatever that means). I swam around and around and had forgotten all about the general’s orders, when a hand grabbed me from above and dragged me out onto the mud again. It was the general, and his face was RED. My punishment, for not followin’ orders, was that I had to paint that huge metal fence. A metal color.
I was done in no time, thinking to myself that the army didn’t know a thing about punishment. Thankfully. And the metal paint made the metal fence super easy to break, and the squids went away. My creature friend died of heartbreak, though. And the flood was no longer.
And I like my green eyes.

 

 

© 2010 singinthebreeze.wordpress.com

Tag Cloud

%d bloggers like this: