Can of dreams

My response to Jennifer Knoblock’s poem in response to the MoonArk article. Link to the article on Jennifer’s page.

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A can of dreams washed up in pale, dry dust,

Among motionless shreds of unshed moonlight,

Filled with tiny drops of blood and words,

Images and oh so dearly crafted outpourings.

Who will leave their prints to over-pattern,

Obliterate the spider prints of wordy, worthy poets,

The colour-collaged dapplings of artistic souls?

The slender, sophisticated fingers of our hopes,

Gentle and wise, our saviours from the great beyond?

Or the coarse paw of some cosmic Hun,

Standing triumphant on the useless, sacred moon rock,

Gazing upon our tender, teeming, rudderless blue,

And crushing our flimsy can of dreams,

In an all too familiar barbaric fist?

Published by

Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

10 thoughts on “Can of dreams”

  1. On those days when I wake up on the wrong side of the bed, I would go with the “cosmic Hun.”

    A quite splendid poem mixing the contrasting views of ‘the human (artistic) condition.’

  2. Oh my goodness, you paint such a gorgeous and reverent picture of the artistic work. Our poor crushed can of dreams…we’ll just have to make another.

      1. If only he would look inside, first! He might find just the thing to tame his savageness. ๐Ÿ™‚

  3. What if there are more enlightened forms of life out there? Recently I read a Stephen Hawking quote to the effect that hostility or aggression is a real possibility..I guess it is but… Anyway I really am fascinated by your poem and Jennifer’s poem and the article it stemmed from.

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