Dream In Metaphors: a poetry 'blr

Benjamin, 43yo writer in Oregon, trying to use this as an inspiration recharge

[dreaminmetaphors]

Why must we dream in metaphors?//Try to hold on to something we couldn't understand...

[dreaminmetaphors]

Dedicated to...

I crawled from the suburbs to a last patch of forest, Found the tallest poplar still standing and slept in the cleft between roots. Before survival: cook fire, thatching a shelter, or even sipping from a stream nearby, I wove a basket of branches, tied off with pine needles, base covered by large green leaves So that I'd have a place to collect my love for you as it sprang up like morning dewdrops on my fevered head or like the irregular rainfall from the cloudy vision of an uncertain future filling my eyes. When it's been too long since I've seen your face, I can concentrate, sip the curve of your lips from my fragile basket, And see your eyes alive with the light of a younger day.

One night, years ago, I dreamt with such fervor that I dreamed I'd fallen asleep next to you, And my dreaming self had a dream of you Where every word I whispered was so erotic, I had you shuddering from the curve of the comma, And you punctuated my every affirmation with exclamation. We were so well-versed in conversation that our bodies became a song. Consonant with your desires, I invited you to supply all the vowels. Your confession: “Oh, I () you,” made my heart skip the same beat you missed. When I woke from the dream I remarked that there was too much space for silence in our songs. Then I woke up.

I decided I had to be something more like what you wanted. I wrapped myself in earth & forest, beat my chest as a man might if we'd never invented language. Then I set to work: I built you a model train, but it vanished into the ether where the circle of tracks I'd laid ended. I made an Independent Film of my loneliness and held an opening night in a valley by the lake, and nobody came to see it because no one was invited to dive into my solitude like you. I bought an old house as condemned as our relationship and replaced every board and shingle of it, Every hinge, outlet, stair, trim, and window. Every wire, every pipe, every corner-hiding spider. Constructed it anew as a metaphor to reject your rejection, Yet somehow you ...said that Ship of Theseus had sailed.

Once I'd limped back to civilization, I ordered a sturdier box than my basket would ever be, Two-day shipping because I could, but I wasn't in a rush. I scrounged up every scrap and memory that you'd left me with, the fruit-by-the-foot wrapper, blurry old photo you took of me in autumn leaves, all those instant messages, I drowned them all in the box with what I'd saved from the basket, locked it tighter than your jaw on the last day I ever saw you. And I placed it in the basement behind the washing machine where no one would think to look. Only on nights like tonight, years between them, do I dare, sometimes, to sneak down there, Whisper the password to the spider who guards it, twist the box just the right way to open it, And I refresh myself with the awe of being hopeless and raw in your presence, Wondering why I still care that someone so obviously wrong for me Had to be so impressively honest about that, and in spite of her own loneliness, refused to love me back.

[one-time-i-dreamt]

The word loss was banned. I don't remember the consequences for saying/typing/using it, but it was really bad and you weren't allowed to say it. IRL and online. International.

"I am at a :.|:; for words" was a massive meme after the ban got lifted. (It existed for about two days dream time.)

[moona-talkz]

I am at a :.|:; for words...

[dreaminmetaphors]

:.|:;.jpg

[dreaminmetaphors]

Baggage 'n' Stuff

Don't mess with people's stuff. I got reckless one day long ago, showing off some sweet moves, & I accidentally jump-kicked a friend's dream catcher. A thousand one nightmares came screaming out, & I got caught in the rip current. Hey! A couple of those had been mine, probably from sleep-overs. Strange how you never really know if there's magic in the world until you break a spell. We were magic. Did you ever know that? It felt like you were already looking elsewhere in the moment it broke, so maybe you didn't see. You don't have to be Simone Biles executing a wolf turn to know: balance is important. Rare is the romance where your desire for one another is matched just so, and nobody falls off. For the next few months, I carried hopes for our reunion in the bags under my eyes. People asked if I was packing for a long vacation. Then took my vacant-stare reply as a Yes. I waited so patiently, watching the end credits roll, expecting the teaser for a sequel that never came. I missed you more than a 7-year-old boy misses the toilet. Time is its own special magic. Less the bully who punches you in the face, more the annoying little brother flicking your arm: "Does that hurt? Does that hurt? Does that hurt? Does that hurt? Does that hurt?" I used to pluck each grey hair, tape it in a notebook with the date & name of whoever gave it to me, but it felt weird to be practicing my autograph, page after page. One day I remembered to think about her & realized I hadn't been talking to her in my head, also that she'd slipped from second-person to third. You ever see someone who's irreverent enough to "swear to God" when they're obviously lying but, in doing so, discover that they actually do believe more than they realized & get real nervous? That's the tremulous surprise I had in realizing: Y'know, I could be happy with someone else I maybe haven't met yet. Months later, I flew to a wedding on an island. Normally, I'd have taken along what little of her I had left, but the good times were more than I could stuff into my carry-ons, and... have you seen what they charge for even the first bag you check? Maybe with elite status I could have brought 'er along, but I'm just me, so I left her behind, Discovering that with any break-up, both of you have to do the dumping eventually. It's just a question of who goes first, and then a long wait to see when the other catches up. I guess it always took me too long to catch up to where she'd already been, until that day I didn't. Walking along the shore might have reminded me of thinking of her (On an island, you can go round & round.) But instead I stopped and picked up another nightmare that washed up just ahead of me. It was one of those teeth-falling-out ones that I've heard about but never had. I gave it to a nearby fisherman who skewered it on a hook and fed it to a fish who became his dinner. I guess we all find bad ideas tempting sometimes. It's easy to get hooked on one. The secret is letting 'em go, which is tricky because they're hard to spot until they break ya for a spell. If only there were a dream catcher for bad ideas. Hey, maybe that's what humans are. And that's why we all have so much baggage. Just in case that's true, I strongly recommend: a little kindness when dealing with others. You never know what people are carrying around unless you start going through it yourself. And I think it's better if you just... don't mess with people's stuff.

[staffs-secret-blog]

Currently our best idea at tumblr to get profitable so far is to rename the site to twitter since they're not using that name anymore

[staffs-secret-blog]

What the hell is copyright law

[dreaminmetaphors]

The Nerdiest Limerick

I once went to a Con as a Vulcan, Called an elf by a girl who likes Tolkien. She said, "Speak friend and enter." That one word really sent her. Now we Live Long & Prosper in Buckland.

[radicalgraff]

"The wrong Amazon is burning"

Sticker spotted in Anchorage, Alaska

[dreaminmetaphors]

Ar7is7s Wan7 7o Change 7he World, bu7 how 7o

We artists want to change the world. Create the book/song/poem/painting/performance that will make everyone—Stop and See. To inspire that movement, rock the foundations, break the power structure... usher in a new era. That's the dream, and I know as much about dreaming as every single one of us does.

My dreaming since about middle school was to be a writer. After I saw Jurassic Park I wrote my own story where me and some friends— Good friends from back in elementary school, though, because middle school was different— Got stranded in the woods trying to rescue girls in my class from some villain ...and dinosaurs. I didn't understand pacing, setting stakes, creating characters, or basic physics like weight differential. I had a starting line and the wild desire to run manically through the obstacle course of creation... Strange to reflect back on that beginning, writing purely for myself, that became a vocation, a drive to reach out with my words and... something. That next bit changed in balance with how the world and I grew into each other. Especially as I noticed artists reaching back toward me, appreciating those I felt and reacted to who left feelings like fingerprints on my heart, ideas and images in the soft folds of my mind.

There was this one song that came out when I was in middle school. Maybe the singer called himself Prince because he enjoyed riding to the fairytale rescue. Maybe then he preferring instead to be the symbol of that ride, rather than one solitary rider. I did the best I could at finding placeholder friends from those available. Even they didn't get me. I had to walk sideways to fit in. And in that time in my life when I felt most alone, mildly but consistently mocked when being too much myself, letting my light shine through, This song struck me with a lyric: “The young so educated they never grow old.” Hearing that made me instantly less alone.

Do you feel me? Doesn't have to be your harmony to know the heartfelt elevation I'm talking about, But I leaned on that lyric like a crutch, y'all. This strange, suave, sexy rock star had somehow crooned a word-nerd's power chord, One that nobody near me even noticed. He spoke the same potential world I saw, shared the very visions I was considered goofy for having. Stood up and sang it triumphantly! Providing a bridge to walk along until I reached a time when I'd have better friends.

See, artists want to change the world. That's our shared dream. And you know as much about dreaming as every single one of us does, each our own. The dream is a world in your mind, and art can cast itself across the chasms between them. We can change worlds, each time our mind finds resonant connection with another. Think about when art has spoken directly to you. See? You already know how it makes change. But you won't know which idea, what lyrics or rhymes, complex character or beautiful brush stroke Will be that bridge: the dynamic joy that binds us through a magic called empathy. You may never meet those who will most connect with your art, some maybe aren't born yet, & so you won't get to discover what strength or assurance or perspective you provided them. I think you miss the mark if you only want to start the revolution Better that you could usher in even one world's new era, or inspire movement in another.

And for giving me the respect of your listening ear, I want to share this truth a favorite song told me about us: “I am yours now, and you are mine. And together we'll love through all space and time.”

[whitepeopletwitter]

[shelovesplants]

The real ones never left Tumblr 🙌💯

[dreaminmetaphors]

Hey, who you calling out for being re-alone on here? 🤪😬💀

[afeelgoodblog]

[dreaminmetaphors]

Why...are there frogs in me?

[dreaminmetaphors]

Limes

Okay, you just crossed the line in a big way,

so now we're gonna have a little talk, you & me.

Don't think I haven't noticed how the world is changing.

Portland used to be a slate gray winter,

hazing a drizzle-cloud around rather than downpouring up on ya,

I didn't mind the rain; it's what I came here to plant myself in,

but now? It comes down 1-night-stand hard & heavy,

pounding it fast as if to get it over with.

Alternate winters bring weeks of bitter cold cloudlessness,

though I realize you're messing with my head on that one,

gradually warming up the threshold of what cold means.

Global Warming, I see what you're doing, and I don't like it,

but I'm willing to accept the future with you in my life--

As long as you do NOT mess with my limes.

See, I don't drink soda except when there's rum in it,

and where one little squeeze can make a good drink great,

juicy, chunky limes have straight-up rescued some miss-mixed messes.

Think how the lime's acidity pulls all the flavors of Pad Thai into a choral harmony.

I love my limes. After I've got my squeezing out, I'm not done.

I'll eat every bit of that tart, sticky flesh.

I accept the pucker-face.

LIVE that pucker-face like breathing through a yoga position...

So. Time for the reckoning:

Polar bears? Yeah, our bad.

& that ice cap slowly gliding off Antarctica.

(Ozone almost patched, too.)

There's probably other stuff I should be worried about, yeah?

Funny thing is, I don't mind an explosion of tornadoes ripping up Arkansas every April.

Nobody else is volunteering to pry guns from their shit-stupid redneck fat-fingers.

After Stand Your Ground, kids playing Hunger Games,

& don't think I forgot those butterfly ballots,

another Category 5 hurricane, or fuck it, show us what a Category 6 is

could be the best thing to happen to Florida.

Rest of America would taste that rainbow.

Yeah, I realize I'm sacrificing Key Lime Pie, but that's mostly marketing.

The majority of limes come from Mexico, where they're experiencing more droughts in the growing area...

So let's deal. You can pimp slap the American South

like you were the reincarnation of General Sherman.

They deserve it. Again.

I'll even throw in Manhattan:

drown those coke-snorting Wall Street rats in the subway tunnels.

But do not Do Not destroy my limes.

Do you realize how hard it is to replicate lime with artificial flavoring?

Unlike strawberry, so easy to forge that only the freshest real deals make the fakes offensive,

No one really does it. Lime runts are chalky.

Skittles gave up and switched in green apple when they couldn't get the lime right.

You can barely catch the tart shock of how a lime feels even standing in the lime light!

So I will do whatever I need to.

Even if I have to travel to a now-defrosting Northern Canada,

Buy up soon-to-be-sunny beachfront property,

plant my own lime trees all across my acres,

I'll do that while the rest of a stupid humanity is dying out like dinosaurs.

When you're all out of fossil fuel fools feeding your feedback loops,

whose pollution are you gonna use?

You gonna come crawling back like spring?

Or be falling at my feet like autumn leaves, all at once these days,

in between the two remaining seasons?

I've been cutting out red meat. I don't even drive a car. I will give you NOTHING.

Global warming, this is a warning: I will have my limes.

I WILL HAVE MY LIMES!

Do Not FUCK with my LIMES!!!

[ofcoursethatsathing]

Existential crisis duck lamp lmao

[link to get existential duck...]

[ur-daily-inspiration]

[dreaminmetaphors]

Now go listen to M83's Raconte-moi une historie. Right now DO IT

[picsthatmakeyougohmm]

[dreaminmetaphors]

Yeah, we've all been there

[dreaminmetaphors]

With a Lemon Twist

Even in the darkest night, I'm a bright-sider kinda guy, smiling under starlight.

The glass is half-empty because I'm hydrated.

And the worse things get, the stronger I become.

So trust me when I say: the best part of the worst of humanity

Is that you can improve yourself by removing an aspect of their strategy.

Take their playbook with a grain of somersault. Give it a swirl with a lemon twist.

Seriously. I want you to study failure so you can repeatedly ruin the recipe when you reproduce it.

Take the guy who always supplies a reason he never really needed for why he quits:

"That's it! I can't find a synonym for cinnamon, so I'm gonna sin again. Screw this noise!"

See me grinning? Because I found a loser's life hack, only I quit at quitting.

Why settle for a deeper reason when an idiot excuse suffices to hear yourself make mouth word noise?

Say what? Yeah, those days you just need to hear yourself say it aren't about making sense of anything at all.

So say, "That's it! I already got caught in the rain, so why would I kill myself today? I'm over it!"

Ready for another? You know that guy who never misses a chance to buy his ticket?

Dashes to the store before they drop the lotto balls like it's a New Year's Eve event?

I can borrow that tenacity and point it at something with purpose more than playing with matches.

I keep vigilant eyes open for those four-leaf clover friendships.

I'm not just going online, bubbling in numbers and waiting around to be found.

Speaking of matches, you can mix and match fail-style strategies (this is the next level)

Just as easily as you could with good things multiplying like... hip-hop turntables built out of legos {record scratch screech}, feel me?

Two negative numbers give the same positive product. That's just math.

The dismissive asshole at the party who stomps your story because his ego's a vast emptiness?

Aaaand that person who gets walked all over whimpering and whispering, "but I can change them"?

Let's say someone tries to apologize for hurting me, I can answer: "Cool story, bro," and not accept it.

DJ Lego, rewind that back: I do not accept apologies.

I can acknowledge it and keep faith that they can change

Without the <slap> "lemme see that on replay" <slap> "here I am, hurt again" <slap> lifestyle.

The only thing I accept is changed behavior.

I volunteer as tribute only so far as, "Here, lemme be a consequence you remember.

Maybe ruining this relationship with me will help you be better next time.

Because you being on your journey is not an excuse to murder mine."

I do this every day, take negativity from people who never have anything nice to say,

Let that remind me to mind the details because the devil is in there already.

Then I crossfade that fluffy new age white privilege-y "everything is meant to be" mentality,

Fold it up like an extra napkin in my back pocket, and produce a prayer more like...

Radio telescopes listening for an alien invasion:

"Hey, if you're out there, I want to believe, but...

In the mean time I'm gonna default-operate as if I'm the only hands you've got down here."

Truth be known, some days I don't feel like sticking around to see it,

But that's when it's time to apply Karen-level defiance!

The glass gets half-full as I pour quiet contemplation like good hydrations.

Then I'm back in action again:

Bright-sider on the darkest night, smiling under starling.

The worse things get? Well, I guess the better I'd better be.

[dreaminmetaphors]

Was on the last live stream, right until the end (if you don't want the sad screenshots up, @sshtonedseagoat lemme know and I'll take em down)