That last line fascinates me. It’s like she doesn’t mind telling her darling that she dies in her dreams, but she can’t bear to even think of how she dies, much less talk about it. They must be pretty awful deaths. 😦
They are. Very bad. Sometimes, if I tell what happens, I gloss over it. Like a few times this past week, I drowned. But I left out the fact that it was a tidal wave and I tried to swim to the surface in one, or that other one when I was on some ship (which reminded me in some ways of the Titanic) and it sucked me down as it sank. I couldn’t swim out of it. But those, those are nothing compared to the ones when I’m being attacked or tortured. When I wake up, I still feel the injuries I sustained in them.
I know what you mean! This poem struck me so strongly… I’ve died in so many different ways in my dreams, and my dreams are so vivid that sometimes I have to remind myself it was a dream, especially when I wake up with scratches or marks on my skin that are reminiscent of injuries sustained in my dream.
That was also the goal. To me, when I sleep, it’s almost surreal, like time is a little slower, and it flows like water over a stream. I wanted the words to be reminiscent of that.
That’s a tricky one, Sarah. So many facets to look at. Some writers (me, for example) would need an entire essay to write what you just did and still miss the mark. Genius.
I don’t think I’ve actually died in my dreams. Considering the vast variety of dreams I’ve had, that’s saying something. One of these nights the odds will not be in my favor…
It’s not fun. If I’m unlucky enough to last that long, I wake up when my body realizes I’m not breathing. It’s like my body knows I shouldn’t be, so I hold my breath until I can’t any longer. Those are the worst. I’d much rather wake up when things get too serious or scary, but no.
This is that kind of sorrow I absolutely love that only poetry can truly describe. You are a mistress of such forms, and I loved this. It may seem weird to love something sad but all the ‘greats’ had very, very sad poetry and it was much beloved. Moreover I think it’s societies intolerance of different emotions that restricts us, than the lack of merit to sorrow, after all how would we understand joy without its reverse? This was beautiful Sarah xo
You’re so right about that. I think one of the reasons those of us who write is because we are broken or sad on a deep level in some way, but we know how deep it is due to the fact that we’ve been on the other side of the spectrum. Because we FEEL, we can put emotions in our words. At least, that’s the goal. Thank you, love. 💖
Each night I die
To be once again hav you near me
In morning I die again
When I don’t see you near me
How many times I may keep dying
I still believe
Once my death will take me near you
It’s nice. How can we read the books?
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My books are free, and you can get them at most retailers. You can find links under “Book Links” in the navigation window of my website. 😊
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Ok
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Reblogged this on Creative Writing Reblogged.
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Beautiful!
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Aw thanks!
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These needs to be put to music or something…I loved it!
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Oh, thank you!
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Ah, brings up memories of Vanilla Sky. Anyway, great piece as always, Sarah.
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It does a little, now that I think about it.
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Amazing.
how deep words. deeper than terror itself !
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Thank you so much. I can’t begin to describe how awful it is.
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Amazing imagery here!
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Thank you so much! 😊
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No problem!
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That last line fascinates me. It’s like she doesn’t mind telling her darling that she dies in her dreams, but she can’t bear to even think of how she dies, much less talk about it. They must be pretty awful deaths. 😦
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They are. Very bad. Sometimes, if I tell what happens, I gloss over it. Like a few times this past week, I drowned. But I left out the fact that it was a tidal wave and I tried to swim to the surface in one, or that other one when I was on some ship (which reminded me in some ways of the Titanic) and it sucked me down as it sank. I couldn’t swim out of it. But those, those are nothing compared to the ones when I’m being attacked or tortured. When I wake up, I still feel the injuries I sustained in them.
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I know what you mean! This poem struck me so strongly… I’ve died in so many different ways in my dreams, and my dreams are so vivid that sometimes I have to remind myself it was a dream, especially when I wake up with scratches or marks on my skin that are reminiscent of injuries sustained in my dream.
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Yes, exactly. It takes some time to calm down enough to catch my breath. Often, if they’re bad enough, I don’t go back to sleep.
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Haunting. Also, rather randomly, I love the rhythm. Although it’s a short piece, it just flows off the tongue. Thanks for sharing!
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That was also the goal. To me, when I sleep, it’s almost surreal, like time is a little slower, and it flows like water over a stream. I wanted the words to be reminiscent of that.
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That’s a tricky one, Sarah. So many facets to look at. Some writers (me, for example) would need an entire essay to write what you just did and still miss the mark. Genius.
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Really? That’s quite the compliment. Thank you!
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I don’t think I’ve actually died in my dreams. Considering the vast variety of dreams I’ve had, that’s saying something. One of these nights the odds will not be in my favor…
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It’s not fun. If I’m unlucky enough to last that long, I wake up when my body realizes I’m not breathing. It’s like my body knows I shouldn’t be, so I hold my breath until I can’t any longer. Those are the worst. I’d much rather wake up when things get too serious or scary, but no.
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This is terribly melancholy and so very true. I remember a deampt demise far more than a happy moment. Beautifully crafted piece!
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Thank you so much! 😊
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Sarah, you are “killing us softly” daily, lady. Daily. It is a divine thing to witness.
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Well murder isn’t my goal, but I appreciate the kind words. Thanks so much, love! 😊
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Ahh, it is a good thing. That was a little Roberta Flack reference for you. You’re most welcome.
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😊😊😊
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So glad to be back and read this. LOVE IT.
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I’ve missed you. Welcome back!
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This is that kind of sorrow I absolutely love that only poetry can truly describe. You are a mistress of such forms, and I loved this. It may seem weird to love something sad but all the ‘greats’ had very, very sad poetry and it was much beloved. Moreover I think it’s societies intolerance of different emotions that restricts us, than the lack of merit to sorrow, after all how would we understand joy without its reverse? This was beautiful Sarah xo
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You’re so right about that. I think one of the reasons those of us who write is because we are broken or sad on a deep level in some way, but we know how deep it is due to the fact that we’ve been on the other side of the spectrum. Because we FEEL, we can put emotions in our words. At least, that’s the goal. Thank you, love. 💖
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Exactly right ♡ you are uniquely able to voice that S and it always reminds me of the value of both extremes ♡
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Aww thank you! 😊 😊
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Sometimes your dreams can conjure your own personal nightmare.
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Oh, yes, definitely.
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That is more scary than any other horror movies out there.
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It is. Thank you.
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Each night I die
To be once again hav you near me
In morning I die again
When I don’t see you near me
How many times I may keep dying
I still believe
Once my death will take me near you
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Awww
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Felt the death again 😊
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I’d be afraid to close my eyes in this was me!
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I rarely sleep. I think there might be a correlation there. 😆😆 Buy seriously, it’s not fun. The other night I drowned. I woke up gasping for air.
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Sarah sleep is good for beauty and I wish you sleep more to be more beautiful…. You are
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Aw thanks. I do try, but my mind sometimes won’t shut off. And when I do sleep, I’m often in great peril.
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What do you tell yourself before sleep, Sarah
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I daydream good things, hoping they’ll come alive in my dreams too.
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I heard a beautiful message at YouTube while on the flight just a few hours ago… Mind if I wish to share with you the link.
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Please do.
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I did
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I’ll watch this soon.
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The link won’t work.
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It’s embedded in some kind of code that won’t let me open it.
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Aaahh okay…
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How to find your soul mate sadhguru
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OK, I’ll look it up.
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7.59 minutes video just check that..
An person with beard giving a deep lesson.
Video is still
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Type those words at you tube
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Check now
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Maybe. Ouch and here I thought dreaming about the crime novels I’ve been listening to was bad! You’ve got me beat.
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Sorry, love. I’d much rather be in a crime novel in my dreams. 😆😆
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I’ve read so many lately that I’ve become suspicious of my neighbors! 😆
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😆😆😆
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