Sometimes our dreams we share
strange to walk about
inside your dreams
sometimes I invite you
into my dreams
acting the part of a friend
or lost lover
coming into my dreams
as an assassin
a clown with a bouquet of balloons
a madman wielding a hatchet
acting the part of a Guru
sent with a message
from the otherside
a demon sent to sidetrack me
an angel sent to guide me
or you are just a bit player
an extra a spear carrier
adding colour to my own little opera-

Sometimes I stand at the threshold
of my dreams or yours
operating one of the cameras
saving these visions seen in dreams-

We journey back & forth
sampling the dreams of others
sharing their fear & their joy
finding adventure as we travel
through an unknown world
the landscape dotted
by their private symbols
wandering around searching
for clues of signposts
of archetypes to give us our bearings
no longer lost in the wilderness
no longer lost at sea-

This is our dream time
searching for a Shaman
to heal our dreams
to remove the weight of our burdens
of the past & future off of us-

Sometimes I am the prey you hunt down
Sometimes I hunt you down
in our dreams-

Sometimes I sneak into your dreams
to bring you pain
to sabotage the prepared script
to create chaos
having become the destroyer of dreams
having become the stealer of dreams
stealing your elaborate visions
to stuff in a sack hidden
in a locked golden room
with a red door
deep in the pitch dark catacombs
of the Jumble Jar-

Sometimes in dreams finally finding love
murdering someone we hate
or someone we love too much-

Even in our dreams
we need to keep our eyes open
& watch your back
remembering nothing is
what it seems
sometimes things are just
what they seem-

Traffic Jam Inside The Jumble Jar  by Gordon Coombes

streaming through the jumble jar  rush hour traffic bumper to bumper  on a thousand lane highway  & the sign says merge  firing synaptic connections  reacting a world outside  a world created inside  from which I may wake  & the world I go to when I sleep  awakes with me  walking strolling along side streets  back alleyways & into dreamed images  the distinctions blurred  images becoming real  the ordinary turns about  faces itself drowned in the surreal  we watch the movie together  & we've written a part  for each of us  good guy or bad guy  some last to act 3 or the last reel  taking part in the celebrations  & the executions  others don't make it pass act 1  or the first reel of the film  a victory a wedding  a beheading a hanging  battle won battle lost  love won love lost  all the details taken care of  costumes designer sceneographer  music arranger cinematographer  special effects department  screenplay writer directors & producers  seamless from scene to scene  as intense as my dreams  from which I try to escape  only to slip away once more  into consciousness  into unconsciousness  rewiring my brain  leaving my mind trapped  by all this arbitrariness-

Enter supporting content here