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Odin odin@aflx.com

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Books
· Perceptions

· ECHOSIS

· Prosetry at Work

· Said and Unsaid - Vol 1

· 3 WAY MIRROR


Short Stories
· Patience Waning

· Ladle Lines (A prosetry memory)

· A Gentle Man

· Pacing Love's Journey

· Gratitude

· A Sticky Conversation

· Blazing Now and Then

· Vulnerable Captivity

· The Kite That Would Not Bow

· Time


Articles
· War and Peace

· Desperation Breeds Desperation

· Preference Manifest

· Innocent Guilt

· Barbed Isolation

· A Place...

· Sanity's Loss

· Organs Anonymous

· Fatuous Beyond Absurdity

· Truth is One


Poetry
· The Life-long Pernicious Evil

· Cherishing Sounds of Silence

· Understanding the Unexplainable

· Reality of Another Kind

· Finding Trust Again

· Aromalicious Memories

· A Jungle-rain Pastorale

· Sediment Within the Soul

· Life's Enormous Green Chest

· Roadkill Memoriam

         More poetry...

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by Odin odin@aflx.com


   
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Dreamscape Snapshots

by Odin odin@aflx.com — Read all 3,869 poems by Odin odin@aflx.com

A prosody look at the elusive meaning of dreams, that tricky escape artist capable of revealing much of itself. (photo by panoramio.com)

Sunday, March 2, 2014


Poem Artwork
Dreamscape Snapshots
by Odin Roark

Sparks of light
Gain attention
Clicks obey

Swirling dust
Tumbleweeds in vortex
Ghost town hotel
Single window lit
Stealth conscience stares in
Eyes diaper clad tot

Click

Innocent child stands atop sink
Bathroom reflects the world
Echoes revealing beyond
Bringing tomorrow-town’s dreams
City a glitter

Click

Mirror becomes door
Boy crosses threshold
Swirling dust now gold
Morphs in Equus
Carrying boy into manhood

Click

Ferrari speeds toward skyline
Vertical Dubai looms up
Robed people splat windshield
Gilded buildings crumble
Steel to rock
Rock to dirt
Dirt to dust

Click

Ghost town hotel
Lit window dark
Man’s shadow at sill
Peering down
Swirling dust at rest
Street empty
Tumbleweeds gone
Storm on horizon

Click

Empty room
Mirrored walls
Blinding reflections
Foresight

Click

Cocoon’s butterfly emerges
A winged touch
Deliverance

Clickkkkkkkkkkkkkk
Ringgggggggggggg

Familiar breath
Familiar warmth
Familiar love

Don
You’ve got an 8 o’clock
Your breakfast meeting?
The promotion?

  


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Reviewed by Michael True
Reviewed on March 6, 2014
And two feet hit the floor once more... M.True

Reviewed by Ronald Hull
Reviewed on March 3, 2014
Those sure are some weird dreamscapes. Sure glad I don't have those. On the other hand, you seem comfy in them. The only thing that splattered on my windshield was a blackbird one day on Interstate 80 leaving Salt Lake City. Had to stop somewhere at a gas station and have the attendant scrape the bloody mess off the windshield. A towel head would be a whole lot bigger mess! that would be quite an undertaking (I'm talking about the undertaker's bill). ;-)

Ron

Reviewed by Diana Legun (Reader)
Reviewed on March 3, 2014
This poem contains chill - of temperature and cognition. We usually begin with taking in the visual image chosen, and this one enhances the already shivering lines here; their abstract distortion builds line by line and by the time the "Robed people spat windsheild" the hairs on my arms are standing up and paying attention. Riveting in its bazaarness -- a rich and rewarding read. ~~ Diana (A little side note to anyone reading comments: images that you wish to view more closely can be dragged to your desktop and zoomed from there when opened. I wanted to look at this splendidly spookable building in detail.)

Reviewed by Mr. Ed
Reviewed on March 3, 2014
Another interesting and thought provoking piece. And I love wandering around old ghost towns. Your graphic reminds me of a place that I've been to, imagining ghostly images in its windows and what their lives were like.

Reviewed by m j hollingshead
Reviewed on March 3, 2014
well done

Reviewed by Budd Nelson
Reviewed on March 3, 2014
this is a wonderful write Odin
budd

Reviewed by Jerry Bolton
Reviewed on March 2, 2014
Sigh . . . Life. Life and its pitfalls and detours and love, hate, but best of all the ability to breathe, the ability to find the pain in that four-letter word.


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