theMesh » Träume

Heute in der Tram

sicarius — Thu, 14 Jan 2010 23:44:24 +0000

Er: "Ich träume von bösen.."
Sie: "Immer?"
Er: "Ja"
Er: "..und ich träume von guten.."

Cave

sicarius — Sat, 21 Nov 2009 01:28:34 +0000

I wanted to live in a cave.
The warmth around you - so close.
The darkness - I wanted to be a creature of the night.
I could have my cave facing west,
to have a beautiful sunset introducing each new day.
I'd like to make the moon my goddess,
and I'd celebrate new moon with a giant fire of silver firs,
having my dreameater dancing around trough fire and fog,
as I'd softly whisper "Chaos is beauty".
I always thought that I'd once join the sparks of a giant fire on their way to the firmament.
My senses could be filled with different odors of earth,
dying leaves,
grass and resin.
I'd paint the stones with the blood of each meal,
with secret symbols and dreams.
I'd paint a deamon head perhaps.
And all of a sudden you could stand next to my door,
lying heaven underneath my feet.
You might make me discover that I'll never need another goddess but chaos and love,
and perhaps I'd even learn something on occasion.
I said I'd rarely dream when I was asleep.
I wasn't asleep, but I dreamed.
I dreamed of beauty - we were creatures of the night, living in a cave.

Caressing the surface..

sicarius — Sun, 07 Dec 2008 20:17:17 +0000

Somehow i found the time of year fitting it..
It started just with the title, then grew larger while writing it.

My hands softly touching a wall made of black stones.
Leaning against this wall my body slowly slides down.
Legs that will no longer bear what was brought to me by cold winter winds.
Becoming aware that the ground under my feet is made from ice
- so clear, i can easily see my own shape mirrored on it's cold surface.
Underneath the ice, figures dancing to music played by a violin.
My fingernails clasping into the ice, trying to hold those figures inside my hand.
Unexspectet warmth inside my hand, as blood sets free underneath my fingernails,
and slowly my hand gets closer to this vision of dancing happyness.
After a while my fingers got a boulder of ice carved out of that glassy surface.
Wiping of some crumps from it, I discover a couple entwined inside of it, and next to them
I could see the grim reaper himself, his scythe leaning on a wall,
a violin in his hands.
Etearnity loves the moment, the woman whispers,
and in that moment a tear fell down from my eye to that could boulder,
burning a smoth hole into it, filling it to it's borders.
Just when the tear touched the boulder, the couple opend their eyes,
starting to move in circles slowly and the violin started to play a melody
soft-hearted and wild.
The more the puddle of my tear congealed,
the more hushed the violin sounded.
When i could no longer tell the difference
between this tear and the ice surrounding it,
I noticed that the couple had closed it eyes again, entwined,
with a slight smile underneath there brows and a kiss on their lips,
whereas the reaper had switched his violin for his scythe.
As the Blood from my fingers moved into the boulder,
I could see the couple kneeling down before the reaper humble,
but not supplicating the awaited eternity to enclose them in warm, dark arms.
Home. When the Reaper started to move, the boulder seemed so filled with warm blood,
that it would almost burst. I could no longer spot anything inside it,
and it got warmer and warmer, until i could no longer hold it.
When it fell back into the Hole i took it from,
it looked as if a sun would rise from the ground.
The mirror-like, glassy surface of the ice was filled with warm light,
and from the ground a blossom - to beautiful to describe - grew towards the sky.
I felt somethin tickeling my nose, and with a smile on my face I opened my eyes
to see a butterfly sitting on it.
With just one flap of it's wings it blew away my dream,
with it's soft caress it took me back to the surface.

Calling you, my dreameater

sicarius — Thu, 30 Oct 2008 22:57:40 +0000

This one written to the hero of my childtime nightmares..
Look at the source..

When I remember you, there is always a slight of relief within me.
In long, dark nights when i was surrounded by my innermost enemies,
trapped on a plane of endless loneliness with demons and wolves hunting me,
you've been the one who saved me. You - a cruel fighting nightmare yourself.
In your hands fork and knife became powerful weapons each night guided by an artist of cruelty.
Your knife is made of horn - the horn of hordes of devils you banned with the pure strength of your will.
Fast as lightning you sever my demons, just to pick them up
with your crystal made fork - a one that never runs dirty and is just as precise as you want it to be.
With each nightmare you released me from, you grew stronger.
You are my shield, my defense.
You tought me that the world is made of dreams and showed me how to control them,
so that i would live my dreams without dying when they fall.
You are my dreameater, the one that always makes space for me,
my course and my salvation, you depend on my dreams to survive,
just like i depend on you to protect me from my destructive fires.
As a symbol of reincarnation we dance in eternal circles,
an eternity on our own. Every thought, every moment is painted in the world around us,
reflecting in our eyes. And the deeper i look into your beloved eyes,
the more i fall into your arms until i realize that it's just my eyes i see in yours
- the reflection of my birthplace, my grave. We dance on towards the horizon,
a soft wall of warm light called tomorrow, when i realize that we've been one all the time.
And so there's always a slight smile on my face when i see a leave falling in autumn -
I know, that the next spring will bring new leafs - the spirit has always been the same,
ageless like all ideas, breaking through as individuals each spring and going home each winternight.

AngelsWings

isabbelnich — Fri, 15 Aug 2008 23:56:18 +0000

jaja ich nerve ich weiß...war Matzes idee des zu posten...

sometimes I want to have angelswings...
then i could fly away...
like my dreams...

a long time ago i had my dreams...
could dream the hole day...
I dreamed my own world...
this world was so quite...
and nice...
it was a good world without war...
and filled with love...
your love...

I wish i had angelswings...
wanted to fly to you...
to show you...
that i love you...
to be at your side if you need me...
to tell you all these words...
I had never spoken...
to save you from tears...
to save you from this world...
hope you would forgive me my defaults...

I need this wings...
to fly away from all this pain...
we have on earth...
to take you far away...
into the land of dreams...

want to be your angel...
wanted to save your live...
I'm a fallen angel...
fallen from the sky to love you...
to be your love...
and your death???

love you...
dream this wings for me...

Black Feathers..

sicarius — Mon, 28 Jan 2008 22:54:48 +0000

Kleines Stückchen, diesmal auf Englisch..

When black feathers fall,
and the leaves that are green,
turn to brown,
the day, that night, the bird of death,
will die, has arrived..
The stars have vanished,
and the dragon of time awoke, to see the dawn
of a new century.
And in the upcomming light,
we walk trough the graveyard of dreams.
And you question me: "Where do you go?".
My answer was simply: "Where I want to?".
But in your heart you knew, that nowhere was now here..
And as we walked past our beloved bridge to nowhere,
we saw a sake lying in the middle.
In the middle of that bridge to nowhere,
in a spot of silence and light in the darkness.
And about that place i will always say to you:
"Angels are born in a sake,
from death arises what brings the warm fire to the living ones,
to ease their pain. Because in live they see the only thing left,
that they can't hold: the ability to fail".

In Gedanken an alte Träume

sicarius — Sun, 04 Nov 2007 19:55:52 +0000

Hm, was schreibe ich hier hin ?
Keinen Plan.. Irgendwas seltsames wohl..

Oh, wie du Schmerzen spürst.
Wie die Geister deiner zersplitterten Träume
jeden deiner Schritte verfolgen wollen.
Wie du gewünscht hast, wie du ein Gott, ein Teufel sein wolltest,
und wie du doch die Macht bei dir nicht wolltest.
Wie erstaunt du bist,
dass die Erinnerung noch so lebhaft in dir aufsteigen kann,
dass du immer aufs neue Schmerzen empfinden kannst.
Und wie du in der Liebe auf dein Leben und die Erinnerung
immer wieder in diesen dunklen Schmerzen badest,
weil sie dir zeigen, dass du am Leben bist.
Wie du dich darüber wunderst, dass das,
was du losgelassen hast, dir nicht egal ist,
und wie du doch immer wusstest,
dass Dinge, die einst geliebt nie egal sein würden.
Wie du dich danach sehnen willst,
Worte zu sprechen, die zeigen wollen,
was passiert ist, Worte, die wissen wollen,
und wie du dich dennoch fürchtest.
Wie widersprüchlich du doch manchmal bist,
wie unruhig, und wie du dennoch klare Linien ziehst,
auf deinen Wegen.

glänzendes Auge

sicarius — Mon, 17 Sep 2007 20:03:11 +0000

Mal wieder ein weniges an seltsameren Kram..

Die da sind ohne Hoffnung .
worauf schauen sie?
Die da nicht mehr weiter wissen,
was tun sie?
Sie lächeln.
Sie lächeln mit Leichtigkeit,
lächeln, um nicht sterben zu müssen,
ohne gelebt zu haben.
Sie halten Einzug, in die heimatlichen Gefilde ihrer Träume.
Und hast du gesehen, wie sie ihrer Wege ziehen?
Hast du gesehen, wie einsam sie sind,
und doch - wie leicht?
Hast du gesehen, wie sie lächeln,
und wie ihre Augen glänzen - mit ganzer Kraft?
Sie haben, wonach die Menschen trachten.
Sie, die sie die Ärmsten sind, fanden die Zufriedenheit.
Sie müssen die Welt nicht verstehen, sie träumen sie schon.
In ihrer Welt sterben sie nicht - sie wachen auf.

Irischer Segenswunsch

sicarius — Tue, 13 Mar 2007 20:21:17 +0000

Etwas, das mich persöhnlich anspricht:

Lebe in Frieden
mit Gott.

Und was
auch immer
deine Mühen
und Träume sind
in der lärmenden
Verwirrung
des Lebens -

halte Frieden
mit deiner
eigenen Seele.

Alle Wahnsinnig …

sicarius — Wed, 31 Jan 2007 23:00:41 +0000

Nach dem Aufwachen: seltsamer Kopf. Ich hatte geträumt.. irgendwas mit blauen Affen, die auf fliegenden Krokodilen ritten, und mit Orangenfett warfen.. Vieleicht liegt es auch nur am Versargen meiner Vernunft. Naja, vieleicht sollte ich auch einfach mal wieder ein Gedicht aufsargen, oder wollt ihr mir sargen, was los ist ? Eine klare Ansarge wäre schon genug, wenn sie denn nur aussargekräftig genug ist. Irgendwie sargenhaft, oder ?