Big Window

a quick glimpse of something beautiful

Dream by Dorothea Lasky

The woman we did not know the

Woman, she was unloved

We started first with shame

And told her not to have any

We sat her down

At the table with us

It was at this point

That has I saw the dot

Small and red

That had only been white wall

It had only been white wall                                                                                                    

A moment before

But upon looking it was big

When you listen to a sound

It gets bigger

I went up to the dot

And it was really a T and green

And then it was not that

As I looked closer

But a series of letters

And then more and then more

I looked at the woman

And said something about emotions

She seemed to understand

I said

Like a fire within a fire

It is the beating heart which beats the hand

I woke up

I said this dream out loud so that I would remember

It was supposed to end there

I went into the bathroom

And saw the red beneath my eyes

A lit fire

The skin in front of light

With the blood contained looks like fire

Everything is Prophecy now

Even my own body

Everything looks to be

Prophetic now

Even the days that stretch

Out in front of us and become one life

Even in the million books

It was the one book that really mattered

Even in the million lovers

It was you that really mattered

Though I couldn’t have known it

This dream is the only dream that

Really matters

This day is the only day that really matters

Rustle rustle goes the time

Away from me

It is this one divine

Second that really matters

Not the others

Folding over into some infinite

Russian doll that holds the others

Red and green and white

And gold

The doll is always part gold

And I am part gold too

But it is only in this moment that I tell you

That this really matters

Time, music, the dead

We leave them for one second

It is a million seconds that we leave

I can’t know

The time I have left this world and come back

But that I came back

Is why you are listening

And when you listen it sounds like a word

And when you listen closer

It is a million words

And closer too

It is a million voices

And beyond that it is the world

Which is small and insignificant

But upon looking

It is where we are

And we are everything, living things

We are everything

I know this now

The ego leaves

And is submerged into a great fire

But we live in the midst of that

Always rushing through it

Like we can’t know

But we do

If we strain to the top of it

But we do know

If we turn around and look

At the top of it

See one thing contained

And then the rest cascading from that

A windmill of deep emotions

That spill upon unlocking

It is the one human emotion

That upon looking

Become the feelings that matter most

I am gold

But you only see my skin

But there is gold underneath this skin

That I cut and let out

And it sounds beautifully

A gold sun spray

Across the room

That comes forth as sound

It is not beautiful anymore

It is a million sun sprays

Letting themselves spill out into the room

And when you look closely at the spray

You go blind

There is no way to separate the one from the other

But when you kiss me

You do not go blind

You build up

A million sprays to come forth

That look like sound

That become art

That feel like touch

They are not touch

The sun contained in me is not touch

That is what we have touch for

To bring about the thing contained

by Dorothea Lasky

published in Puppyflowers 11


Reclamation by m.a.wakeley via flicker

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Filed under: Art, Poetry

One Response - Comments are closed.

  1. m.a. wakeley says:

    Dorothea, I came across my painting here with your poetry which left me speechless…. it is what I paint… and I am still astounded by this discovery.

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