The Missing Dream to Chip's Ghost
A specter turns a man's dream into a nightmare
A specter turns night into silliness
The Missing Dream (deteriorating poem)
A bed awaits the rest he’s due
And one more missing dream renew
From memories its power drew
Though every night its curse he knew
Sleep beckoned him what could he do
And even before his eyes close he heard its hateful voice
From pillow’s welcome set askew
What once was him his hopes cling to
But this seems to infuriate his nightly specter
Who heightens the score of its backdrop to draw him in
This fellow who faces his dew
What real harm could dreams bring says a vanishing voice
As darkness unknown consumes everything everything
Even the source of his terror is taken
As he kisses all else adieu
Then he feels the chains of his fear drawing him back
You are in our world again says the only voice he knows
There in the absence of an eternal instance
A heart that was true
You broke it in two
Here again we share the moment when she jumped to her death
At what point does a poem stop being a poem? This poem starts off as a regular poem, with rhymes and a meter. On the second stanza a line is introduced that neither rhymes nor has a meter. As the poem continues these formless lines take over. In the last stanza, as the poem is totally consumed by these formless lines. A small echo returns of what used to be. As it turns out, this echo also leads to the source of the nightmare.
A guilty conscience wasn't the source of my nightmares. It was my stepfather. He would beat me with leather belts, with sticks and other objects. He would throw me around and decorate the walls with my head, for the least offenses. Was I a bad kid? It is hard to tell when a big adult is constantly beating you and your mother does nothing to help you. I was 14 when my mother mysteriously left me and my two brothers and sister with this monster. It be a little over a year till I found my mother again. I had a chance to move in with her and her new husband. So I took it. The day I left my stepfather he got his leather belt and beat me. When I didn't cry, he did.
Two years later, my step father started showing up in my dreams. At first I simply ran away. Things changed when I decided to stand up to him. There was that belt. The brain is a powerful wonder. When he hit me, even though it was just a dream, it hurt. My best defense was to try and wake up. There was no telling when this monster wound invade my sleep. It wouldn't be until my 30's, with Arlene's help, that I finally took my step father's belt away. I haven't had a nightmare. any nightmares since.
Nightmares. Oh yes, I'm familiar with them. How to get rid of them, I am not qualified to tell anyone. I can share that books and doctors didn't help me. In the end, it was the love, patience and understanding of a wife that made me victorious, What was strange was that all nightmares stopped. As we are all aware, nightmares are not limited to sleep. You know what I'm talking about: that person, a spider, are my kids alright, how am I going to make ends meet. the boss wants to see me, the police lights, the fears, the angst. How do we survive them? How do we overcome them? I survived (even though it took a long time). All I can say is stay strong, whether by yourself or in the arms of a loved one. Stay strong and believe. And while our inner strength carries us through one more challenge, enjoy.
I think some fun nightmare music is fitting: London Music Works "Phantasm Main Theme"
Specters and ghosts come in many shapes and sizes and potato chip bags
It is estimated that Potato chips are American's favorite snack food. They are devoured at a rate of 1.2 billion pounds a year. This is enough to make March 14th Potato Chip Day. This might also where Chip came from. Not potato "chip", but Chip the ghost who lives in Ian Hecox's, of Smosh, closet. Join the boys as they solve Chip's mystery as Chip comes out of the closet.
Chip in all you want to chip away at Chip's chip on his shoulder. (That was pretty clever, I'd say.) "CHIPS GHOST"
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Why does the mind do such things?
Turn on us, rend us, dig the claws in.
If you get hungry enough, they say,
you start eating your own heart.
Maybe it's much the same.