Linda Studley

Can't Put the Pen Down…

Archive for the tag “dreams”

The Long, White Struggle

It’s a long, slow slog;
this stuttering transition
from winter to spring

with hopes of greenery
thawed and frozen all along
the dirty, white way

until you cave in,
like a collapsing igloo,
and believe the ice

age has come for you;
encased you eternally,
one hand on the box

labelled ‘Spring Clothing”
the other on your down filled coat,
desperate with hope

even through nightmares
of hard, white piles crushing
your warm breath to mist.

“It’s supposed to get up to plus eleven by next Friday” he says.
I’ll believe it when I see it

Dreaming My Cold Away

When I have a cold,
when I’m stuck in bed,
I close my eyes and dream
I’m somewhere else instead.

Sitting on the beach
with my toes in the sand,
a cool glass of something
sweating in my hand.

Or I see myself gardening
Planting hopeful seeds,
tucking in the plantlets,
and turfing out the weeds.

Or maybe I am drifting
on a lake in our canoe.
My paddle dips and dives
like the loons and loonlings do.

While I’m lying in my bed
trying not to swallow
there is no shining memory
I won’t pull up and follow.

Till the microscopic menace
loosens up its fetters
and I can truly say
“I think I’m feeling better.”

But until then I’ll close my eyes
and dream my cold away
with ideas for summer projects
and plans for sunny days.



Bits and Snippets

I dream in bits and snippets.

Like a chanel surfer,

searching for something new

yet familiar.

Like a film festival of captionless

foreign movie trailers.

My attention deficit manifests

as a long dark hole

in the middle of my consciousness

where ideas, fixations, and fears go

to die, then return to haunt my subconscious.

I know they were there last night.

I know my dreams paraded by like

some circus freak show.

But I can’t recall a single image.

Perhaps my subconscious is just trying

to protect me from insanity.

I can respect that.

Time to rejoin the real world and

pray it makes more sense

than the nightly bits and snippets.





Why do I dream of beautiful things

falling apart, of useless relics underfoot,

of strangers in my home?

Are my dreams some strange waystation

for past, present, and future baggage;

a merging place for alternate realities

where outcomes are all able to occupy

the same space at the same time?

This is what comes from failing Physics in high school.

Why do I dream impossible foolishness?

What crossed circuit or over tired synapse

is responsible for my dreams of broken glass

and spilled wine?

My REM cycle seems to have a flat

and I awake, gasping for air.


# 197



When I sleep I dream of things
I’ll get done today, brass rings
I’ll grasp, grand schemes come true,
the looking glass I’ll sally through.

But now I find, once I’m awake,
my plans are slightly more prosaic.
Like tiling walls, then, if I choose,
installing a new low flush loo.

I’ll do the things within my grasp
Though my brass ring be made of wax.


Tree Dreams

Trees dream of summer too.
Of days filled with the laughter of tender leaves
and singing rain.
Alive with the heart beat of hummingbird wings
and the mingled perfume of warm earth,
wild flowers, and ripe berries.
Stripped and slumbering the trees bide, knowing
one day the sun will rise with new warmth,
the wind will have dulled his teeth
from gnawing on ice and snow,
and water will chuckle once more.
But for now, the trees sleep on,
visions of summer yet to be
safe within their rings.


The Cards You’re Dealt

With a steady hand
one can build a house of cards
from a deck of dreams.

But beware the breeze
of your own breath as you sigh
at its perfection

and the well placed dreams
slither down into a pile
of new potential.



A list speaks to new beginnings.
It captures the underpinnings of dreams,
like outstretched wings,
holds them still while you measure them and
calculate the distance between now and then.

Lists distill cherished outcomes
into digestible bites,
doable steps.
Lists live in the future
where everything happens
and anything is possible.
The trick is to always add another item
to the list every time you cross one off.



A Plan

A plan charts the map for the road trip
you’ve always wanted to make.
A plan put wheels on wishes,
distills fuel from day dreams, and
packs a lunch of hope and sandwiches.
A plan.
Gotta get a plan.


Ripples and Wrinkles

Ripples in a lifetime.
Wrinkles in a dream.
Choices like a pebble
tossed into a stream.
See which way the wind blows
by the bending trees.
Ripples in a lifetime.
Wrinkles in a dream.

Ripples in a lifetime
Wrinkles in a dream
Don’t be looking down
when you’re climbing up a tree.
Hold your breath and float
like a feather on a breeze.
Ripples in a lifetime.
Wrinkles in a dream.

Ripples in a lifetime.
Wrinkles in a dream.
How deep is the water?
Deeper than it seems.
Rainbow’s to the ripple
as the sky is to the sea.
Ripples in a lifetime.
Wrinkles in a dream.


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