Thursday, July 7, 2011

in dreams



In my dreams I am the fictional version of myself.

The one I seek to be in my short-stories and prose.

The one who gets her point across but in a more colorful way,

who experiences newness for the sake of transcending the old,

beautiful settings that fall from the sky and say to me

"live here, now", and "live away from there"

I see her sometimes, when she writes herself differently

she's clever and bemused and pitiless.

she's an orphan with a great aunt who is

a millionaire who steals her away from poverty-

but that's someone else, it isn't me.



or is it?
Posted by at
Labels: , ,

20 comments:

  1. Vinay Leo R.July 7, 2011 at 7:58 AM

    I think it is what we see in our dreams; that we write in our pages. Nice poem Amy :)

    Btw, it is your suggested prompt at Haiku Heights this time. Haven't seen you yet. Do share your piece with us too.

    ReplyDelete
  2. StutiJuly 7, 2011 at 10:20 AM

    WOW! you are n amazing poet! absolutely loved it!

    ReplyDelete
  3. AnonymousJuly 7, 2011 at 12:03 PM

    I loved the last few sentences especially fabulous

    ReplyDelete
  4. Brother OllieJuly 7, 2011 at 12:10 PM

    that is a cool story! love the metapoetry!

    ReplyDelete
  5. DaydreamerJuly 7, 2011 at 1:37 PM

    Hmmm... this goes hand in hand with an old quote: "You are what you 'think' you are"
    Lovely prose, thanks for visiting me.

    ReplyDelete
  6. K. Shawn EdgarJuly 7, 2011 at 2:18 PM

    I like the phrase "steals her away from poverty." There's a double meaning in that, and people often become millionaires by stealing or swindling. I think you're better off as the actual you -- a good writer.

    ReplyDelete
  7. NicoleJuly 7, 2011 at 6:13 PM

    Very nice! I often say to someone who reads my work that knows me, oh no it is just a poem. But really I am in there somewhere. Well done.

    ReplyDelete
  8. Linda Bob Grifins Korbetis HallJuly 7, 2011 at 7:17 PM

    brilliant.
    Thanks for sharing.

    ReplyDelete
  9. AnonymousJuly 7, 2011 at 8:22 PM

    We dwell within everything we write, but especially when it comes from the spirit, like your piece does.

    Elizabeth

    ReplyDelete
  10. bttrflyscarJuly 8, 2011 at 6:22 AM

    thanks for your great thoughts guys!

    ReplyDelete
  11. Sherry Blue SkyJuly 8, 2011 at 9:54 AM

    I love it, "she's an orphan with a great aunt"........lovely taking these flights of fancy. Well done, kiddo!

    ReplyDelete
  12. IsabelJuly 8, 2011 at 3:50 PM

    lovely write. I believe there is a part of us in everything we write. thx for stopping by my blog. it ws great seeing you there.

    ReplyDelete
  13. bttrflyscarJuly 8, 2011 at 7:12 PM

    thanks ladies!

    ReplyDelete
  14. AnonymousJuly 8, 2011 at 9:26 PM

    Wonderful :)

    ReplyDelete
  15. UnknownJuly 9, 2011 at 3:41 AM

    Lovely and makes one ponder ....thank you

    ReplyDelete
  16. AnonymousJuly 9, 2011 at 4:51 AM

    Clever write! A million thoughts :)

    ReplyDelete
  17. AnonymousJuly 9, 2011 at 1:37 PM

    A lovely write!

    ReplyDelete
  18. Michelle WallaceJuly 9, 2011 at 3:44 PM

    Definitely food for thought !
    And it has been said that poetry/prose mirrors reality ...

    ~MISH~
    http://writer-in-transit.co.za

    ReplyDelete
  19. EllaJuly 10, 2011 at 8:05 PM

    Well Done I loved it, especially your ending, so novel like :D

    ReplyDelete
  20. bttrflyscarJuly 11, 2011 at 6:49 AM

    thanks Ella, that means a lot!

    ReplyDelete

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)

Reach for the clouds. . .

Tickle your toes. . .

  • in tact
    sex object. not afraid of the words. I've used many objects for the sake of sex. in fact my body has been pretty disposable- I don't...
  • Memoir of a Memoir: Week 7
    Ah, 7. The number in question. During this process of developing my first full-length work of prose, and a memoir to boot, I have considered...
  • John Wayne
    two squinting painted eyes looking solemn on a leathery face. this knight of the golden age has a 20 gallon bucket of a hat atop his slicked...
  • Hi Faithful Readers
    This is just a short note from me to inform you that after my extensive monthly study and subsequent written exploration of Psalms and Prove...
  • rain
    Rain, dearest friend. You know just when to pound on my head. I know there is more to this world, than what I have given from inside myself....
  • in dreams
    In my dreams I am the fictional version of myself. The one I seek to be in my short-stories and prose. The one who gets her point across but...
  • small stones
    July 7th the face of a rose deflates our windowsill- not much of a garden. July 8th after the party- a painting is crooked I think someone d...
  • Invention of Play
    The ache in my jaw reminds me of my age, that I'm still cutting teeth on broken sage and giving up meat is my best bet, because I'm ...
  • Sister, I...
    sister so (un)successful sister so in-(dependent) sister, are you in there? "always the color blue, always take the train, always wink ...
  • (no title)
    Cal, For Elizabeth Bishop You are American gossip, Didn't anyone have the heart to tell you? You said yourself, you are fantastic and u...

Poets United Contributor