Hedge invited us to use symbols in our poetry and gave us a list of words-we must use five words from her list.
""Our soul, as our body, is composed of all elements that have existed in the lineage of our ancestors. The "new" in the individual soul is are combination, infinitely varied, of extremely old components " - C. G. Jung
| C.G. Jung, frontispiece, 1964 edition, Man and His Symbols |
The Challenge:
“Words are animals, alive with a will of their own”
―C.G. Jung
“Words are animals, alive with a will of their own”
―C.G. Jung
Now, without any further incursions into the world of psychoanalysis and its complexities and jargon on my part, I'd like us to attempt to dig into the world of mind and symbol, and write about something that comes from 'under the hood' of our conscious thought process. The piece should deal with the world of dreams, the mind, symbols or the unconscious. It may retell an archetypal myth. It may be about a specific dream. It may be about sanity or madness, or it may explore and focus on any one or more of the symbols shown in these pictures or on a personally meaningful one.
COSMIC CURTAIN
fragile whispers
curl like leaves
under the chess table
an anchored angel
has dipped her wings
in indigo wine
I stay afloat
my head bobbing in cool blue velvet
- I jump
cryptic keys like skeleton fingers
drip gray chimes on my brow
inkling-I'm never alone
sinking inward
my wheel moves
married thoughts
spinning oscillated threads
I weave pale pink
edges into my art
the polished mirror
mocks me-
my collective game.
Beyond the looking glass
my rain coat drips a puddle of ink
I spin n' twirl
my boundaries fragile
faded Honeysuckle perfume
and Apple Jack tobacco visits
instilled crow eyes lurk
watching my boundaries
a fragile veil
moves as the cosmic filter opens
ivories are tickled
and play happy boundaries
years appear in
-oscillating film clips
a parade of collective smiles, nods and frowns
frozen in sepia petals
my dream floats onto a page
I see dashes and dots
zigzag memories
hover
I stitch golden threads
Cloud People watch
their silver smiles glide
into my day-as I
wake.
©Ellen Wilson
curl like leaves
under the chess table
an anchored angel
has dipped her wings
in indigo wine
I stay afloat
my head bobbing in cool blue velvet
- I jump
cryptic keys like skeleton fingers
drip gray chimes on my brow
inkling-I'm never alone
sinking inward
my wheel moves
married thoughts
spinning oscillated threads
I weave pale pink
edges into my art
the polished mirror
mocks me-
my collective game.
Beyond the looking glass
my rain coat drips a puddle of ink
I spin n' twirl
my boundaries fragile
faded Honeysuckle perfume
and Apple Jack tobacco visits
instilled crow eyes lurk
watching my boundaries
a fragile veil
moves as the cosmic filter opens
ivories are tickled
and play happy boundaries
years appear in
-oscillating film clips
a parade of collective smiles, nods and frowns
frozen in sepia petals
my dream floats onto a page
I see dashes and dots
zigzag memories
hover
I stitch golden threads
Cloud People watch
their silver smiles glide
into my day-as I
wake.
©Ellen Wilson
Comments
These were my favourite lines:
Beyond the looking glass
my rain coat drips a puddle of ink..
Kerry-Thank you! I struggled with my dream-a bit! There have been so many epic and beautiful poems-from this challenge~ You are kind!
Susie-Thank you! Yes, the Cloud People helped me out on this one-lol.
Brian-Thank you! Yes, I need some cleansing rain-don't we all-winter has been a bear!
"..my dream floats onto a page
I see dashes and dots
zigzag memories
hover
I stitch golden threads
Cloud People watch
their silver smiles glide
into my day-as I
wake..."
Just gorgeous. Thanks so much for participating.