Strange dreams.

Eyelids
to push aside half-moons
a body of stone
lies back;

sweeps
your face,
and bleeds the wind

far off from
lips and gathered blood
when in death, I dreamed nothing

I hide from you all
in white lies, lips
castles of my own words
I will hide from you all
into bedsheets
among the streets
and the statues of pretty women

the moon sees me for what I am
a garden of death
that lied

that feasts beyond midnight veins
and recalls children climbing
on rock roots, twisting backbones
and hips

I can’t unsee
what awaits in memory peeping
from thunders between years of innocence
and youth

of the years with thorns
in my sides, the first to make me squirm
the first woman who dies

as a child.

I eat
the white hot moon
and the fuchsia
blood-eating all man

With snakes crawling in our heads
it will hide in monde
and mind

far off from
lips and gathered blood
when in death, I dreamed nothing.

© 2020 lucysworks.com All Rights Reserved.

Originally published in Free Verse Revolution Lit’s Second Issue: Hermes (the kaleidoscope). My absolute thanks to the editor, Kristiana Reed, for accepting my work in this past issue. Before Free Verse Revolution became FVR Lit, it was one of the first places I submitted my work to after becoming more familiar with the authors and engaging with a few of them on WP. It gave me the push I needed to submit and I am so thrilled that FVR was a home to a few of my pieces, and how a couple other poems were featured in the former Sunday best prompts.

Thank you again, Kristiana. ❤

This piece, in particular, is inspired by my best friend, Gabby. Some notes I had about it include what we discussed about the beauty and effervescence of the night–and I just had to write my feelings/thoughts about it. This was written back in late 2020, and as for most people, it wasn’t an easy year. I was in a deep depression that was hard to come out of, so some lines in this piece reflect that headspace I was in–I think I was more despondent about the past, and how it’s hard to change especially being stuck in place for a long period of time. I struggled a bit then.

Reposted for the 08/19/2021 dVerse OLN. I won’t be able to make the live meeting, unfortunately.



Categories: Poetry, Prose

Tags: , , , , , , , , ,

66 replies

  1. ‘while in death, i dreamed nothing’ love the line

    Liked by 2 people

  2. This piece is both oneiric; carrying a lot of dreamlike qualities. But also fairly dark indeed… ominous, nearly threatening in places!👏👏👏
    I love it!!! A great write😀🙏

    Liked by 1 person

  3. “Eyelids to push aside half-moons”

    “lips castles of my own words”

    Always gobsmacked by your imagery. ❤️

    Liked by 2 people

  4. Wondrously expressed as always. Leaves me gasping for air. So good!

    Liked by 2 people

  5. “I eat the white-hot moon” I had a dream just like this…

    Nicely done! 💖

    Liked by 2 people

  6. Start to finish each verse had a separate grip. Nice!

    Liked by 2 people

  7. Magnificent imagery and the texture is fabulously

    Liked by 2 people

  8. An eloquent and bleeding piece that captivates me and draws me into its feels and loves, particularly
    “as a child.

    I eat
    the white hot moon
    and the fuchsia
    blood-eating all man

    With snakes crawling in our heads . . .”

    Liked by 2 people

  9. A powerhouse of a poem, Lucy. For me the heart of the poem lives here – “I hide from you all.” and, “I can’t unsee.” Resonates deeply, my friend. Lovely.

    Liked by 2 people

  10. This feels dreamy but so dark. The words are really gripping.

    “I hide from you all
    in white lies”

    “the moon sees me for what I am
    a garden of death
    that lied”

    These are such powerful lines. Exceptional imagery Lucy, always mesmerized by your way with words. The ending is so powerful too. Loved this ❤

    Liked by 2 people

  11. I spent a lot of time during 2020 in a head space where I was despondent about the past. The isolation of feeling like everything was being rearranged left me in an introspective frame of thinking. I filled up a journal in the first 12 weeks of quarantine! …and furthermore, traumatic elements of my past kept resurfacing… except with resolution… or closure. But the resurfacing felt like a twist on an old implanted, rooted in knife at first. Recently, someone said to me that they resurfaced NOW because I was finally READY to confront them. It seems true.

    Liked by 1 person

    • I am so sorry you went through that, but in a way, I’m glad there are others who can resonate too. ❤ It was the isolation that got to me which faced me with difficult, complex feelings to navigate through.

      Liked by 1 person

  12. The way of expression is unique

    Liked by 1 person

  13. Beautiful and evocative imagery as ever, Lucy. So gothic at the heart of it! Like true utter goth die-hard glamour. I need to see the film now. A chilling tantalising film it would be ❤

    My favourite stanzas:

    “the moon sees me for what I am
    a garden of death
    that lied”

    “I eat
    the white hot moon
    and the fuchsia
    blood-eating all man”

    2020 was tough for me too. The beginning of this year was particularly hellish. All the elements of death in this poem really resonate for me as this year has been one of so many endings, sad and final. But in a good way too. So I totally relate. Hope you’re in a better place now ❤ Thank you for your art and your honesty ❤

    Liked by 1 person

    • Ah, Sunra, I do not know what to say to thoroughly express how grateful I am for your praise and compliments. I thank you so very much! You make me think I should study film, hahaha. 😀

      I am so sorry last year and this year was hard—I do hope it is better even if it is just a little. With current world events and even the start of 2020 itself, there is so much anguish, agony, and death. I agree with you on the bad and good endings, as with the bad, we must see the good too at some points.

      I am in a better place, thank you so much. I have my days, but don’t we all. 🙂 Thank you for your feedback and your heartwarming words. Truly means a lot to me.

      Liked by 1 person

  14. You are most welcome. Im glad for you. And yes I am. I think the world has gained more poets as a result 😄

    Liked by 1 person

  15. Such stunning imagery, Lucy! Congratulations on the publication.
    I hope you’re feeling better. This has been a horrible year. Not knowing any of what you wrote about under the poem, it seemed mythological to me. I imagined some sort of female witch/goddess, but I suppose that’s sort of what mythology is, symbolizing our dreams and fears.

    Liked by 1 person

  16. Yes, beautiful, dark, and sad, a thing barely alive in shadows, that might perish is sunlight. Congrats on publication, which always props up our fragile egos. Missed you at our Live OLN event.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Hahaha, admittedly my ego needs a bit of love these days so I take what I can lol. 😀 Thank you so much for your kind words and support, Glenn, I’m sorry I missed the live OLN event too.

      Like

  17. Rimbaud would call you sister. Fuckinay, Bo Peep, this is like a crowbar to the skull. You never disappoint.

    Liked by 1 person

  18. I can’t unsee
    what awaits in memory peeping
    from thunders between years of innocence
    and youth

    Exactly Lucy! One just cannot forget nor avoid those happenings of the formative years in memory. In a way, it is a good thing to remember them and be remembered within.

    Hank

    Liked by 1 person

  19. a very low-toned poem, determined to remain in deep slumber, but a smooth read, very well done!

    Liked by 1 person

  20. So hauntingly mesmerising Lucy – this death-dream!

    Thank you for advertising The Anthropocene Hymnal by the way – I really appreciate it 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  21. This is the kind of poetry that comes from the dark hours, the kind that forces them to give us something back for all the blackness they so thoughtlessly carry and spread. Really so many elegant, exquisite lines in this, like Aubrey Beardsley’s work, dark but so delicious. I especially like “the moon sees me for what I am/
    a garden of death/that lied…” and the last three stanzas are the crescendo that accentuates the theme and makes it memorable. Very fine writing. 2020 was a year from Hell–this manages to give us a taste of that inferno.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thank you so, so much and I’m extremely happy that you picked up on what I wanted to convey. It was such a dark year then—it was very hard to look forward to or be optimistic about anything. The 2020 inferno is still not put behind us, but I hope it will be soon in the upcoming years. 2021 is not much better, but each day is a step away from it and a step closer to ending—at least I hope so.

      Like

  22. Such s marvelous myriad of images in here Lucy. Dark and delicious in your wrting, as ever you are my friend.
    “I hide from you all
    in white lies, lips
    castles of my own words”
    I think as writers, we all build such castles from time to time, to take refuge from the scalding truth. I been built them more than once in my 51 years of writing — and still do occasionally. Though I am much more guilty of sharing my soul, perhaps too much — but often in misdirected form, by attributing it to an anonymous voice/character in my work. But gotta write what I gotta write, as I know you must as well. Always fascinated reading you. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  23. Oh, I love the conclusion in this poem. The dream sense is so strong here, and I feel it a lot. I dream a lot, but I can only remember the sensation which is much like this. Maybe that “in death I dreamed nothing” really is a thought to rememeber. No matter the darkness of your dreams it tells you about life.

    Liked by 1 person

  24. Congrats on the publication! I think so many of us can resonate with that feeling of dreaming of nothing last year. The emotion is real and raw but still so eloquent here. Poetry is such a great outlet when we feel the hard things! 💗

    Like

  25. So great, I like how it was written, i imagined if you could write a poetry story about a deaf person (like me) who is totally outcasted by the cold society and romanizing his feelings and thoughts, it would be really really great
    Sorry for my bad English eventually, because isn’t my mother language.
    Thank you for the article!

    Like

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