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Steel Jackdaw

Writer: Isabel del RioIsabel del Rio

My poem and image about dreams, 'It is said', have just been published in the latest edition of the outstanding arts magazine Steel Jackdaw (pages 39 and 40):


It is said that dreams are never new

but are created out of memories no longer loved,

recollections that must be discarded as oddments

to make room for the latest events:


despite the despair you felt for so long in your job, you persistently

dream that you go back, your desk bursting with unsolvable

tasks, toxic air around your office space, grey corridors

conducive to nowhere, unfeeling colleagues


It is said that in dreams most narratives take place where you used to live, always

the same house though with a different façade and outlandish

rooms, surrounded by people you are supposed to know but

have never seen before:


my dead father dying once again as if this time it could be avoided, my dead

mother telling me the funniest jokes which in life she

was never good at, my dear dead friends claiming they are upset

that they were taken away well before me


It is said, by way of explanation, that dreams are accounts of recent experiences

blending randomly with excerpts from earlier tales. And when awake,

you cannot but interpret them, marvelling at the imagery and trying

to unravel the plotlines, as you would with any good book:


interminable tube lines taking you to places from which there is no

return, leaving behind stations with ludicrous names, more so

as the train proceeds: muddled letters, puzzling words, threatening messages

telling you that the end can happen any time soon


It is said that in your dreams you will climb steep buildings with no harness

and no net, descend into total darkness without any source of light, relive

the saddest episodes as joyful stories and the comedic as tragic,

experience the fantastical and envision the impossible:


dreams emulating a life lived in fragments, like cracked mirrors

echoing a shattered self. No, there was not enough time to dream

for too long or too convincingly. And yet dreams are the only possession

of ours that will survive, it is said



 
 
 

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