“The naive judgment of the dreamer on waking assumes that the dream – even if it does not come from another world – has at all events transported the dreamer into another world.”
The Interpretation of Dreams
~By Sigmund Freud
you tried to take away
my wish fulfillment you
dissected it bit by bit until
it became broken into pieces
of quantitative analysis
sterile bits of soul laid bare
upon your theoretical
frameworks
I allowed you to strip me
leaving my subconscious
naked the entire time believing
in your precepts trusting in
your self-professed science
becoming a hypothetical
experiment
how could you have known
anything of my candy colored
absurdities my twilight bathed
inspirations my laurel hopes my
Amazon desires you did not speak
my dream language your muteness
sliced my emotions with surgical
precision
if only you had cared to know
something of my autumnal eyes
my emerald amulet my perpetual
shores my beating waves my cerulean
depths you did not feel my swells
your resolute bias steeled
cool
© Pamela Rossow
You may not drink J-A-C-K, but you sure as hell can write. I initially thought this would work best as prose/poem but around verse three got the flow.
Regards
Ha-ha, thank-you!!! It was more like prose . . . glad you stopped by!
Pam
Pingback: Third Sunday Blog Carnival: Volume 1, No. 2 « Third Sunday Blog Carnival
It is scary if we allow someone or something to get so close -
dissected it bit by bit until
it became broken into pieces.
This poem beautifully fetching.
The scary part isn’t necessarily getting close it can be what happens after. . .the unexpected. All worth the risk, however, since love endures. . .maybe not in the way we hoped it would. Thank-you.
“you did not speak
my dream language your muteness
sliced my emotions with surgical
precision”
Sounds like someone tried to crush your dreams lately! I think this poem is a nice retaliation if that is the case. It is wonderfully written, I love the strong imagery! Thanks for sharing!
Not a retaliation, just catharsis. xo
lovely
irenethebean.wordpress.com
Thanks, Irene.
“candy colored absurdities” — Yes, we all have our own absurdities. Thanks for sharing. The metaphors are well-thought out.
Oh, we do
It’s what makes life colorful. Thanks for dropping by!
This is just brilliant!
Thanks!
a dish well cooked with beautiful flavors.
profund poetry.
Thank-you. xo
“sliced my emotions with surgical precision”
This is true with much of life, don’t you think Pamela? More is the analysis and less of true connection without explanation. Loved it! Blessings, Terri
Yes, it is true of unexpected life. All depends on the analysis and if the connections were deemed authentic or just bits of emotions. Thanks,hon.
Pamela
Lovely poem just as it stands – to divide it up or analyse it word by word would be to destroy its magic
Thanks so much. Pleaseeee. . .no more destruction.
Like how you drowned your words into emotions, using metaphors..!!
Thank-you. I think it was emotions drowning in words.
incredible.
naked and beautiful piece.
Thank-you.
A naked soul,
Pamela
Very nicely stated…maybe therapeutic even
Thanks, poetry=self-medication
Take that, Freud! Haha, I enjoyed this very much
I’m actually siding with Freud and his dream interpretation on this one and skipping chilly Oneirology. Thanks for stopping by!
So creative in your imagery. Very delightful.
Enjoyed!!
William
Thanks, William, for dropping by
Wow! That was beautiful. I loved the way you expressed yourself “You did not feel my swells, your resolute bias cool.”
http://rimlybezbaruah.blogspot.com/2011/11/my-love.html
Thanks, Rimly <3
Over time this hurt will subside!
Yes, Sav. xo
The complexities of dream languages and life went beyond the relationship. Analysis without feelings and feelings that are dissected, become cut and dried. The essence of a relationship is lost in the sterile environment. Everything does not need to be controlled and boxed up. Some things are simply to be enjoyed and appreciated.
Your poem is beautiful.
Yes, sterile, silent, and something very wrong about the need to box it all up. I want to live in twilight with someone who cares enough to remain next to me, accepts my colorful absurdities, and doesn’t hurt me with cool, hypocritical theories. Dan, you are one of the most intuitive communicators I know.
Wow, that’s deep Pamela! Great poem and love your image you chose to put with it
Thanks, Mary. Cistern deep. xo
What a stark difference to your teenage dream…and his loss…if he but knew it…
Yes. Didn’t matter. xo
Time for You.
A
Thanks, A. I know. xo
Par
Wonderful expression….profound.
Thanks, Janaki.
And ‘perhaps the experience of a psychoanalytic problem?
What is not taken care of a sensitive soul, in its essence?
A hug:)
Claudio
Oh, so many metaphors, dear Claudio. Too many to explain. . .
Grazie,
Pamela