The Pen Is Not Mightier

Out of Line

Zeno had a vision in primary colors, not a dream. It occurred a few days before he was due to be sentenced to the minimum security federal penitentiary at Lompoc, California. The horse trading had concluded and the deal was done. He whinnied like a lame also-ran. The government took everything he owned and sent him to jail for baking delicious cookies, cupcakes, and all-natural granola. Not even his collection of lucky pennies inherited from Joe Avirgan was spared. The judge with the porky snout explained how fortunate he was to get such a good deal. Reliable waves from the Pacific Ocean he would never get to hear or feel for the duration were only a mile away. In a Texas prison, he’d be serving twenty years with scorpions. His coupled lawyers made out like bandits as they heartily shook his hand and slipped him dead skin. The dream was…

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Joseph Joestar’s Military Training In Italy?

John Jr's Blog

Source: Wikipedia.org

I went to bed very late last night and I woke up late this morning and I did not voice record my dreams during that time, and so now I can barely remember part of my last dream from last night which was confusing and unclear.

The dream seemed to be inspired by me watching several Japanese anime (animated) television shows on Cartoon Networks’sAdult SwimToonami lineup, and this dream involved parts of a Japanese anime television show season of JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure that ended last week called JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure (Season 1) (Battle Tendency).

All that I can remember of this dream from last night is that it involved the animated character Joseph Joestar from the Japanese anime television show JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure (Season 1) (Battle Tendency) , the military, military education and training, Italy, the Italian language, military vehicles, what looked like the side…

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underworld, allies, jung, and the seagull…

what are dreams made of

yaskhan

A megrim crocheted in a whimsical fantasy
The manifestation of subconscious mind in sleep
Taking over from conscious speculation of day time
A break from reality, releasing the tired mind
As delusions, aberrations wear out the day.

An expression of wish, that one unconsciously wants
A phantasm of imagination to look forward
Clouding the night vision with vagaries, whims that unfold
From the deep recesses of the mind, illusions unveil
Hopes, aspirations, that refuse to go away, surface..

In the comatose state of the physique, quiescent visions
Dormant yearnings spill forth in this soporific state
The body in opiate mode, the brain ebullient

Dreams are beacons of optimism, soul’s breath..

#Quatorzaine

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My Brother CC Gets A Job Burying Bodies?

John Jr's Blog

Source: Wikimedia Commons

I am not sure how many dreams these are from last night so I will type them as two dreams, there were too many details and I do not feel like spending all night typing everything, and so I will try to shorten the details if I can to maybe an overview if I am lucky.

For the second night in a row one of these dreams involved burial, which is strange and interesting, and so I looked up what one dream dictionary had to say about: burial.

Dream 1

All that I can remember of this dream from last night is that it was day and I was possibly with a group of people (maybe a school or college or some kind of group) and maybe some of my family, and we were possibly touring some locals businesses that were owned by a family led…

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ladybug landings and longing from the dead…

So What: The Prologue of a Dream

Poems

So what, if no one is
paying heed to our unequivocal words,
in solitude we have
a chance to listen to the universe!
And trust me I swear, it is
a far more skilled partner in dialogue,
despite what we have been taught
or customs that might have come in vogue
of late, with well patronized galas,
awards and ceremonies,
often so many that
certain ignorance rather tastes like bliss!

But we wage war instead and fight
against the received social norms
to overthrow the tyranny
of tribalism’s established ways!

Yes we know, change too often comes,
riding on the meaninglessness
of shed human blood and too many lives
and revolutions, too often as well,
end up flattened beneath a guillotine.

Still, if we don’t suffer and grow
to be its fearless harbingers,
like a Winter is of the Spring,
the children of Eve and Adam,
cave dwellers for eternity,

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