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Odin Roark

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· It's Only Fair...Really

· Socrates Furiously Sleep...Still

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· Destiny's Nemesis

· Listening For the Light

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  Dreams Forever Awake
by Odin Roark
Sunday, April 15, 2012
Rated "PG" by the Author.

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Recent poems by Odin Roark
•  It's Only Fair...Really
•  Socrates Furiously Sleep...Still
•  Mystic Fly Casting
•  Tears Ever of War
•  Boundaries
           >> View all 1,008


There are dreams, and there are dreams.


Dreams Forever Awake

 

A father dreams of getting it right

finally

succumbs to sweat drenched nightmares

 

Somewhere

he stumbles about

to clear the room

guitar

videogames

posters

 

Broad stairs to the garage

once of stable hardwood

now rickety rotted support

creaking of memories crushed

once plush carpet soft with warmth

now but cold cinders beneath his feet

 

Sensory deprivation smiles

releases starving glimpses of love

once bathed by generous moonlight

spilling from window

to banister

to door

to now barren concrete

 

Here

children’s eyes once visualized

what freedom’s wheels would be like

 

The father wanders outside

stares blankly on the gray-white night

reflecting off algae encrusted pool

now with but deflated basketball

adrift

 

Through surrounding weeds and shrubs

GI Joe action figures shimmer their loneliness as well

staring like him at the pool’s granite carved beachhead

imagination’s vast ocean of backyard fantasy

now quiet

make-believe war

since reduced to the calm of real battles lost

jungle rot’s toxic fumes

saturating all

 

no prisoners taken

 

history

 

The scuffling of his slippers

rake the humid night’s heaviness

like sandpaper dragging across

memory’s fine threaded tapestry

 

Lying down among the overgrowth

he peers through broken limbs

crumbling leaves

moon

water

house

 

Eyes squeezed shut deliver regret’s creative gallery

a lifetime installation

perhaps never meant to be walked through

yet…

 

Such are musings

sometimes destined

to be but nightmares

 

while

dreams remain forever awake

in the heart




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Reviewed by Kate Burnside 4/16/2012
Whether this is an actual retrospective or an internal one, the comparison between the present and past as represented by the delapidated house is a very poignant image, contrasting our (failed) hopes and aspirations with a colder, lost reality. Time is no respecter of our intentions and his stark judgements are cruel. If the figure of the war-tormented veteran is a real character, it's an even more poignant juxtapose with the tumble-down house: a picture of what life has done to him and his cherished family dreams. I very much like the glimmer of hope this work ends with: a picture of resiliance and strength, but also of tenderness - which is touching in such an "old soldier". xx
Reviewed by Jerry Bolton 4/16/2012
Taking a sad,sad trip through his life, whether in dream or whether in reality is sobering and hits you in the face so hard you are at a loss at what to do. Mostly, you just stand there, head bowed and shaking.
Reviewed by John Flanagan 4/15/2012
no longer the house beautiful or
the dream possible...was it,
is it ever worth dreaming that much
or is it quantifiable at all?...we need
our illusions

use of 'action figures' poignant, ironic
and 'beachhead' is just fantastic

for me, Odin, this is a keeper

john

Books by
Odin Roark



ECHOSIS

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Perceptions





Prosetry at Work

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Said and Unsaid - Vol 1

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3 WAY MIRROR

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