In Read Write Poem prompt #100, Bruce Covey invites us to play with our dreams. Visit the site for complete instructions on this one.
In the Quad
Three women meet
beneath the yellow leaf-light
of an autumn campus.
There may or may not be a fountain,
water dribbling from its tip;
it may or may not be important.
Their destination is numerical,
symbolic. 35.11º N 106.64º W.
Their destination is molecular,
precisely C12H22O11,
and biological, Populus wislizeni.
The women move at 3 mph.
A familiar drama unfolds
in the Palace of Reason.
From which character
do you draw strength?
Which one devours you?
Quills sprout from my fingers.
I rub them out, and more emerge.
With feathered hands, I move on.
Like great poetry, this dreamscape is strangely familiar, making the familiar strange. Like most dreams, this poem both orients and disorients us with a combination of certainties (precise coordinates for location, time, etc.) and of unknowns (questions, who are the women?). Also, like dreams, a combination of real (this campus probably does exist somewhere) and surreal (quills from fingers). Some of these images seem to be profound archetypical symbols: quad, fountain, etc. The ending is unforgettable — what better ending for a writer, than to have more quills sprout, move on to more dreams and poems? This is beautiful.
you do know that googling the co-ordinates brings a link to this poem. I never did well on those essay questions–they always seemed to want the wrong answer.
love the feathered hands
A very good example of a nonsensical dream, the image of the quills sprouting..fascinating! (making your won attached writing instrument’s perhaps?)
How I have such nonsensical dreams!
skin dreams
Hi Tamra,
Intriguing dream! I love “the yellow leaf-light
of an autumn campus”.
I love the way your scenario is grounded in hard, scientific location, chemical, and plant yet, somehow is more dreamlike for the specificity of the image rather than less so. Nicely achieved, Tamra.
I love how the stanzas really divide this up into separate realms that are wonderfully dissociated from each other and yet strangely linked (just like the fragments of a dream). The second stanza is so precise in sundry, irrelevant ways, and the last a neat shift back to the first person point of view. The first sets things up in certain and then uncertain terms, and the third questions the reader. The title is consistent with this grouping of four.
I am interested to know if they are eagle feathers or feathers from some other bird who is not a predator? The eagle is a predator of the porcupine. This poem has a very First Nations feel to it. Yellow being the color of the rising sun, or a new beginning. This has been an adventurous dream poem, Tamra. I enjoyed reading it. Thanks.
nicely done…..thanks for sharing this dream poem
Reasons have their moments, their days, and we do engage. Of course, yes, they’ve their place and need, however the greater whole is something more. This poem has a lovely orchestration of this greater process to show.
“There may or may not be a fountain,…
“it may or may not be important.” A small light touch, yet by simplicity, opens a door.
And those thoughtful clues are a wonderful chase!
Thank you for sharing this poem.