Poetry competition CLOSED 30th July 2012 2:40pm
WINNER
Karrabear (Question)
Karrabear (Question)
RUNNERS-UP:
marielavoue
and Danii
INTERPRET YOUR DREAM
Anonymous
Poetry Contest Description
POETIC DESCRIPTION OF A REAL DREAM INTERPRETATION
DREAM INTERPRETATION
Most societies, ancient and modern, have had professional dream interpreters. India had its Brahmin oneirocritics; in Japan the om myoshi; the Hasidic rabbis in Europe fulfilled this role; in ancient Egypt the pa-hery-tep; ancient Greece had the priesthood within the Asclepian temples given to dreams; among the Aztecs, dream interpretation and divination were the prerogative of the priestly class teopexqui, the Masters of Secret Things; in today’s world the Freudian and Jungian psychoanalysts fulfill this role.
http://dreamhawk.com/dream-encyclopedia/analysis-of-dreams/
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dream_interpretation
http://www.dreammoods.com/
http://www.spiritcommunity.com/free-meaning-dream.htm
The Talmud writes: “A dream unexamined is like a letter unopened.”
The Talmud suggests that every dream can have at least 24 different meanings, but this is not meant to encourage an exhaustive search for every interpretation.
It is meant to remind us that dreams come from a very different world than the one we spend most of our waking hours in.
http://www.dreamtation.com/docs/6145.htm
**************************************************************************
This competition is open for people who actively look for meanings in their dreams.
Some people do it sometimes; some every day.....You may have done it in the past, maybe this will stimulate you to do it in the future.....
It has to be authentic....do not make up a poem about a dream you did not have
Each person can submit 3 poems of ANY length about their dream, their interpretation and any other outcome, such as it came true, it recurred and recurred, it is driving you crazy, you are scared to sleep.........something must RING TRUE....
So dream on, write the dream down, analyze it, make a poem about it, let it sit, then
look at it again. Personally I have had precognitive dreams. So if you have psychic
ability...again you can post your dream and result here.
I will take any questions via email or post here.
Thank you in advance for submitting your poetry to this competition.
You have 2 to 4 weeks....depending on the number of poems.
Most societies, ancient and modern, have had professional dream interpreters. India had its Brahmin oneirocritics; in Japan the om myoshi; the Hasidic rabbis in Europe fulfilled this role; in ancient Egypt the pa-hery-tep; ancient Greece had the priesthood within the Asclepian temples given to dreams; among the Aztecs, dream interpretation and divination were the prerogative of the priestly class teopexqui, the Masters of Secret Things; in today’s world the Freudian and Jungian psychoanalysts fulfill this role.
http://dreamhawk.com/dream-encyclopedia/analysis-of-dreams/
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dream_interpretation
http://www.dreammoods.com/
http://www.spiritcommunity.com/free-meaning-dream.htm
The Talmud writes: “A dream unexamined is like a letter unopened.”
The Talmud suggests that every dream can have at least 24 different meanings, but this is not meant to encourage an exhaustive search for every interpretation.
It is meant to remind us that dreams come from a very different world than the one we spend most of our waking hours in.
http://www.dreamtation.com/docs/6145.htm
**************************************************************************
This competition is open for people who actively look for meanings in their dreams.
Some people do it sometimes; some every day.....You may have done it in the past, maybe this will stimulate you to do it in the future.....
It has to be authentic....do not make up a poem about a dream you did not have
Each person can submit 3 poems of ANY length about their dream, their interpretation and any other outcome, such as it came true, it recurred and recurred, it is driving you crazy, you are scared to sleep.........something must RING TRUE....
So dream on, write the dream down, analyze it, make a poem about it, let it sit, then
look at it again. Personally I have had precognitive dreams. So if you have psychic
ability...again you can post your dream and result here.
I will take any questions via email or post here.
Thank you in advance for submitting your poetry to this competition.
You have 2 to 4 weeks....depending on the number of poems.
I had a dream....
Great Gran was here
I remember the way she smelled of flour
She seemed so sad
We were baking a pie, with no counter
Strange
The bowls and supplies were floating in the air
I realized we were in space
Her yellow comb pulled at my hair
The walls were changing, the wall paper looked burned, and was peeling away
She put the pie in the cabinet
Odd
And adjusted the thermostat
I screamed in fright, as something zoomed past my head
A crow flew in from the front door, and started flying clumsily around the room
I threw pie at it
It fell behind the fridge, when I went to get it, I awoke
A week later, Gran died in a house fire
Could it have been a sign?
The crow?
Perhaps
Maybe
Or just a coincidence
Great Gran was here
I remember the way she smelled of flour
She seemed so sad
We were baking a pie, with no counter
Strange
The bowls and supplies were floating in the air
I realized we were in space
Her yellow comb pulled at my hair
The walls were changing, the wall paper looked burned, and was peeling away
She put the pie in the cabinet
Odd
And adjusted the thermostat
I screamed in fright, as something zoomed past my head
A crow flew in from the front door, and started flying clumsily around the room
I threw pie at it
It fell behind the fridge, when I went to get it, I awoke
A week later, Gran died in a house fire
Could it have been a sign?
The crow?
Perhaps
Maybe
Or just a coincidence
Anonymous
Kitty - thank you for your poem and for being first!
Anonymous
Mathematical Genius & Dreamer- Srinivasa Ramanujan
Srinivasa Ramanujan (1887-1920) was one of India's greatest mathematical geniuses. He made substantial contributions to analytical theory of numbers and worked on elliptical functions, continued fractions, and infinite series. In 1914, he was invited in to Cambridge University by the English mathematician GH Hardy who recognized his unconventional genius. He worked there for five years producing startling results and proved over 3,000 theorems in his lifetime.
According to Ramanujan, inspiration and insight for his work many times came to him in his dreams...
A Hindu goddess, named Namakkal, would appear and present mathematical formulae which he would verify after waking. Such dreams often repeated themselves and the connection with the dream world as a source for his work was constant throughout his life.
Infinite series for π. Example of formulae Ramanujan developed that led to new directions of research.
Source: Wikipedia
Ramanujan describes one of his dreams of mathematical discovery:
"While asleep I had an unusual experience. There was a red screen formed by flowing blood as it were. I was observing it. Suddenly a hand began to write on the screen. I became all attention. That hand wrote a number of results in elliptic integrals. They stuck to my mind. As soon as I woke up, I committed them to writing..."
Source: Ramanujan, the Man and the Mathematician, S. R. Ranganathan, 1967
Srinivasa Ramanujan (1887-1920) was one of India's greatest mathematical geniuses. He made substantial contributions to analytical theory of numbers and worked on elliptical functions, continued fractions, and infinite series. In 1914, he was invited in to Cambridge University by the English mathematician GH Hardy who recognized his unconventional genius. He worked there for five years producing startling results and proved over 3,000 theorems in his lifetime.
According to Ramanujan, inspiration and insight for his work many times came to him in his dreams...
A Hindu goddess, named Namakkal, would appear and present mathematical formulae which he would verify after waking. Such dreams often repeated themselves and the connection with the dream world as a source for his work was constant throughout his life.
Infinite series for π. Example of formulae Ramanujan developed that led to new directions of research.
Source: Wikipedia
Ramanujan describes one of his dreams of mathematical discovery:
"While asleep I had an unusual experience. There was a red screen formed by flowing blood as it were. I was observing it. Suddenly a hand began to write on the screen. I became all attention. That hand wrote a number of results in elliptic integrals. They stuck to my mind. As soon as I woke up, I committed them to writing..."
Source: Ramanujan, the Man and the Mathematician, S. R. Ranganathan, 1967
Anonymous
This poem is based on a dream I've had two or three times in the past ten years.
Scorn's Resort
Where is this black-bricked cathedral
of human suffering?
An imposing hue of uncaring duress,
split and separated by beams and struts,
all constructed from onyx or jet.
Smiling, almost, at those who pass below
or beneath.
The families hidden
under acres of placid grass
span decades and miles,
and are forgotten, yet apparent
in the shelter of my crooked ministry.
A flight of stairs,
grounded upon broken and dirty heaps
of bones and grit,
reach ever upwards
toward my slanted manor,
that impugns those curious enough
not to look away.
Here, drunken zealots laugh
at those who claim to know
of invisible ideals,
before faltering along the crest
of this barren hive
that still bears panic and dismay.
Where is my sovereign embassy
of hatred and terror?
Scorn's Resort
Where is this black-bricked cathedral
of human suffering?
An imposing hue of uncaring duress,
split and separated by beams and struts,
all constructed from onyx or jet.
Smiling, almost, at those who pass below
or beneath.
The families hidden
under acres of placid grass
span decades and miles,
and are forgotten, yet apparent
in the shelter of my crooked ministry.
A flight of stairs,
grounded upon broken and dirty heaps
of bones and grit,
reach ever upwards
toward my slanted manor,
that impugns those curious enough
not to look away.
Here, drunken zealots laugh
at those who claim to know
of invisible ideals,
before faltering along the crest
of this barren hive
that still bears panic and dismay.
Where is my sovereign embassy
of hatred and terror?
Anonymous
Cthonian - thank you for your submission.
Anonymous
Abraham Lincoln Dreamt of His Assassination
President Abraham Lincoln recounted the following dream to his wife just a few days prior to his assassination:
"About ten days ago, I retired very late. I had been up waiting for important dispatches from the front. I could not have been long in bed when I fell into a slumber, for I was weary.
I soon began to dream.
Currier & Ives print: The Assassination of President Lincoln
Original - The Library of Congress
There seemed to be a death-like stillness about me. Then I heard subdued sobs, as if a number of people were weeping. I thought I left my bed and wandered downstairs. There the silence was broken by the same pitiful sobbing, but the mourners were invisible. I went from room to room; no living person was in sight, but the same mournful sounds of distress met me as I passed along. It was light in all the rooms; every object was familiar to me; but where were all the people who were grieving as if their hearts would break?
I was puzzled and alarmed. What could be the meaning of all this? Determined to find the cause of a state of things so mysterious and so shocking, I kept on until I arrived at the East Room, which I entered. There I met with a sickening surprise. Before me was a catafalque, on which rested a corpse wrapped in funeral vestments. Around it were stationed soldiers who were acting as guards; and there was a throng of people, some gazing mournfully upon the corpse whose face was covered, others weeping pitifully.
'Who is dead in the White House?' I demanded of one of the soldiers "The President" was his answer; "he was killed by an assassin!" Then came a loud burst of grief form the crowd, which awoke me from my dream."
Lincoln ascribed powerful meanings to his dreams. One of his recurring dreams in particular he considered foretelling and a sign of major events soon to occur. He had this dream the night before his assassination. On the morning of that lamentable day, President Lincoln was discussing matters of the war with General Grant during a cabinet meeting and believed that big news from General Sherman on the front would soon arrive. When Grant asked why he thought so, Lincoln responded:
"I had a dream last night; and ever since this war began I have had the same dream just before every event of great national importance. It portends some important event that will happen very soon."
His friend and law partner, Ward Hill Lamon, noted that Byron's "The Dream" was one of Lincoln's favorite poems and he often heard him repeat the following lines:
Sleep hath its own world,
A boundary between the things misnamed
Death and existence: Sleep hath its own world,
And a wide realm of wild reality,
And dreams in their development have breath,
And tears, and tortures, and the touch of joy;
They leave a weight upon our waking thoughts,
They take a weight from off waking toils,
They do divide our being;
Source: Recollections of Abraham Lincoln, 1847-1885, Ward Hill Lamon, 1911
President Abraham Lincoln recounted the following dream to his wife just a few days prior to his assassination:
"About ten days ago, I retired very late. I had been up waiting for important dispatches from the front. I could not have been long in bed when I fell into a slumber, for I was weary.
I soon began to dream.
Currier & Ives print: The Assassination of President Lincoln
Original - The Library of Congress
There seemed to be a death-like stillness about me. Then I heard subdued sobs, as if a number of people were weeping. I thought I left my bed and wandered downstairs. There the silence was broken by the same pitiful sobbing, but the mourners were invisible. I went from room to room; no living person was in sight, but the same mournful sounds of distress met me as I passed along. It was light in all the rooms; every object was familiar to me; but where were all the people who were grieving as if their hearts would break?
I was puzzled and alarmed. What could be the meaning of all this? Determined to find the cause of a state of things so mysterious and so shocking, I kept on until I arrived at the East Room, which I entered. There I met with a sickening surprise. Before me was a catafalque, on which rested a corpse wrapped in funeral vestments. Around it were stationed soldiers who were acting as guards; and there was a throng of people, some gazing mournfully upon the corpse whose face was covered, others weeping pitifully.
'Who is dead in the White House?' I demanded of one of the soldiers "The President" was his answer; "he was killed by an assassin!" Then came a loud burst of grief form the crowd, which awoke me from my dream."
Lincoln ascribed powerful meanings to his dreams. One of his recurring dreams in particular he considered foretelling and a sign of major events soon to occur. He had this dream the night before his assassination. On the morning of that lamentable day, President Lincoln was discussing matters of the war with General Grant during a cabinet meeting and believed that big news from General Sherman on the front would soon arrive. When Grant asked why he thought so, Lincoln responded:
"I had a dream last night; and ever since this war began I have had the same dream just before every event of great national importance. It portends some important event that will happen very soon."
His friend and law partner, Ward Hill Lamon, noted that Byron's "The Dream" was one of Lincoln's favorite poems and he often heard him repeat the following lines:
Sleep hath its own world,
A boundary between the things misnamed
Death and existence: Sleep hath its own world,
And a wide realm of wild reality,
And dreams in their development have breath,
And tears, and tortures, and the touch of joy;
They leave a weight upon our waking thoughts,
They take a weight from off waking toils,
They do divide our being;
Source: Recollections of Abraham Lincoln, 1847-1885, Ward Hill Lamon, 1911
Dreams
I dreamt again of the mountain
Broodingly sombre against darkening sky
I felt the fear within my heart
For at the peak, stands the portal to the underworld
I awoke in tears because I knew
A family member would die soon
We buried my mother within that month
The girl awoke at the break of dawn
Run to her mother and told her dream
Of a huge crocodile coming into her room
The mother looked at her and smile
For soon she might have grandchildren
She patted her hair and thought of veils
The girl married her love that year
The sickly elderly woman woke
To the silent night
Smile and knew she would get well soon
For she dreamed she gave birth
Depicting her illness that has gone away
Birth by potions Shaman made
Next day she finished a bowl of porridge
The man avoided the wife that day
Silent did he go away
He dreamed she had two heads
Knew she was unfaithful to him
Avoiding her screams of denials
He left for a village far away
That year the woman married her lover
Dreams are thoughts of what may come
Sent by reflections from the nether realms
Uninhibited thoughts seep into the inner mind
Words unsaid with pictures showed
Where mortal coils are discarded for a while
Allow thoughts unhampered through form
Messages from where they are to where we are
I dreamt again of the mountain
Broodingly sombre against darkening sky
I felt the fear within my heart
For at the peak, stands the portal to the underworld
I awoke in tears because I knew
A family member would die soon
We buried my mother within that month
The girl awoke at the break of dawn
Run to her mother and told her dream
Of a huge crocodile coming into her room
The mother looked at her and smile
For soon she might have grandchildren
She patted her hair and thought of veils
The girl married her love that year
The sickly elderly woman woke
To the silent night
Smile and knew she would get well soon
For she dreamed she gave birth
Depicting her illness that has gone away
Birth by potions Shaman made
Next day she finished a bowl of porridge
The man avoided the wife that day
Silent did he go away
He dreamed she had two heads
Knew she was unfaithful to him
Avoiding her screams of denials
He left for a village far away
That year the woman married her lover
Dreams are thoughts of what may come
Sent by reflections from the nether realms
Uninhibited thoughts seep into the inner mind
Words unsaid with pictures showed
Where mortal coils are discarded for a while
Allow thoughts unhampered through form
Messages from where they are to where we are
Anonymous
Grace - thank you for your submission.
Anonymous
The Sewing Machine
Elias Howe invented the sewing machine in 1845. He had the idea of a machine with a needle which would go through a piece of cloth but he couldn't figure out exactly how it would work. He first tried using a needle that was pointed at both ends, with an eye in the middle, but it was a failure. Then one night he dreamt he was taken prisoner by a group of natives. They were dancing around him with spears. As he saw them move around him, he noticed that their spears all had holes near their tips.
When he woke up he realized that the dream had brought the solution to his problem. By locating a hole at the tip of the needle, the thread could be caught after it went through cloth thus making his machine operable.
He changed his design to incorporate the dream idea and found it worked!
Source: A Popular History of American Invention. (Waldemar Kaempffert, ed.) Vol II, New York Scribner's Sons, 1924
Elias Howe invented the sewing machine in 1845. He had the idea of a machine with a needle which would go through a piece of cloth but he couldn't figure out exactly how it would work. He first tried using a needle that was pointed at both ends, with an eye in the middle, but it was a failure. Then one night he dreamt he was taken prisoner by a group of natives. They were dancing around him with spears. As he saw them move around him, he noticed that their spears all had holes near their tips.
When he woke up he realized that the dream had brought the solution to his problem. By locating a hole at the tip of the needle, the thread could be caught after it went through cloth thus making his machine operable.
He changed his design to incorporate the dream idea and found it worked!
Source: A Popular History of American Invention. (Waldemar Kaempffert, ed.) Vol II, New York Scribner's Sons, 1924
The curse of the Seeing Eye
I have the curse of the Seeing Eye,
viewing and dreaming things
I would rather not spy.
A lifetime of seeing things
that I would prefer not to know,
feeling like freak in a side show.
I had a horrifying dream in my late teens,
for the longest time I was silent
about this reoccurring dream.
When it began to escalate, I saw my baby sister’s death,
I ran to tell my mother
choking and sobbing tears, out of breath.
Of course she did not believe,
and further more admonished me,
because of superstitious beliefs.
I was considered the child with witch eyes,
there were many who feared
even my mother kept her distance,
giving only a cold disposition;
she saw me as the bane of her life,
and this, one more thorn in her side.
But the dreams only grew worse,
and try as I might, my mother
would hear none of this plight.
“MOTHER, A CHILD, MAYBE NOT YOUR OWN,
BUT SOMEONES CHILD
WILL DIE IN FRONT OF THIS HOUSE!!!”
Still she would not listen,
so I waited for the inevitable day;
that day came sure as I have written.
Every night my younger brother and I
would come home together at night,
but this one night I had to work,
as he got to the house, I was not there,
a car came out of nowhere
and struck him head on that’s all it took.
Even at work, the instant this occurred I knew,
all my warnings were for naught,
my heart felt this nightmare come true.
At work I got the call, without a doubt,
a child was killed in the place
and the way I had dreamed about.
Peace be with you my brother:
Angel Tavales Lopez
April 11, 1970 – April 27, 1987
Gypsy red
I have the curse of the Seeing Eye,
viewing and dreaming things
I would rather not spy.
A lifetime of seeing things
that I would prefer not to know,
feeling like freak in a side show.
I had a horrifying dream in my late teens,
for the longest time I was silent
about this reoccurring dream.
When it began to escalate, I saw my baby sister’s death,
I ran to tell my mother
choking and sobbing tears, out of breath.
Of course she did not believe,
and further more admonished me,
because of superstitious beliefs.
I was considered the child with witch eyes,
there were many who feared
even my mother kept her distance,
giving only a cold disposition;
she saw me as the bane of her life,
and this, one more thorn in her side.
But the dreams only grew worse,
and try as I might, my mother
would hear none of this plight.
“MOTHER, A CHILD, MAYBE NOT YOUR OWN,
BUT SOMEONES CHILD
WILL DIE IN FRONT OF THIS HOUSE!!!”
Still she would not listen,
so I waited for the inevitable day;
that day came sure as I have written.
Every night my younger brother and I
would come home together at night,
but this one night I had to work,
as he got to the house, I was not there,
a car came out of nowhere
and struck him head on that’s all it took.
Even at work, the instant this occurred I knew,
all my warnings were for naught,
my heart felt this nightmare come true.
At work I got the call, without a doubt,
a child was killed in the place
and the way I had dreamed about.
Peace be with you my brother:
Angel Tavales Lopez
April 11, 1970 – April 27, 1987
Gypsy red
http://i.telegraph.co.uk/multimedia/archive/01012/panthers_1012125c.jpg
In this crimson rain forest
A soft rain intermittently
Sprinkles, softly down on cherry-pink leaves,
of the ancient willow trees.
Blue daffodils and brown tulips, scatter richly,
within the orange animate vegetation that
welcomes this unexpected soft shower,
revealing slowly, their jewels.
Green and white bubble Bees
sing their sweet melodies
As they hover at their lovers openings
eager for a sip of their sweet nectar.
Two purple butterflies in a sensual dance,
within the last cherry rays of the red sun,
slowly setting in the green sky,
that’s slicing through the cracks within
the burgundy thick foliage.
I watch their playful shadows
dancing on the orange grass,
Beneath this crimson forest, smiling.
Feeling the prickle of the grass,
and the tickle of his
rich thick black fur
against the length
of my naked body, and
the soft cooling rain; that feels so sweet
against my parched skin,
that’s overheated
from him making
passionate love to me.
In this world of colors and patterns
I flick at a human fly with my tail;
wondering of a world in my dreams.
I world where he nor I are
these two black panthers
lying peacefully and contently
underneath a crimson rain forest,
but instead
some hairless, two legged beast
in cloth for fur.
I've had this dream once, but it stuck with me. I do not fear it nor do I hope for it to come, but I feel this world will change one day.
In this crimson rain forest
A soft rain intermittently
Sprinkles, softly down on cherry-pink leaves,
of the ancient willow trees.
Blue daffodils and brown tulips, scatter richly,
within the orange animate vegetation that
welcomes this unexpected soft shower,
revealing slowly, their jewels.
Green and white bubble Bees
sing their sweet melodies
As they hover at their lovers openings
eager for a sip of their sweet nectar.
Two purple butterflies in a sensual dance,
within the last cherry rays of the red sun,
slowly setting in the green sky,
that’s slicing through the cracks within
the burgundy thick foliage.
I watch their playful shadows
dancing on the orange grass,
Beneath this crimson forest, smiling.
Feeling the prickle of the grass,
and the tickle of his
rich thick black fur
against the length
of my naked body, and
the soft cooling rain; that feels so sweet
against my parched skin,
that’s overheated
from him making
passionate love to me.
In this world of colors and patterns
I flick at a human fly with my tail;
wondering of a world in my dreams.
I world where he nor I are
these two black panthers
lying peacefully and contently
underneath a crimson rain forest,
but instead
some hairless, two legged beast
in cloth for fur.
I've had this dream once, but it stuck with me. I do not fear it nor do I hope for it to come, but I feel this world will change one day.
[font=Courier New][size=2]
http://wordbiscuit.com/images/napalmbombs.jpg
< dog woke me up >
but all i could think of
was the gasoline
and that picture
that kid
and the napalm
and my car needs gas
and i go out to the car
and get in
and start it
and drive to the gas station
and there they are
pouring it over her
and there i was
helping
i had the matches in my hand
i was reaching down when
the dog woke me up
- - -
http://wordbiscuit.com/images/napalmbombs.jpg
< dog woke me up >
but all i could think of
was the gasoline
and that picture
that kid
and the napalm
and my car needs gas
and i go out to the car
and get in
and start it
and drive to the gas station
and there they are
pouring it over her
and there i was
helping
i had the matches in my hand
i was reaching down when
the dog woke me up
- - -
Anonymous
Gypsy, Glynis, Ray....thank you for those wonderful contributions!
left behind to close the gate
not a thanks
the vault door is so heavy
it took all my might
i saved us from danger
i cleaned up after
i led us to our escape
not a word
no apretation
its like i am only there when you make a mess
i am not needed by you, only used
we were attacked
being infultrated
and i was expected to know everything
you thought i had a plan
you relyd on me
but how do you think that i would care anymore
i am a slave to your wishes
you say im the only one that can save you
so when i dont come up with a way
do you intened to use me as a sacrafice
and still tell me this is best
you cant sway me with words anymore
did you really think
you could be saved
when you cant even say
"Thanks"
not a thanks
the vault door is so heavy
it took all my might
i saved us from danger
i cleaned up after
i led us to our escape
not a word
no apretation
its like i am only there when you make a mess
i am not needed by you, only used
we were attacked
being infultrated
and i was expected to know everything
you thought i had a plan
you relyd on me
but how do you think that i would care anymore
i am a slave to your wishes
you say im the only one that can save you
so when i dont come up with a way
do you intened to use me as a sacrafice
and still tell me this is best
you cant sway me with words anymore
did you really think
you could be saved
when you cant even say
"Thanks"
