Photograph courtesy of Johannes Plenio, Unsplash

“With hundreds of millions of people sheltering at home during the coronavirus pandemic, some dream experts believe that withdrawal from our usual environments and daily stimuli has left dreamers with a dearth of “inspiration,” forcing our subconscious minds to draw more heavily on themes from our past.” The pandemic is giving people vivid unusual dreams. Here’s why., Rebecca Rener, National Geographic



A fulgurous moon on pandemic nights
Piercing the substrates of dreamland
Doing a lindy-hop with my hippocampus

Retrieving data records and videos
The oddly stored sentences and mental
Photographs, well-played scenes

Of midnight Mass at St. Pat’s, my
Baby’s sticky kisses, a swan-dive into
The red of Valentine’s roses, the feel

Of champagne fizz-tickling my lips
Visions cavorting at length, nothing
Fear-filled or surreal, just the good old

Joys of life, resurrected to counter the
Green phlegm of a COVID-19 lunascape

© 2020, Jamie Dedes

WEDNESDAY WRITING PROMPT

I’ve been having the most interesting and engaging dreams since the lockdown started. Rather odd since for me “lifestyle” hasn’t changed that much. I wondered if I was alone in this and did some research. Not alone. Some people are having dreams that are frightening or bizarre. I wonder what your experience is. Tell us about your pandemic dream-scape in your own poem/s and …

  • please submit your poem/s by pasting them into the comments section and not by sharing a link
  • please submit poems only, no photos, illustrations, essays, stories, or other prose

PLEASE NOTE:

Poems submitted on theme in the comments section here will be published in next Tuesday’s collection. Poems submitted through email or Facebook will not be published. If you are new to The Poet by Day, Wednesday Writing Prompt, be sure to include a link to your website, blog, and/or Amazon page to be published along with your poem. Thank you!

Deadline:  Monday, May 25th by 8 pm Pacific Time. If you are unsure when that would be in your time zone, check The Time Zone Converter.

Anyone may take part Wednesday Writing Prompt, no matter the status of your career: novice, emerging or pro.  It’s about exercising the poetic muscle, showcasing your work, and getting to know other poets who might be new to you.

You are welcome – encouraged – to share your poems in a language other than English but please accompany it with a translation into English.


Jamie Dedes:

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Maintain the movement.

“Democracy is not a spectator sport.” Bernie Sanders

14 Comments

  1. Hello Jamie! I totally almost forgot today was Monday with it being a holiday. Here is my offering for this prompt. Hope I make it in time – if not, no worries. I really should set an alarm for these…=)

    “To Run, No Chance to Dream ”

    Sweat drips down
    my brow
    my chin
    my arms
    my back
    Onto the treadmill that has had better owners
    it rumbles
    it squeaks
    it grinds
    it whines
    But it can’t be heard up two flights of stairs at 3 AM
    it won’t disturb my quietly sleeping children
    it won’t disturb my quietly snoring spouse
    it won’t disturb the quiet illusion of life as it should be
    Here in the basement cave with it’s napoleon ceiling
    I do not want to sleep
    I do not want to dream
    I do not want to figure out how to stay safe from something that can’t be seen
    I do not want to figure out a “new normal”
    If I am moving, I am not dreaming
    of things that I can’t control
    of things that I shouldn’t hope for
    of things that could be or should be
    of things that start with “what if”
    So I run but not away, just enough to sleep
    without dreaming
    without pretense
    without aspirations
    without the energy for my brain to continue the run

    It is now 5 AM.

    Liked by 2 people

  2. “Please Complete in Triplicate”

    Yellow ties snake out of
    brown bin liners
    like thin layers of leather
    with static cling that
    accommodate copious quarts
    of unrecognized
    refuse, be it
    a shattered sex toy or
    a shiny tray splattered with spaghetti.
    In the “new normal,”
    I’m denied discretion as
    it’s deemed an anti-contagion
    civic duty to
    fill out forms
    listing every last
    object chucked into each
    garbage bag sagging
    by the curb.
    I nitpick over the papers,
    plunged into panic as to
    whether I’ve revealed
    all my trash truths
    in ink black enough and
    fearing I may find myself
    fined or detained or
    banished to a rubbish blacklist
    because I’ve unwittingly breached
    the bureaucracy theater
    thought up to thwart either COVID-19
    or the bearers of virtual torches and
    pitchforks turned viral
    on Twitter.

    Liked by 4 people

  3. Sending love and good vibes from LA 🧡

    “states”
    birds chirp
    the last
    song heard
    before going
    into shallow
    restless sleep
    pipes clank
    neighbors laugh
    dogs howl
    window cloaked
    in moon
    sliced Roman
    shades cardinal
    red i
    then find
    the cacophonous
    earth fading
    from me
    there is
    a river
    in the
    anemic star
    light its
    ripples a
    veil of
    opal and
    brass the
    pit in
    my throat
    slowly calls
    a chant
    a prayer
    of sorts
    to any
    available mother
    to take
    me in
    the arms
    of anything
    before the
    poison of
    the hyacinth
    breath of
    the deep
    seated night
    will drag
    me in
    the undertow
    of her
    charms while
    the nymphs
    dressed in
    Coco Channel’s
    post C19
    gray suits
    flirt for
    a like
    enmeshed in
    electric forgery
    unnatural i
    the feel
    in this
    cage of
    bone nothing
    but mud
    midnight news
    reporting blues
    and the
    porous truth
    that soon
    a derivative
    of Pi
    will flow
    through my
    blood to
    buffer the
    pandemonic messiahs

    Liked by 4 people

    1. Beautiful stream of consciousness. I especially liked, “but mud midnight news reporting the blues and the porous truth that soon a derivative of Pi will flow through my blood to buffer the pandemic messiahs”.

      Liked by 2 people

  4. ..were we dreaming?.

    as i passed i saw the room, coal on your table,

    spread neatly. wondering i glanced around,

    saw the snowy underwear on hangers,

    the chandeliers.

    it all showed pride and i know

    you have seen it too. raddled

    face in mirrors, knowing that we

    are all much the same, without

    meetings and disagreements.

    so,

    must we write about it before we forget,

    before people come and disagree?

    they have small waists and a national costume.

    sbm.

    Liked by 4 people

  5. Thanks Jamie….

    ..bad night dreaming..

    dreamed of devastation, flew miles low

    over concrete . skeletons, bones of the thing.

    all is dust, as dust we have become. slow.

    grey. nothing moves here no more. no sighs.

    they have forgotten us. we have forgotten them.

    are we now the bones of what we were?

    bad night dreaming.

    sbm.

    Liked by 4 people

  6. TEACHING ME,
    Of the classes my father paid,
    Of the classes I paid for me,
    Nothing tops like the classes I teach me,
    Am the pupil,
    Am the tutor,
    Notes compare the mood,
    Yesterday does shine quite a bit,
    Today has it’s shadows,
    Tomorrow seems a decade away,
    My score sheet blurrs,
    May mark pen draws exes in excess,
    A staccato of dreams zig zags on the edge,
    Every human smote rides my eyes,
    I mourn with ease what mornings bring,
    Vacation vacated it’s pull,
    Reading tells better news,
    Afraid is quite real,
    Reality is traumatic,
    My own voice sounds alien,
    And prayer raised it’s volume,
    My bridal hopes still dreams of a sunrise,
    My groom is every human with a sigh,
    Am reaching out to myself more,
    Am negotiating with mind more,
    Am recounting scars with a smile more,
    Am learning from own lessons and tutorials,
    And my score though not high,
    It’s above average truth be told,
    For priorities are ever clearer,
    Rif raf and procrastination has exposed themselves.
    I have met me and sat with me besides sleeping with me,
    And I dare say am pleasantly surprised at who I saw,
    A creature who thought they knew but now know they didn’t,
    For what had mattered all those wasted years is simple,
    Love life as you live it in the moment,
    Enough is the best stock to keep,
    Health is wealth of a kind and matters a lot,
    The mind has great capacity to adapt,
    And Humanity is just one part of the universe, and not the universe,
    That all men are basically the same and their needs are simple.
    And I woke with the smiling sun,
    Thankful for such a class that taught me the simplicity of life .

    Liked by 4 people

Thank you!