i need to write these down,
these words kissing the backs of my eyes–
dream language loops lightly across cortical ridges;
these visions sand shaped casually by god’s finger
pointing to truth taken back in waves
did you know inside us
there are oceans
claiming what is not spoken & lifted away
before breath or ink chain it?
Susan Daniels Poetry 
I liked the ocean imagery very much.
Oh, thank you, KB. A lot of the time, I wake up with images, dreamed lines just lurking there and wanting to be written, but they vanish by the time I reach for my pen.
This is a wonderful poem, Susan
Thanks so much. I have to confess that it drives me crazy when I lose lines or images this way, but the very act of trying to write them down banishes them.
It’s as if the words were as ephemeral as the situation.
Exactly! All one can do is let them go…
I like this Susan. Please also revisit angry Susan sometime.
Bound to happen sooner or later–I have a rather short fuse…
Glad you liked this!
I’m a sucker for what we find in dreams. I spend lots of time with people for whom dreams are irrelevant and seldom a topic of conversation, so I thought your respect for what you see with eyelids closed was well-said.
I figure your fuse would have been fairly short by now if Mr. Romney had won yesterday. Drats! Just kidding, all seems good with the world.
LOL, spot on, Trent. I have been accused on FB today of NOT being a graceful winner, too 😉
Had something to do with sending those unhappy with the results somewhere else…
I see. Nice. Well, there will always those who are unhappy and who feel that the other side got away with something. That’s just life. Political parties aren’t the same as moral divisions are they. Don’t get me started on ethics…
Hee, hee. I like to get you started on things, Trent. Usually leads to some good writing!
Please turn off the cattle prod, Susan. It really does leave a sore. Long ago, I learned to accept that people are basically good, but some run on a different sort of fuel. I think you likely burn ethanol, to be honest, but not from corn. Maybe switchgrass or something sustainable like that.
Hahaha–no, my substance of choice is coffee. I heard recently on NPR, though, that beer made from some grass that is invading the great planes was actually quite appealing…
If it’s wet and has more than 4% alcohol, I’m in.
This is a beautiful poem, Susan, rich with imagery, just lovely, you’ve caught the essence here, I feel
Polly, thank you. Those lost lines, though, those were something else entirely. Hope they come back in some form…
Took my breath away.
Thank you, Julie!
I used to keep a pencil and notepad by my bed to write down my dreams if they woke me up, or lines of poetry that came to me as I slept, couldn’t understand a word I said the next day so, gave up. LOL
This is beautiful thinking and, poetry Susan.
Bren, thank you! Unfortunately, I DO keep a pen and paper by my bed, but these words were no fleeting they evaporated as I reached for my pen!
very nice susan and also the concept you worked with:)
Thanks, Don.
inside us are oceans…love this…and so difficult sometimes to pen these verse down without breaking their spirit..
Thanks, Claudia! Absolutely…this one decided to swim away from me before I could stretch out my hand for my pen. Tricky little things, sometimes.
Wonderful! Having to grab it before the wave takes it away! I’ve loss so much because I’m too —-lazy to get up and write it down before I foreget it!
LOL–yes, I know what you mean! It fascinates me that our minds write while we sleep.
oceans inside us. 🙂 this poem is resounding, Susan.
Thank you, Jane.
Oh my, this one is superb and such a joy to read.
Nelle, thank you. To think this was prompted by losing lines in the first place… I am almost tempted to say I prefer this to the lines I let slip away, but I will never know…
I believe we lose those snippets for a reason. Something demands better from us, whether what we say doesn’t fit, isn’t right, or whatever. It’s a challenge to think a little more and work a little more. It’s frustrating as all get out, and we lament their loss as if children, but the reality is too often we put forth something far better, as you just did. I’d like to cite a favourite line, but the whole damn thing works so well.
Nelle, thank you so much–humbled you like this this much.