Create a poem/song out of a dream (1 Viewer)

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Anna

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Create a poem/song out of a dream can be a fun and alternative way to express a dream in a dreamjournal or for just using dreams as an inspiration source for writing.
Sometimes we might have feelings, thought or visions lying latent which we feel not able to grasp or express. Then, using a dream and make a poem or song can be a catalyst for these hidden expressions as well as a way to also understand a dream better in the process of writing. I feel also that the poetic language can bring out aspects of ourselves in a different way than common language.

If you find it difficult to start to put words on the dream i have a few suggestions of how you can start.
Lets say that you had a dream about a green dragon sitting in a red couch. One way is to start to feel if there was a message from the dragon if that was not clear outspoken and write that down. If you cant grasp a feeling you can check the symbolic meaning of the dragon in various sites for inspiration. Maybe then a memory comes or also words that might not make sense like a silver spoon or a nose or anything. Just write it down and see what happens as even if it doesnt make sense at the moment it could make sense in the end.

You could go on with the couch and maybe a memory comes or you could write out of something that a couch could be related to, as perhaps something which is familiar, your comfortable zon or a place to rest and heal. The color could relate to the root chakra so it can be related to stability, finding ones roots, beeing close to the earth for example. Maybe you have a strong feeling what the message was but maybe not. In that case you could ask yourself: "If i knew the answer of the message what would that be". This could be a way to get i flow with fantasy and/or express a latent knowing.

Sometimes dreams can also be related to our shadow self, parts of ourselves that we might not want to see or need to heal and the dreams can also be unexpected. Meeting a dragon in a couch for example might be unexpected as we might picture them in different places. I could then start with the word unexpected meeting in a familiar place (the couch). I could go on with what happens then and use the same method as above.

Here is a poem out of a dream i had opening a window

Opening the window of the soul

Opening the window of the soul. Empty garden, empty space. Embrace that empty space, no fear.
Mysterious sounds and faces, full of grace.

We walk in light. Opening the window of the soul. The light within. You`ll feel your goal. You hear.

The calling from the stars. The stars rests in your face. Opening the window of the soul.

What remains in the end and here, the stars can trace.

Timeless streams of light fills our souls with bliss. And the hearts beats different those days. In the window of the one who feel, when its close.

If you have a poem or song written out of a dream you would like to share, feel free to do so here.
 

Laron

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I think this is an amazing concept and idea. Thank you Anna for starting this thread. I have bookmarked it using the forum bookmark feature so I won't forget it!

I have been recording my dreams sporadically over the past year. I don't have many of them and I have them written on my phone, in a journal and in a large notebook.

Some background for me. I interpret dreams and have been doing so for at least five years for people; it's one of my services I provide on my site listed in my signature. I only recently started charging. For about 3 years straight, back in 98, I recorded my dreams every night, some nights noting down five or six dreams, each lengthy — I became very good at recalling lots of detail. It was when I was practicing astral projection on a regular basis. I often had prophetic dreams, which is not uncommon if you actually take notice of your dreams. I became decent at interpreting them based on feedback from people.

From the 29th of December, 2017, not long ago, these are a combination of the first two dreams out of three I recalled after waking, the third being about a past partner cheating on me.

I have written a lot of poetry. It takes a long time and should be left for days, if not weeks and months before perfecting and completing, but here is one I just wrote tonight.


Sliced in two like the flesh of a blood orange —
spectacular and vibrant —
are the colors of his waistcloth and robes.
Exiting a structure after being confined for a week
the monks leave him and head to Laos.

Golden arches tower above as the spiritual leader swiftly enters.
The target of his journey is fries and a coke.
My laughter erupts like I had just got the joke.
Walking over and bending down, he leaves an item on the ground.

The urge is there to capture it in my galaxy.
The screen focuses on a lonesome yellow fruit.

A stadium crowd ignores me and another takes the limelight,
as I share the story of Tenzin and his hungry belly.

I’m on the web being educated about the Lama,
who’s been unable to project; but I can’t stop laughing —
the joke being about that banana.

Like I had left my body, suddenly I'm standing on a highway.
A vest sits on the ground which I pick up and pull on.
It’s labeled paramedic, I see.

With much effort I try to find someone, to pass the vest on,
but inside a building there is no one,
except children and nurses who surround me.
 
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Anna

Anna

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Thanks Laron for your answer and lovely poem.
I liked the expression of "Sliced in two like the flesh of a blood orange". It gave an interesting and lively start of the poem. It raised thoughts to me about different lifetimes and how they can relate in dreams(even though i do not know if this can relate to your poem) It was interesting that you put together three dreams in one poem if i got it right?
And also for ourselves, if we are able to recall many of the dreams in a certain time we might be able to understand the bigger picture/meaning more as also how certain dreams can be connected to past lives as well, giving the poem more content. I notice more and more, the relationship between dreams the more i focus on remembering.

Dreams,astral projection and writing belongs to my favorite areas and since i put my soul in learning and focus i had profetic dreams last years as well as remembering meetings with spirit animals in dreams since childhood. So far i have not attended a proper dream-school put my intention is to start in the nearest future learning in the school of Robert Moss which you might be familiar with which i am looking forward very much.

Nice to hear that you work with dream interpretation, something i intend to do in the future more. Life without dream interpretation is to me like living our daylight lives trying to catch answers with a feeling at the end of the day that something is left out.:)
 

Pucksterguy

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Great idea, Anne. Maybe it's something I need to work on. I have no trouble putting pen to paper to write out an idea or thought. It can come out almost eloquent and intelligible. But I must be part Vulcan. I can put out a thesis but I can't seem to put it into prose or lyrics. Interestingly (to me) I've never worked at it.
 
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Anna

Anna

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I understand what you mean Pucksterguy and sometimes i think when we shall do an attempt to put ideas into poems it can be helpful trying to catch the very essence of your ideas in a few words and work out from there with help from metaphors and perhaps rhymes can help sometimes to get in the flow. Looking forward for your poem:)
 

Lila

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Okay, here is what came when putting together in poem form a series of dreams over time. Some of it is quite unexpected, especially that last line!o_O

Ripped apart from horn to seat
Partner torn; left as meat
We journey on and find ourselves
Again, again and yet again

Here we are in times so cool
We get to heal those ancient scars
The stars, moon, sun help us do
What we ourselves could not quite get to

It's time! Ride out! Together again
We find each other in bliss
Meet again to kiss
Ourselves, each other, the sky

Higher and higher we fly
Didn't know we could
But remembered we would
So high we go when we die
 
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Anna

Anna

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What a nice poem Lila and interesting to put together many dreams, i was inspirated to do so. I like the last sentence "so high we go when we die". I imagine when we die we see things from a higher perspective, we are higher:) and as some scientists suggest, there is a relationship between released natural DMT as in dreams. Sometimes i like to think of life as just a preparation for to die. Thanks for your lovely poem<3
 

Lila

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the last sentence "so high we go when we die". I imagine when we die we see things from a higher perspective, we are higher:) and as some scientists suggest, there is a relationship between released natural DMT as in dreams.
Oooh, intriguing thought! I hadn't thought of it from that (high;)) perspective.

Sometimes i like to think of life as just a preparation for to die. Thanks for your lovely poem<3
Me too:-D
Specifically, something about choosing how/when/where/with whom/etc to die...
 
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Anna

Anna

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On the 11/11 last year in an astral dream i met two beings whom I think are connected mostly to Sirius. I wrote a poem of what happened. After the dream i noticed I had a painting I had done before that with their faces so my conclusion was that i channeled their energy before the dream as the looks was very similar to theirs as on the attached picture.

The Chrystal children

Walking away from the old world, of smokey eyes and grey. With confident steps, on a redbrown golden ground. The road so clear, there was no other way. I was alone, but i just couldn`t stay.

Wasn`t neither searching for a familar place to land. With confidents steps, on a redbrown golden ground, hearing their voice behind my back. Two beings took my hand.

We are the chrystal children and you are one of us. We`ll follow you in the new world, cause now it is the time. The time to get together and heal the world from fear.

They said that they were children, the tallest i have seen. They smiled while they said; on our planet we are all the same height you see.
Oval faces, cat like big eyes. Brown golden faces, so loving to me. Deep inside a longing for a place where i have been.

Hand in hand, towards the new world as they knew. The new world was so different. The colours were so clear. Like a fairytale brightness and magic atmosphere.

I can feel their presence, i know they are around. I always remember.

We are the chrystal children and we are here to stay. We`ll follow you in the new world. cause now it is the time. The time to get together and heal the world from fear.
 

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Laron

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I kept lugging around a leather bound dream journal that was full, from place to place. I was concerned someone would read it so I would always kept it close.

Before I came back to the US this time I decided to chuck it out. It had about 3 years worth of dreams in it, including some conscious astral projection experiences.

I'm not sure how I feel about that now, chucking it out. (Was that the right decision? ooops??)

I have dreams written down in a few places. Let's see if I can find one and use it for another speed poem.

(A dream from December 20, 2009)

The Mayans created the long count —
was it the end of the world?
Or simply a cycle to another b'ak'tun?

A friend and I repaired a pipe
in a factory that produced a boat.
Those with tickets were boarding.
“Where is mine?”

They told me there was no time
to make what I was carrying into a pass.
My friend went without me.

I left New Zealand and didn’t look back.
There was a mountain I climbed.
Three people joined me.

For two seconds a strange feeling
came over us —
a shock wave of sorts.

Had the poles moved?
Heading down, I crossed fields,
passed cows and bulls
to finally get shocked
by an electric fence.
 
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Anna

Anna

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Interesting about the mayans and the reparation of the pipe and the symbolism of what that could stand for and also in relation to 2012 and the mayan calender as your dream was 2009. Chucking your dream journal out, oh really! I was a bit surprised about that one from you (even if i understand the point of throwing):-))
 

Laron

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Interesting about
I will never forget that feeling I had in the dream when the shockwave occurred as a result of the poles shifting or something like that really important going on. It was nothing I had ever felt within a dream or in real life and was so very real and unique.
 
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Lila

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I will never forget that feeling I had in the dream when the shockwave occurred as a result of the poles shifting or something like that really important going on. It was nothing I had ever felt within a dream or in real life and was so very real and unique.
Very intriguing, that.
 
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Anaeika

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Ya’ll have poetic talent!

Lila , I liked how death was not an end but other opportunities to begin anew arose.

Laron , that book would have been smth I saved. It seemed important.
 
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Snowmelt

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I once tossed out an important letter like that. There was a fear it might become baggage. Words atrophy on the page after a time.
I understand that Laron is creating all a-new. It is a shock of the new.
 

Anaeika

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I once tossed out an important letter like that. There was a fear it might become baggage. Words atrophy on the page after a time.
I understand that Laron is creating all a-new. It is a shock of the new.
Attachment to the past and letting it go to live fully in the now is a powerful lesson. I change my mind. Chucking it has purpose & is the right decision. More mirror work, & time for me to do similar cleansing.

Who would make a poem out of this? Hehe
 
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Laron

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Chucking it has purpose & is the right decision.
I have recorded down some of the more important things from it, here and there, but I know I'm fully capable of having new experiences and if I want, revisiting old ones. It's not like anyone would have been able to de·crypt my weird handwriting though (I have the worst handwriting in the world!).

So what does ugly handwriting say about me?

google tells me...

The problem with google is that articles ranking high are usually SEO driven, and take forever to get to the point, repeating key words, going on about things I don't need to know...

It says I have emotional baggage, and that I'm emotionally volatile -- that is quite the opposite to who I am. The baggage is very light now, but there are certainly a few things left at the bottom corners. A lack of stability the article says.... well, i'm a traveler now, I can't be stable!

Low self-esteem it can indicate. I have this with a few areas, my astrological personality profile has shown that.

"Ugly handwriting is always individualistic because this type of writer is an independent thinker. You will notice that this writer does not always fit in with the expectations of society." -- Yes! "Ugly handwriting often goes with creativity and sometimes it can be a sign of eccentricity too." -- yep. "Some of the ugliest writers have been highly creative or exceptional people in one way or another. Beethoven and Napoleon had awful handwriting and Freud’s handwriting was quite ghastly!" - Oh.

The daily mail says,

  • People who write letters close together are intrusive and crowd others
  • Illegible signatures mean a person is private and difficult to understand
  • Words or sentences that vary to the rest of the text suggest it is a lie
  • Schizophrenia and high blood pressure can also be identified from writing

Well, the second point applies with an illegible signature, as mine can't be read.

Here's an interesting infographic from quora, "The Psychology of Handwriting".

Any, back on topic time!
 
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Laron

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A dream formed into a poem right now, from the 24th of February 2018, just a couple of weeks back.

Blaring away, the idiot box shook
as I’m thrown to the floor
Two giant jolts rocked the world
Columbian coffee may be no more

Eleven and twelve seemed impossible,
such was the magnitudes for these disasters
The family next to me remained oblivious
as the next movie was chosen thereafter

The Aussies were quick
with their online report –
the inside of the Earth depicted,
in a graph, intricately caught

The urge to tell others remained strong
as I researched online, like it was my mission
Yet curiosity at the speed of the article
over in Australia brought much suspicion
 

Snowmelt

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A dream formed into a poem right now, from the 24th of February 2018, just a couple of weeks back.

Blaring away, the idiot box shook
as I’m thrown to the floor
Two giant jolts rocked the world
Columbian coffee may be no more

Eleven and twelve seemed impossible,
such was the magnitudes for these disasters
The family next to me remained oblivious
as the next movie was chosen thereafter

The Aussies were quick
with their online report –
the inside of the Earth depicted,
in a graph, intricately caught

The urge to tell others remained strong
as I researched online, like it was my mission
Yet curiosity at the speed of the report
over in Australia brought much suspicion
Laron, you might change the word "Australia" for "Pine Gap". ;) O.o:D O.O
 
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Anna

Anna

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Laron, I was always thinking my bad hand writing (if im not really make an effort to write nicely) depended on the increased use of computer writing but i realize now it can have something deeper behind as all the symptoms above suits on me, except for the schizophrenia diagnosis but that could depend on i never considered myself sick because i heard or saw things from other dimensions:D
 
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Lila

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Laron, I was always thinking my bad hand writing (if im not really make an effort to write nicely) depended on the increased use of computer writing but i realize now it can have something deeper behind as all the symptoms above suits on me, except for the schizophrenia diagnosis but that could depend on i never considered myself sick because i heard or saw things from other dimensions:D
Western culture has little place for 'seeing things' of a subtle nature or hearing them.

Other cultures do, and many take them seriously as signs of a gift. In the book I am just reading "Lame Deer, Seeker of Visions" about a Sioux man, there is a description of a father who drives off the truant officers (come to take his son to school whether he wants to go or not) with a shotgun. He explains that the father was in touch with his native tradition which recognized the difficulty a boy, like his son (who'd shown signs of being a budding medicine man) would have had trying to walk in both worlds (Western and Sioux). The father's solution worked and his son eventually got a certificate stating that he was being taught in the traditional way, i.e., he did not need to go to a schoolhouse for his education.

There are plenty of other examples of cultures that offer a well supported path for folk with such a gift, rather than institutionalization and drugs. I think someone posted a trailer about a film on the subject a few months back, but I cannot now recall the name or other details. It sounded like a wonderful movie and a much more compassionate perspective than we computer users are used to;)
 
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Anna

Anna

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This poem i just finished is consisting of three dreams with meetings with spirit animals, the first one when i was around twelve but i still remember as i felt it was a real meeting by then as well. The other two with the last one a couple of months ago.

Spirit animals to you i bow

Lost in the world of strangers to my soul. A twelve year old girl.
Thinking about death and what i was doing here.
Found in my dreams, the power of the bear. Standing on a mountain, strong and tall.
Standing, raising arms calling me with a song. Suddenly felt like i was loosing fear.

Lost in the light of the power of my own. In the astral, to a panther I transformed.
She became a part of me as i gained my power.
From the bottom of my stomach, with a panters scream.
like magic the panter transformed into a white lotus flower.

Lost in my words of strangers to my soul. They called me in a room.
They asked for help feeling scared of her. The atmosphere filled with gloom.
She was the spider, big and bright. I took her on my finger and led her out.
As the atmosphere inside filled with gloom. As she entered outside, entered strings of light.

Oh, spirit animals. To you i bow. I thank you for your wisdom, the magic that i feel.
When you enter my life and help me clear my path. The symbolic meanings.
To find out what is real.
 
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Lila

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This poem i just finished is consisting of three dreams with meetings with spirit animals, the first one when i was around twelve but i still remember as i felt it was a real meeting by then as well. The other two with the last one a couple of months ago.

Spirit animals to you i bow

Lost in the world of strangers to my soul. A twelve year old girl.
Thinking about death and what i was doing here.
Found in my dreams, the power of the bear. Standing on a mountain, strong and tall.
Standing, raising arms calling me with a song. Suddenly felt like i was loosing fear.

Lost in the light of the power of my own. In the astral, to a panther I transformed.
She became a part of me as i gained my power.
From the bottom of my stomach, with a panters scream.
like magic the panter transformed into a white lotus flower.

Lost in my words of strangers to my soul. They called me in a room.
They asked for help feeling scared of her. The atmosphere filled with gloom.
She was the spider, big and bright. I took her on my finger and led her out.
As the atmosphere inside filled with gloom. As she entered outside, entered strings of light.

Oh, spirit animals. To you i bow. I thank you for your wisdom, the magic that i feel.
When you enter my life and help me clear my path. The symbolic meanings.
To find out what is real.
Beautiful!

BTW, bear medicine has long been associated with becoming a healer.
 
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Anaeika

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Western culture has little place for 'seeing things' of a subtle nature or hearing them.

Other cultures do, and many take them seriously as signs of a gift. In the book I am just reading "Lame Deer, Seeker of Visions" about a Sioux man, there is a description of a father who drives off the truant officers (come to take his son to school whether he wants to go or not) with a shotgun. He explains that the father was in touch with his native tradition which recognized the difficulty a boy, like his son (who'd shown signs of being a budding medicine man) would have had trying to walk in both worlds (Western and Sioux). The father's solution worked and his son eventually got a certificate stating that he was being taught in the traditional way, i.e., he did not need to go to a schoolhouse for his education.

There are plenty of other examples of cultures that offer a well supported path for folk with such a gift, rather than institutionalization and drugs. I think someone posted a trailer about a film on the subject a few months back, but I cannot now recall the name or other details. It sounded like a wonderful movie and a much more compassionate perspective than we computer users are used to;)
The documentary is called Crazy Wise. I posted it. There’s also a tedtalk by the photographer who goes out to interview these shaman. I should post it.
 
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Laron

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the hill.jpg

The Hill


Three sets of lights illuminating a hill
lit up the night gently, remaining still.
Curiosity was my first thought;
ought I depart or stay
as the three objects hovered till
who knows how long, on that distant hill.

Earlier, like a journey down into an abyss,
the house filled with darkness and shadow.
Enclosed within a less dense shape,
a fraction of attraction guided my direction.

Beyond glass pane in that empty spare room,
I sensed intention and connection,
but perhaps not my individual will,
yet trust and lack of fear brought me there.

This was no dream, I knew, as that hill —
over yonder — acting as a foundation till
those disc shaped crafts would depart.
Their purpose? I wondered still.
A farewell, I'd say, was sent my way,
as they lifted up, on that distant hill.​

This is a poem I just wrote based on the memory of an out of body experience in 2012, while living just west of the Blue Mountains, in Sydney, Australia. This happened after I went to bed, but also after I had been star gazing outside, laying on my back, where I had an owl fly very close to me, right above my head.
 
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Lila

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This will make a great edition to a compilation one day.
 
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Anna

Anna

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Laron, interesting about the possible relation between the owl, the year of the dream and the objects. I thought about that 2012 was an important point from the mayans view and that the owl can also relate to strong transitions and change.
 

Laron

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Laron, interesting about the possible relation between the owl, the year of the dream and the objects. I thought about that 2012 was an important point from the mayans view and that the owl can also relate to strong transitions and change.
I also see the owl as a possible screen memory for an abduction experience, one that may have taken place between seeing the owl, and then seeing the three UFO craft outside the window.
 
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