Showing posts with label Dream. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dream. Show all posts
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
by W
I know
what happened to a dream.
It was diffused, not deferred, it was a silver dandelion
that blew away in a spider web and sprinkled
its dream pollen on ground and on grass and caught
in long hair and landed in the wondering eyes of small children.
People once thought it would melt in the sunlight.
It grew into fields full of stars.
--------------------
This is this week's submission to the Commuter. Whitney's stuff is always so dreamy, isn't it?
I know
what happened to a dream.
It was diffused, not deferred, it was a silver dandelion
that blew away in a spider web and sprinkled
its dream pollen on ground and on grass and caught
in long hair and landed in the wondering eyes of small children.
People once thought it would melt in the sunlight.
It grew into fields full of stars.
--------------------
This is this week's submission to the Commuter. Whitney's stuff is always so dreamy, isn't it?
by Turtle Shell
Where do dreams come from?
And where do they go?
It's hard work, dreaming.
More than wishing or wanting,
A dream is an intention, a belief.
Amidst the hard lessons life teaches
It's difficult to hold faith
That a distant desire can actually be had.
It's harder still to make one come true.
To dream is to sacrifice, to persist,
Inch ever forward, practicing and learning.
Keep betting on it,
Keep rolling the dice,
Keep paying the price,
Until they finally roll right.
Not every dream gets chased.
Mutually exclusive dreams will rip a person in half.
Impossible dreams must be let go, or fail.
There is a catacomb of once living dreams
Starved withered husks clutter a psyche's dusty alcoves;
Curios, nostalgics
Don't stare too long, you'll only make yourself sad.
And be warned,
Some aren't as dead as they appear.
Where do dreams come from?
And where do they go?
It's hard work, dreaming.
More than wishing or wanting,
A dream is an intention, a belief.
Amidst the hard lessons life teaches
It's difficult to hold faith
That a distant desire can actually be had.
It's harder still to make one come true.
To dream is to sacrifice, to persist,
Inch ever forward, practicing and learning.
Keep betting on it,
Keep rolling the dice,
Keep paying the price,
Until they finally roll right.
Not every dream gets chased.
Mutually exclusive dreams will rip a person in half.
Impossible dreams must be let go, or fail.
There is a catacomb of once living dreams
Starved withered husks clutter a psyche's dusty alcoves;
Curios, nostalgics
Don't stare too long, you'll only make yourself sad.
And be warned,
Some aren't as dead as they appear.
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
by Langston Hughes
What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore--
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over--
like a syrupy sweet?
Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.
Or does it explode?
--------------------
Our prompt for the week is 'what happens to a dream when it gets deferred?' I don't think we have to restrict ourselves to the list of options that Langston Hughes provided.
In other news, we're looking for LBCC Poet Laureate applicants for next year. Not 'we' the LBCC Poetry Club, precisely, but near enough. So if you know anyone who might be interested, get them in touch with someone who can help them apply (Robin probably would be best, or someone else in the English department). There's apparently a $250 per term stipened sweetening the pot for whoever is chosen to take up the mantle.
What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore--
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over--
like a syrupy sweet?
Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.
Or does it explode?
--------------------
Our prompt for the week is 'what happens to a dream when it gets deferred?' I don't think we have to restrict ourselves to the list of options that Langston Hughes provided.
In other news, we're looking for LBCC Poet Laureate applicants for next year. Not 'we' the LBCC Poetry Club, precisely, but near enough. So if you know anyone who might be interested, get them in touch with someone who can help them apply (Robin probably would be best, or someone else in the English department). There's apparently a $250 per term stipened sweetening the pot for whoever is chosen to take up the mantle.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)