Contradictory Abstract Nouns (Photography Challenge)
Today I’m looking at the dream in reality and reality in a dream.
I found a fun quote for today in The Aspiring Poet’s Journal by Bernard Friot:
“Reality only reveals itself when it is illuminated by a ray of poetry.” ~Georges Braque
Georges Braque was a Fauvist and Cubist painter of still lifes. A ray of poetry sounds like a dream image that reveals reality, thus the reality in the illumination of a dream. Do I want to attempt some cubism today a la Georges Braque? The experiment is how to create the curves and lines to create an impression of cubism.
Today’s prompt for some stream of consciousness writing is “on your/my plate.“
I feel like there is always too much on my plate. But no one puts anything on it but me. Why do I continue to find things to pile on top, when it was already comfortably full? Because my eyes are big, much bigger than my stomach, and everything looks so delicious. When one sees flavor in everything, it’s easy to want a little, or a lot, of each. And when I have cut and chewed, and stabbed and shoveled down to revealing part of the pattern of the plate, a blue petal, the head of a partridge, the blue feather on the speckled beige background, do I celebrate, the accomplishment, rest and admire? No. I fill it right back up. I cover that space with new and exciting spicy explorations, and then pile on some more. Perhaps that’s why I’m never sated, because I never give myself a moment to digest. I guess I like how the colors and flavors combine, the surprises I find when I let it all mingle for a while. Finding something greater than the sum of its parts.
I love putting every color on the plate: the white rice with black beans, red and yellow peppers, orange carrots, green broccoli and spinach, blue and purple cabbage, a full spectrum of flavors for the eyes, mouth, nose, and tongue. The sound of utensils on plates, the chewing and crunching flavors for the ears. Does the plate make a difference. If I filled a different plate would the results, the experience change? If I filled several plates instead of heaping, and heaping on one, would that be better or worse?
Today’s prompt is to write an “on second thought” poem.
Is this the Dream or the Reality?
Roaming through a gothic castle on a holodeck, I’m suddenly afraid, digging in a field
on second thought I could be delirious
I cried when found bare after my deflector cape got stuck in glue
on second thought that’s how things are
The screech owl claws at my implant in the wind, but it can’t be fixed
on second thought I could be moonstruck
I recovered my snare drum with regenerated skin, but wove my beats to conceal the goose bumps
on second thought that’s the name of the game
I enjoyed kicking flesh-pods after subduing them with feedback from my microphone
on second thought I could have made it all up
In artificial gravity, feeling a bump during the witching hour is blown out of proportion
on second thought that’s the nuts and bolts of it
In the slipstream I slurp soup from a baked hollow
on second thought that’s the way of it
The imp at the door confessed to jumping through the singularity
on second thought I could be building castles in the air
My neck began to bleed when I saw the object in the interplanetary campfire
on second thought I could be having a nightmare
Roaming through my gothic castle, I see friends I haven’t seen for years
on second thought I see it like it is