Is there poetry in the chaos...

(unfinished)

Chaotic Patterns

Victor L. Vogt

the madness and the memories

How disappointed would you be to find out that the world you think is real is nothing more than the twilight left behind from a magical experiment gone wrong... and you are, for the time being, trapped in the limbo between the dream and the consciousness of a sometimes lonely poet... who only wanted to slip back in time for a moment... and just a moment... a long time ago... to say the words that should have been said... to  look into her eyes for just a little bit longer... to find a glow of eternity and to find the truth of love in that last kiss... that ended too soon...

I am sorry for the inconvenience the hunger of my soul may be putting you through - but in my defense, I am no master wizard... nor where the men that  thought could help me find my way back to that girl... that left me when I was just beginning to come to life... and those wayward spirits... they play with ones emotions when it comes to negotiating their bargains... for they too wish to slip into the physical realm for reasons only they would understand... a bunch of jokers they are and really worthless in the affairs of love... if it is love that I was trying to go back and find... maybe not... she did not love me... but there were moments - in between the madness and the cries... when the city darkened and the voices out side the window faded away to where ever the whispered lies of unfaithful lovers disappear to... there were those moments when she was in my arms and I sang her songs I wrote for another woman... and the light came in through the cracks in the window that cast shadows on the walls and floor like light reflecting from a lake in the night... and she would let out her lazy moan and needed me to carry her to bed... and lay her down like a child... that moment... when I thought she would drift off to sleep... and I would try to rise from the bed with out disturbing her... when she would grab my arm and open her eyes and ask me if I loved her... and I would - with out hesitation lean in closer to her and say - "who else would you imagine that I could love..."

and her lip would curl just a bit in the corners and her whisper would tremble in a subtle way  - the way some notes sound out of place in your favorite song - but only you can notice it and can actually appreciate the awkward subtleties of a masterpiece... that my friends... and passersby... was the moment I was trying to get back to... when the hopes and dreams of other wandering fools clashed with mine and we ended up drifting in this chaos... chasing after the loves we lost and the moments that slipped away - that had they played out differently... my friends... you would have never come to know this wandering fool of a man and his ramblings...

When I tell the story of the one that got away - it is not you... nor are you the one for whom I spilled my blood for on the alter of Qamal... for one more moment in time with the one that slipped away to some other dream realm with what was left of my heart... and the scribbles I call poetry that suffocated my soul... and the words of the man I wanted to be for you...

the serpent and the cross

The Darkness

It starts with whispers... it comes like a gentle voice in the stillness of my solitude... it is seductive...

But then...

It taunts me and it mocks me and the more I try to ignore it... it just howls louder and laughs at my weakness... “you're weak...” it whispers in my mind... “ what are you gonna do... punk?”

I ignore it...

“Faggot...”

I walk away...

“Pussy...”

I make myself busy... or pretend to be...

“Why the fuck haven’t you just killed yourself yet...”

I grab a bottle of whiskey...

“That’s right... try to find your courage in that bottle and cry... bitch... and then go out and do something stupid... or call one of your whores to come over so you can fuck your fears away... I’ll be here all night... puto...”

I grab the bottle by the neck.  I see his shadow crawl on the wall and throw the bottle at him...

It shatters... and he laughs...

He crawls into the mirror... and I trap him... in my stare.

He speaks - “tell you what... give me one good reason why we shouldn’t... and I’ll let you go...”

I have no good reasons - “you know you want to... I can feel it... I can smell the anger in you... I can taste the blood of that savage fury... I burn with that rage... I have been burning with it since you were a boy... we can’t carry it any longer... we can’t put it out... we can only let it spread... give me one good reason... and I’ll let you go...”

I have been angry since I was a boy.  Angry that my father left.  Angry for being poor.  Angry for  being shy and small and meek... angry for being awkward and solitary... angry for not being heard... angry for being afraid... angry for not ever being told what the reasons were for all the changes in my life that others were controlling...  And anger for not being able to express my feelings on the matter... that anger just got pushed down... into a hole... in my mind... and  it left a stain on my soul.

And then... I was angry at being taken from my country... and angry for losing my culture and my language and my heritage... angry for abandoning who I wanted to be to fit in with the other kids... angry for not being taught any thing useful... angry for not knowing how to become a man... angry for being betrayed by those I trusted... angry for people blaming me for their stupid shit... angry for not chasing my dreams and not finding the ones I went after... angry for giving up... angry for her... for the love I wasted... for the time I wasted... for not knowing how to keep her... angry for all the women... all the whores... all the worthless fucking that amounted to nothing in the end... angry for losing my faith and not recognizing love when it finally arrived... angry for the ones I did hurt... and  the ones that hurt me...

And I pushed it all deep down into a hole in my mind... and the stain on my soul grew a little bit heavier.

And then... I was angry when I learned the truth and when I came to terms with the truth... that someone should have told me when I was young... and I was angry for the lies on top of lies that I had always been fed... angry for the friends I lost and the moments I had that I let slip away... angry for the times I let others use me and take advantage of my kindness... of my weakness... of my fears... my desperation... angry for the things I lost that I thought I needed and angry for the money I wasted on them... angry for letting myself slip into the despair and the darkness... that weakness when it grabs hold of me... that took years to crawl out form... angry for the wasted years and the missing years  - the time that I cannot make up or buy back or trade my soul for... angry for the things I said and did and the deals I made that I cannot take back... angry for the devil that chases me... angry for this broken body... my shoulders...my legs... my foot... my mouth... this ear...  Angry for those demons in the night... angry for those trying to shove their beliefs on me... for those trying to take my beliefs away...   angry for this world I can not save - we wont save it... angry because I know all we can do is burn it down... angry for being so fucking angry all the time and trying to keep it reigned in... angry for having to come back in from the wild... from the sea... from the darkness... angry for the destiny I have chosen... for knowing that I will die alone... and  I will.

I look into his eyes... the room lit by the soft glow of candles dancing and reflecting from room to room in this old house... “I can’t think of a good reason not to burn the mother-fucker down... and not spill the blood of the weak, degenerate, greedy, miserable, filth on the streets... but after we start... will you help me find a good reason to stop”

He looks back at me with sadness in his eyes... and desperation in his voice and says - “I can’t...”

Dash Deringer - 47

purple skies

(another strange dream of battles in the sky)

The dream started out strange and I knew it was a dream I was in  -  the black basketball gave it away.

I had just arrived in a town that I think is Odessa, Texas. I have my ruck sack slung over my right shoulder and I am carrying my old guitar in my right hand and a black basketball in the other. I walk onto the basketball court in a school yard - I do not know this school but from what I see of it, it  is very modern and clean and surrounded by trees, it is not a school I remember from my days in Odessa..  I place my bag and the guitar down and I start dribbling the basketball - I am actually practicing dribbling the ball as if I was trying to teach myself how to do it, sometimes stopping to toss the ball through the hoop... I am wearing my blue running shorts and a long white t-shirt... I don’t know how I know I am wearing this, but I am... I stop my dribbling practice a couple of times to play with the guitar - I am teaching myself chords... I pluck at it and hold it like I was holding it for the first time... I am learning this instrument for the first time - I don’t know what that means... why am I relearning everything? When I go back to my dribbling I see that the black basketball is changing colors - it goes from black to gold to hues of green and back to black... it is black when I hold it in my hands but when I push it to the ground it changes colors... I stop and hold it with both hands and examine it... nothing.

I look up and I am standing in front of a hotel, it is crowded outside and looks like people are looking for lodging - it reminds me of when we first moved to Odessa in 1979 - there was not enough housing for everyone during the first years of that boom... but my room is reserved and I just walk in and settle into my space... there is a terrace on my floor and the residence gather there to talk... I  find my old friend Will there and I see a young man named Ruben that I casually know - a dark skinned Mexican with very white bright teeth and a muscular upper body - he is always friendly and happy.  I hear the people on the terrace gossiping and scheming as people do when new wealth has made its way into their lives... that oil money... but I go looking for Will... I lean over the terrace and see him making out with an old girlfriend of mine but in the dream she is a current love interest - I don’t really think much of it except for how rude it is that she did not come to see me - or perhaps she is coming to see me after she has been satisfied by Will... I am not angry at will - he knows I don’t love the girl but I am bothered that he is doing this under the same roof (so to speak) as I am in... I walk away and make my way through the crowd on the terrace back to my room - Ruben walks up to me with his big bright smile and just stands there looking goofy in front of me... I just start laughing at him... we find a place on the terrace with a view of the city and linger around with no purpose like the rest, my girl shows up and is friendly and affectionate... the whore... then Will arrives and starts talking about all the people and everyone starts telling the tales of their  boom town adventures... and I offer my own childhood experiences of Odessa from 1979 to 1983...

The sun is setting and it seems that more people have gathered on the terrace... Will, Ruben and I are smoking and drinking some beers... the setting sun has turn the sky shades of purple near the horizon and fades to blue above us - I make a comment about the stars being so bright and Will says it is still to light for any stars to be noticeable but I  point up and he looks and says that is strange that we can see them, but they are there and they begin to flicker... very far up in the sky blurry clouds begin to form... the clouds are on the edge of space it seems, but I can see the stars behind them for they are so bright even in the echoing glow of the setting sun. the image in front of us is mesmerizing and the crowd on the terrace all stop their conversations to gaze upon the horizon. 

In that silence I hear a boom in the distance... not a crack and not a crash but a distinct and recognizable reverberation of a distant boom... that trembles in the air... everyone hears it and we inspect the skies... one of those blurry clouds far up in the atmosphere begins to expand and becomes thicker and more defined... and we see a star fall from Heaven... I get a familiar feeling and every one just looks on in awe... as the cloud expands the stars begin to dance... they are moving around chasing each other... the crowd is amazed... but I start to remember the war... what war? I get the feeling in my dream again that this is now a memory and know that what we are looking at in the skies is a battle... I tell Will and Ruben we need to get the hell out and I run into my room and grab my bag... “meet me out side” I tell them but they think I am crazy and I tell them this is a war... we gather outside and they have their ruck sacks on their shoulders and we are dressed as if we were going on a hike... Will asks about my girl, I say - “that filthy faithless whore can stay behind to get what she has coming to her...”  Will looks down in shame - he knows I know... I put my hand on his shoulder and tell him now is a good time for him to prove himself to me... there is an explosion in the sky and clouds begin to change colors - it is from the explosions - purples and blues and greens and reds... the crowd on the terrace thinks it is fire works... but soon the clouds fade away and the jets come into focus... I start running and the  two follow me... I head for a residential area but only because I know it is the road out of town... will asks how did I know this was a war... how did I know what was happening... and who are we at war with... I only respond that I don’t think this war has anything to do with us - as a nation.

There is big pick-up truck in someone’s drive way that we jump into the bed of to rest and inspect the skies... and I begin to explain the war... but they look at me as if I am making it all up... which I am, because I can only give them my theory... of what is happening... and I am explaining to them the dreams... and I tell them that there is a very good chance they are trapped in one of my dreams... Will grabs my jacket collar and punches me in the face and tells me this is no dream!!!  There is an explosion and it shakes the truck and I begin to question (in my mind) my reality... Ruben pulls out a pair of ridiculously big binoculars with a light on top of it like a lazar but is white... and tries to get a look at the battle over head but the light begins to draw the attention of the jets and other strange ships in the sky and they begin to come toward us... Ruben puts his binoculars away and we run... stopping to take shelter in peoples yards as now bombs begin to fall on the neighborhood... we run and stop for shelter all night... the neighborhood is now on fire... we hear people scream... and demonic sounds from the sky... every time I look up the sky is a different color and the atmosphere flickers like an old television screen... and I know it is not a real sky but I cannot explain the jets and the bombs that fall from it...

We ran and hid all night until we reached the school... it was now morning but the light of day was hidden behind the smoke of war... the battle in the air continued and we are resting under a tree in the yard just outside the schoolyard where survivors have gathered... the wounded are left to rest and die under the trees...  I can hear people pray and cry and try to comfort each other... I hear fathers make up stories for their frightened children... but the explosions in the sky are getting closer and the ground quakes and trembles... the city begins to fall... and goes up in flames... I hear the sound of a plane falling from the sky... I look up and walk without noticing toward the school yard... the plane is about to fall on the crowd... the world goes silent... I breath in as it approaches...

I wake up.

Wind-Rider and the Ranger

a short story

(based on a dream)

I sauntered out of the woods... there was nowhere to be and no rush to get there - as I saw it that day... I look up and the clouds look like they want to let loose a storm, but it is just another grey day without rain... and it will stay like this forever.  I see a man in old brown biker gear tinkering around with an old motorbike...  converted to a wind-rider - it hovers a couple of feet above the ground and hauls ass... but he is broke down... or just making adjustmenst... he looks very much out of place... he turns his head slowly - the way old  soldiers do when they know there is no threat... and looks me up and down... his eyes squint and he, very most subtly, begins to shake his head but stops and just goes back to what he was doing... I move closer - slowly...  He speaks...

“You come down from that mountain?”
“A few days ago”
“Any water back there?”
“What got trapped in a small tank  a bit up the rock... nice bike”
“She’s nice when she runs...” he looks at me and I move even closer to inspect his machine... he looks at me as if I was very much out of place... he pauses for a bit and looks down at his tools and inspects them... is he looking for a particular piece, is he merely contemplating the idea of them? He does not seem to be in any particular hurry nor does he seem to have a care in the world... he simply just is... there... in the moment... he picks up his tools one by one and carefully wipes them down with a dark red bandana and lays them back down on an old but thick piece of grey cloth... he speaks -

“heading any where in particular?”
“Patagonia”
“The Legion Colonies... that is a long ways away...( he chuckles) you might die before you get there... “ he looks me up and down again... and tilts his head a bit in confusion...

“You Legion or Ranger... you gotta be a Ranger... ain’t no Legionnaire been around this part of the world since the crusades... you lost amigo?”
“Ranger don’t get lost...”
“Outcast... eh amigo... I got ya’...”

He has a manner and way about him, in his speech and demeanor that brings to mind Sam Elliot - he has an old rustic and friendly and familiar quality... I like him immediately.

“You’re Tejano?” I inquire.
“I was - a long time ago...” he stares into his rag of tools looking for a memory - “a long time ago...”
“Where is the closest town?” I ask, interrupting his thoughts.

he gestures with his thumb behind him

“300 miles back that way... but you don’t want to go there... the women can’t cook or fuck worth a damn... but the Muhammads will do you like you was a drunk goat... best you stay out of there Ranger...”

I look to my right - up the road and ask what is up that way...

“Two days ride on the wind is a trading town called Junktown... those girls can fuck... if you have food or water... but they’re nasty and filthy and carry disease... you just go along in the direction you was going... straight ahead for about a week... you’ll find an old militia stronghold... they got law there and if you have trade skills they may let you behind the wall... on the other side of that mountain... you’ll find the sea... eventually... don’t know how you’ll get to Patagonia...”

“A week, huh...” I rub my chin and mentally calculate my water supply...

He finally stands up... and he is just a few inches taller than me... he packs up his tools in a saddle  bag and turns to me

“Got anything to trade, Ranger?”

I think - there is rabbit jerky and berries and a little water and paper.. And ink... matches and lighters and oil... and hard candy...

“I got candy...”

His eyes light up and he smile for the first time... “well doggie... got a water bottle...”
I sit my rucksack down and open it up grab a bottle from the side pocket and reach deep down in the main pocket for a plastic bag of Christmas candy... I hold the bag up for him and he takes it like a child would... he tries to stay cool and calm... but he is just too excited about the sweets to care...

“Bring that bottle over here boy...” he walks to the back of the wind-rider... and uncovers a humidifier... what that is - what we call them... is a small machine that harvests the humidity in the air and converts it to drinkable water - it works while the wind-rider is in motion... can give you a couple of gallons a day... I hand him the bottle and he fills it up...  He smiles at me... “picked this up from some Japper... got the hell out of the country day before it all went to fuck...”

“What do you hear about Japan?” I ask him eager to know if they are still strong and free...
“Well... I hear tell many of them got wiped out... but there’s so many of them you can’t really tell... they’ve closed themselves off again... but they ain’t suffering...” my bottle is full and he hands it to me... I take a small drink... fresh and pure... and cool... I smile and he laughs... and does not wait any longer.  He opens up the bag and pulls out a piece of candy and drops it into his mouth... he lets out a loud laugh...

“A week, you say...” and I look to the mountain in front of me
“Yup...” he reaches into the inside pocket of his coat and pulls out a silver box, it looks like a cigarette container... he flips it open... it is a most curious little object... a compass like trinket that also tells time and the day of the week... he finds North and points me in the direction of the camp and asks - “you ain’t no half-breed is ya?”
“I’m afraid I just might be”
“Well... don’t get caught with one of their women...”

He sees me admiring his trinket and hands it to me... “got that from an old dragon...”

I inspect this little machine - compass, chronograph... it tells the month and day of the week - it is silver and gold and it can be used as a sun dial... the circular parts turn and the hands move... I am curious to know how it works... but the clouds thunder... it’s not the sky... he turns around in the direction of the Muhammads... they're coming... he grabs his compass from my hands and jumps on the wind-rider... “run into the woods boy!” and he hauls ass out of there... leaving me alone... I run to the mountain... I run all day... until my heart and legs can’t take any more... a set down and lean back on a tree... and think about that wonderful little trinket that I held in my hands... what did he call it... what was it... I close my eyes and try to take it apart in my mind to learn how it could possibly work... and I fell asleep in the still and quiet forest.

A Magical Wonderful Thing

housed in a silver box, the inside

is made of gold with copper and

mother of pearl

The Sky Is Falling...

I have always had dreams I could never decipher or understand... since childhood... recently I have been tormented by dreams of wars and celestial invasions... of falling stars and crashing planes and holographic skies... I don’t understand them - but they are unsettling - I have begun to chronicle these strange dreams... in hopes it will help me to unravel its meaning...

“Two Planes and Chasing The Girl”
The Dream And The Memory



I just woke - and I feel I need to get this down as soon as possible

The Dream

I find myself in a small night club - first I believe it to be a club I would go to when I was a young man - but in my dream I realize that it is not - this dream  later turns into a memory for me... or it triggers a memory... and even stranger... the dream now feels like a memory...

There is a small concert going on in the club - a woman and her guitar - her name is ARA - it is pronounced (in the dream) Arrie - she is blonde - all the girls in this dream are blonde (?).
The club is inside an old warehouse - well, it looks like an old converted ware house on the inside but it is in-fact in the center of town - of this town - the main road leads right to the front entrance but this building sits on a corner (strange - but important, the club I thought I was in from my youth sat on a corner).

I am talking with a young girl - a blonde - who looks like someone I once  knew - now that I am awake and typing this - I know that all these girls in the dream I do actually know to be real people - I do know them some how from some where... they are real - I have seen them and they got stuck in this dream... The blonde girl I am talking to is nervous about her performance which is coming up in a couple of weeks at the club... she is a fan of ARA and wants to not make a fool of herself or be compared badly to ARA... I try to tell her that she will be fine... (I am now remembering that I do know this club - is it from another dream... or another memory...) The girl asks me how she can place an add in a local magazine - I do not remember the name of it - to announce that she will be performing at the club... I say to her - “Ask ARA - I think she owns it... It’s her magazine...” and the girl looks at me very strange...  ARA and a friend pass in front of us and go to a table close to the entrance... ARA looks like a teenage version of my friend Vita... but I have never seen the teenage version of my friend Vita... ARA is with another blonde girl... I tell the girl I am with to wait for me - I am going to go talk to ARA... the girl I just left - The singer... now reminds me of a girl named Kara - that I knew in High School.... strange... I am remembering the club having red bricks and dark wooden frames... I reach ARA but she is ignoring me... she pretends that she does not see me - her friend gets up to leave - ARA is sitting next to an older gentle man in a dark suit - he is not wearing a tie but does have a scarf tied around his neck... he is aloof... I can see that he is concentrating hard about some-thing and I stop to look at him for a while... In the dream I know this man... and I stop to look at him because I know him... I return my attention to ARA... she still ignores me... I turn to the gentleman... and he turns to look at me... and then goes back to his thoughts... another little blonde girl passes by handing out copies of the magazine... and asks me by name if I would like a copy... I say yes - I also remember this girl from reality - I want to say I went to school with her but I think it is from somewhere else... she hands me a copy of the magazine and I look at it  - the girl on the cover is the girl I was talking to earlier... I get a strange feeling and think - how did she get on the cover... I turn to look at the seated gentleman - he is looking right at me and then turns away - back to his thoughts... ARA finally acknowledges me and her friend returns... “oh.. hi, Victor...” she says - I say “ARA... look at this...” and I hand her the magazine... “Hideous...” she says... I get on one knee to be at eye level with her... and I look at the cover of the magazine - but know it has a picture of ARA on the cover - a black and white head-shot... her white blonde hair is falling in front of one eye...  I am a bit startled - because I know I saw a different cover... with the other girl... I am about to ask her about the magazine and her connection to it and who do I contact in order to take out some ad space... but I look up to the entrance... two big double doors... that are wide open - it is day time... I see the sky... a  squadron of fighter jets pass by... I look up at ARA - “Did you see that...” she is ignoring me again... I turn to look at the gentleman... he is deep in his trance... I turn back to the entrance because I can hear more jets... another squadron of fighter jets followed by a low flying commercial jet... something does not feel right and I run to the entrance I see another passenger jet flying very low and followed by another squadron of fighter jets... I grab one of the doors and turn to the crowd inside and yell hold on to something!!! - I know the commercial jets are going down... there is an explosion  and It knocks me to the floor...

I get up and run up the main street - remember the main street leads directly to the front door of the club... but I am now running on a dirt road with canals on both sides... like for irrigation... I look up just in time to see a commercial jet crash behind the club... another jet is shot down by the fighters and falls from the sky next to me... I fall to the ground... the plane is in the canal to my right - I am facing the club... this now starts to feel like a memory... in my dream - as if I have gone through this before... I begin to run to the jet to help if I can... but I am stopped by a troop of soldiers... they look like they have been in battle for a while... they stop me and keep me from helping telling me I will be arrested if I try to get involved - “arrested?” I said - “by what authority...?” - one soldier shoves his rifle into my chest... I run to the jet... but it is being pulled out by a big crane... I see it rolling in the water... the windows are blown out - all I see is darkness on the inside... I look and all I see is commercial planes being chased by fighter jets... but there is something else in the sky... I remember this as a memory - not a dream now... the soldiers march me back to the end of the road - to the club... I turn around and I see a city... an old city... the dirt road has now turned to the main street again... everyone  is standing outside of the club... I walk up to ARA... “That was strange wasn’t it... what brought those planes down... did we shoot them down...” - she ignores me for a few seconds then turns to me and says - “what are you talking about”   The first girl comes up to me... and I ask her if she saw any of that... but she does not know what I am talking about - she is happy to see me... and asks me to wait for her... she walks away and the girl that was handing out the magazines walks up to me and starts talking about ARA... but I am trying to remember everything I can about the jets... all the details of what just happened - ask this girl if she saw any of it - she does not know what I am talking about and I am not paying attention to anything she is saying... I said yes to something she said... and she throws her arms around me and kisses me... I feel her breast press against me - she was chesty... when she releases me from her kiss... I am confused - ARA and her friend are standing close to me and are both looking at me with shock... the first girl returns... and she is very happy... she hugs me and we begin to kiss passionately... I like it and she is getting turned on by it... she stops and says she will be back - I assume she is gathering her things and we are leaving - the chesty blond sees me and is now angry - she walks up to me and slaps me hard across the face and yells out - you said you were going home with me!!!!! very angry and begins to make a scene... she is acting like a spoiled child - the first girl comes back and is confused - chesty girl tells her what happened and the first girl runs away... down the street... I look up - the sky is clear... but wait... I know there is something up there - because I am starting to remember.... I run down the sidewalk chasing after the girl and I see a group of people dressed in green jackets and cloaks carrying bows and arrows they are walking to a small park... they are students from an international private school... I know this as a fact because I remember the uniforms... they usually wear blue and red but the Archers wear these green uniforms... at this point... I am remembering - not dreaming... it is the uniforms I think that trigger the memory... in fact in the dream I stop to look at them for a good long time to try to figure out where I know these kids from... I know in this reality that I know their school... I see the girl across the street... she is still running... she is chasing a little brown dog... I cross the street and continue my chase... I look back at the student archers... they are all looking at me... but then they all look up... I look up and the jets are back... I look forward but have lost the girl... I see the dog... it has gone into some ones yard and  into a small dog house.... I run to the dog house and look around - I see that the girl is now coming up the back driveway of the house on a bicycle... and is going to the garage which is separate from the house and further behind it close to the very edge of the property... I run to her... she has her back to me and is putting her bicycle away I reach out to touch her shoulder... I spin her around... it is not the girl - she is some one else... but I know her too... I apologize  - I thought you were some one else, I did not mean to startle you...

She says - I saw you running up the road - you did not scare me - I thought some one paid you to scare me and that you were just playing a joke...

That doesn’t make any sense to me - I say - I thought you were someone else she looks just like you... but looking at her I realize that they look very different... “she has a brown dog as well” I tell her... and the girl looks at me confused... at this point I am waking up from the dream when the girl looks at me confused... I can hear the world outside my window... and I hear planes in the sky - I look up... the jets are back... commercial planes and Fighter jets... but there is something else... above them... I know there is something else above them... I am remembering a war... it happened... something is causing the commercial jets to fall from the sky... and the fighter jets are helpless... and in some instances it is the fighter jets that are shooting down the commercial planes... but now I am awake and laying in bed... with my eyes wide open and remembering the night... the first night the jets began to fall from the sky... I can remember how the stars changed... they began to move... the chem-trails darkened the sky and the heavens disappeared... and the jets began to fall... I laid there awake listening to the sounds from outside my window and remembered all of this... this is not a dream and I know it never happened... is this insanity... a vision... a memory... of another time?

I am sitting here... and the memories of that first night are filling my head... what is happening...
This is not the first time... this has happened - that my dreams turn into memories - (that I go from dreaming to waking up remembering something that I know to be true... but also believing that has not happened)... but it is the most intense...

What do I do?

V. V.
4-3-2013

Post Script:

I just spoke with my mother - she say I told her about dreams of planes falling from the sky a year ago... I do remember those dreams... don’t remember telling my mother... but I do remember those dreams were more like memories... I remember waking from those dreams... I remember waking up and the dreams flowing into memories like this morning...

1970's BURNING SKY

I thought it  was real... the breeze felt real... the sounds echoed true... the smells lingered... the way they do in this realm... but... it was another dream...

The neighborhood felt familiar and I seemed to know my surroundings quite well... the long street I walked down the center of town to get to the office supply store was one that I had walked down many times... I knew the buildings to my left and the ones to my right... apartments and storefronts... and the cafes... the people that passed by were not strangers - even if I did not know them personally...

I enter the office supply store a bit upset to find that everything had been re-arranged... I was there to buy ink and pens and pencils and papers... but these items were usually in the very back of the store - and I rather enjoyed the walk to reach the very last isles... as it gave me time to browse the variety of goods around me... but now the items I required were right up front... the shelves were now also very short - top of the shelves reached  my chest and the inks and pens were on the very bottom... so one had to get down on your knees to inspect your choices...

I was down on one knee looking over some pens when a young blond girl walks down the isle... she makes eye contact with me and smiles... a wide happy smile... she is some one I know - in this dream and in reality... a recent acquaintance... a German girl in Chile... she walks right up to me and starts talking about her dance class... I don’t really know what the hell she is going on about as I am trying to chose my pens and ink... and do feel quite interrupted... but she goes on and on... showing me her dance moves... I try to humor her but continue with my pens... there is something odd about her though that I can not stop thinking about - now and in the dream - her clothes... her outfit looks a little bit from the 1970's... she wore a black body suit - not quite a cat-suit - with bell bottom legs and a red vest... and her hair was strait and looked very natural but her straight bangs seemed to not fit her at all... she says to me “Victor... look what I can do now...” and she proceeds to do the splits right in front of the colored pencil section of the isle - which for some reason I took offense to - she went from a straight upright position to going down on the ground in a very slow motion to sitting there with her lags spread as wide apart as she could get them and then laid on her back... and I have to say I was impressed and a bit turned on by the whole spectacle...  a voice from behind me yells out... “What are you doing?!” I turn to see two other girls walking to us... I know them as well another blonde and a brunette... the first thing I notice about them is that they both have the same hair cut as my little contortionist... and it is not until they have reached us that I begin to notice that all three of these girls are wearing the exact same outfit - each a different color - but the exact same style... the second blond was wearing a white body suit with a yellow vest and the brunette wore a blue body suit with a powder blue vest... they looked like a girl band from the seventies... at this point, in the dream, I know I am dreaming and think it is funny and want to see where this leads... the second blond in the white suit begins to lecture the first blond about showing me the secret positions...???... show me more I remember thinking... as the blonds began to argue about what is allowed and what is not, the brunette just looked at my with sadness in her eyes - I wanted to ask her what was wrong but I knew this would be a bad idea... she tries to smile but her eyes keep filling with tears... the second blond grabs the first by the hand and hurries away out of the store the brunette follows but stops very quickly to turn to me and whisper... “stay away from them... they’re crazy...” she turns to run after them and stops again... she turns to me and says - “Victor... help me...” she is crying and runs off to catch up with the other two...

“What was all that about?” says the voice next to me- it’s Jan Ryder... but he is supposed to be on the other side of the world... he’s wearing a blue jump suit... no its like a leisure suit... from the seventies... what are you wearing - I ask him... and he says to me - what are you wearing? And I see for the first time that I am wearing the same suite only mine is a lighter shade of blue... he wants to know why I am hanging out with the girls from the cult... “the cult???”   I look at him and ask in shock - “That was the CULT???”
“Yeah... you got to stay away from them Victor... you know that”
“But... one of them is in trouble...”
“They’re all in trouble... those poor dumb bitches...”
“Are you ready?”

I grab a hand-full of pens and a couple of bottles of ink - I don’t even look to see what I am grabbing... we walk to the register and I notice that everyone is dressed in clothing from the 1970's... after paying for my merchandise and right before we walk out of the store I say to Jan - “some thing’s not right here...” to which he replies - “it never is...”

We walk out of the store and go in the direction in which I came but turn left at the corner where the store sits and walk up a road were the buildings are getting to be further separated and I can see that we are heading to a more rural area... a strange box looking van drives up the road and stops beside us - Jan says he needs to go make a deal with this guy and walks to talk to him - the van is a box and the front is completely mad of glass - the driver is sitting behind a desk and I can see filing cabinets behind him - it looks like a half office half van... very weird... Jan came back to me and the first thing he say is - “You have to be very careful Victor...”

I just look at him - he turns to me and smiles...

I hear a voice in my head - it says - have you seen the devil lately... and I look around to see if there is anyone else around... we are now walking down a country road with trees on both side of us... to the left there is a small shop with one of those boxy vans in front and there is a girl sitting behind the drivers desk... Jan says - “I’d like to get her into the cult...” with a laugh... I laugh too.

“Look at this...” someone says... in front of us there is a tree and hanging from the branches is a man in a flight suit that is burnt and sticking to half his body... he is black and covered in ash... he is half naked and dangling upside down... his hair is blond and dirty... we run to the tree and help him down - he is a bit confused about where he is but able to explain what happened -

“I lost power... all the electrics shut off and I began to spiral... I could not control the stick we shut down and  began to fall from the sky... something hit me... a wave... a pulse... like I flew into a wave in the ocean... it flipped the jet... and I tumbled down...”

“Where’s the jet...” I asked

It was on the other side of the tree - which we did not see before but was now there... a fighter jet, dark blue, with round curves - it looked more like a car from the forties with those curves... but it was very elegant for a fighter jet... the girl that was siting in the boxy van in front of the shop runs to us screaming... the pilot looks up and says - it’s starting again... we all look up...

The sky is blue and peaceful... just as the sun begins to sit... and the green flashes of light begin... first a flash of green-white light then it ripples out to form a circle wave... the planes fall... some flashes look like fire works... the planes fall from the sky... but I know there is something else up in the sky... there is something behind that screen... when the pilot said - “it’s starting again” I woke up from the dream... I was laying there remembering the flashes and the sky and the planes tumbling down... but I was wide awake remembering the scene in my head... there is something else in the sky...  The sky is not real... it is a screen... something else is projecting the image I am looking at - but the planes that are falling are real... the planes that are falling are real...

V. V.

Nov. 11, 2013

This moment we find ourselves in...

For a brief moment I drift off into a dream... I float like a phantom from a lost reel of a Fritz Lang film, down an abandoned hallway, passing suites named after dead artists with do not disturb signs hanging on the doors like tombstones in a field of fallen soldiers ambushed by the conquering armies of love and lust and an assortment of deadly desires... I tumble down the stairs into the lobby avoiding bell hops and chambermaids and lost travelers... in my own spiritual hopscotch... I skip and I duck... and I pause just in time to catch two lovers in an embrace that can only qualify them as cheating spouses on a scheduled rendezvous... I skip and I duck and pause at the revolving entrance... a brass and glass merry-go-round... ever coming and going from our dream world to the chaos that is the reality waiting for us outside the Charlie Chaplin suite... I watch a fire engine roll by but the wale of its siren echoes at a distance... my heart begins to race... another red engine streaks past me in a blur followed by an ambulance... my heart pounds... don’t let me die in a dream... surrounded by strangers... I hear a voice over the lobby intercom... It’s not God... the concierge is paging some one... It is your voice... calling to me... whispering to me... it drowns out the hum... that hum you can’t hear... that follows me everywhere... that strange electric hum that seems to come from nowhere... and I think I must be dying... if I am finally free of the hum... but then I feel your hands pressing down on my chest as if you were trying to keep me from leaving my body... I open my eyes to find you hovering above me like a phantom from some lost movie reel... you stare at me with fear in your eyes... “I don’t want to lose you...” you whisper with a trembling in your voice that I have never heard before... you close your eyes and bury your head in my chest... for a moment... I don’t know where I am... I don’t know who you are... and you kiss me... you kiss me... slower than you have kissed me before... with a tenderness I have never felt from any lover... you bring your hands up slowly to my face and embrace it delicately... as if you held a Faberge egg between your fingers... it feels like snow flakes melting on my skin... it tingles and melts into my cheeks. I try to calm the chaotic voices in my head but it feels like it will explode... My head spins and it is getting harder to breath... My memory drifts to a summer long ago in Mexico when I got caught by a strong current in a muddy river when I was very young... how I was pulled down into the water and how I crawled my way back up... I remember how I tried to yell for help but not able to make any sound ass the dark water would only fill my lungs and take me under again... I don’t know how I made it to the side of the river... somehow I made it to safety... I remember chasing my fathers voice... I remember opening my eyes and feeling lost and alone and wondering if anyone knows I am gone... they found me that night sleeping under a bridge... I take a deep breath and you release a long sensual sigh into my mouth... a take it in... and I let it out... I take it in... and I let it out... I breath in deep and I can taste your kiss... a mixture of wine and pastries... “come back to me...” I hear a voice whisper... “come back to me...” my hearing fades in and out but I can feel the blood as it races past my eardrums - pounding out some Morse code that I cannot decipher... my eyes focus from the darkness of my dreams as if I am stepping out of a limousine into a street filled with the flashing lights of the paparazzi... I see you now... you are crying and you are trembling... I can see your lips move but the voice I hear is not yours... for a moment... again... I don’t know who you are... I don’t know where I am... down the hall way I hear my fathers voice... singing the songs of his youth... I hear him call me... I wake up... you fall on top of me shaking like a rabbit in the winter snow... crying the way I have never known a woman could cry... “don’t ever do that again...” you whisper in between sobs... I want to put my arms around you to comfort you... but I can’t feel them... my fingers are heavy... my shoulders are unfamiliar to me... “Rebecca...” I almost call you by another name... but the smell of your skin is undeniable... I could find you in the darkest ally of hell... “get off me...” Like a rabbit chasing a butterfly you jump to the side... I follow you with my eyes as they are the only part of my body that I can move... before I can ask what happened you shake your head and put your hands on me once again... you wipe the perspiration and the tears off my chest... “what do you remember?” you ask
I look up at the ceiling “floating... drowning... drifting... in and out...”
“You stopped breathing...”
I close my eyes...
I think of Carmen...
I hear the hum... that strange electric hum that the people around me don’t seem to hear...
You lay down next to me and rest your head on my chest... I want to tell you... all my secrets... But my mouth is dry and my lips want to call you by another name... “Rebecca...” I whisper... you bring a finger to my lips to silence me...
We stay like this all night... both of us too frightened to close our eyes... too frightened we might not recognize one another should we stumble into the others dream... too frightened to lose this moment we find ourselves in...