dream catchers

 

i.

how come i cannot find

a playbook for young girls

so they can be 

stormcatchers 

& cartographers of their lives

instead of walking with bounded

feet and wounded hands

ii.

child

draw your dream in a paper

and tuck them in your pocket

-fisher of stars

-wind catcher

-queen of seven seas

-king of lost forests

your pimp will not want them

your jail keeper will thow away the key

they belong to you

in heat of hunger and cold of despair

in the lonely hours of darkness

unfold their inconceivable wings & glorious eyes

unflinching and unvanquished

fixed on you

no, you will not forget them

they belong to you

they cannot be bought

they cannot be sold

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Stormy Weather, with guest host, Andrew Wilson.  Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.  Thanks for your comments.

i dream of dreams (i cannot remember)

my dreams float

in the glass jar,

brimed in peach-

apple cider 

i open the shelf

to admire its color- now amber-

gold & honey

in summer

but in autumn, the 

liquid is deep cobalt-green

the sky takes on a sheen of melancholy

i cannot shake off

i think of another place and time

where the clouds are blue-grey

and the half-moon is glorious star-

i open the jar & inhale the half-

part of me, that swims between sun-

set and dusk

never quite framing the face half-

turning, walking between door-

ways

of meanings 

and blank walls, i am

still air-scribbling, i am 

dreaming

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub- Poetics:  Dreaming up a Poem with guest host, Truedessa.   Please join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.  Thanks for your visits and comments.

of dreams

Grace @ Everyday Amazing

you didn't get to taste   
Canadian baked apple pie --

not for the first 3 years
that you live in this city -
preferring your wife's hand-rolled coconut 
milk sweets & saffron-dusted treats -- 

but these days, you bring either ham or
turkey sandwiches for lunch at work, mindful
of curry smell of your skin and breath --  

from eating rice with butter-based ghee, 
& potatoes and lentils with Indian spices, 
you politely inquire about everyone's weekend--

in this city of snow  & maple leaf dreams, 
you have traded your family's name & pride 
for the promising future of your only son 

here - in this city where immigrants
work shoulder to shoulder, cowed & bowed
from cold winter & scarce job market--

this is the city of forgetfulness --
(even the immigrant consultant forgot to tell you) 
to survive, forget the past & make a clean slate,
making mistakes, learning to conform until

you speak English slowly with little accent, 
(while writing your English novel at night)  
wear suits & pass courses - all stamped with approval -  

at the turn of the year, you buy  
groceries (including wine & apple pie) with
your modest income at nearby Walmart's store -

hailing a waiting  cab for home -
(you refused to take the driver's test still)  
the driver is turban and gruff of hair, 
another survivor, a mirror of you & you

chat, eager for a slice of familiar soil,    
comparing notes, and for a moment 
both of you remember

your dreams 

My top post for 2012 and all time is Follow Your Dreams.  I decided to write the same theme from my office mate's point of view.  And yes, I made this apple pie from scratch yesterday.  Thanks for the visit.      

Shared with D'verse Poets Pub - OpenLinkNight - Tuesday