Dream Like Dali

Picture source: Salvador Dali 1904 – 1989

Majestically, she came striding to the edge of sun baked
sand like an hourglass held up by time,
until she was still; her long legs equidistant

he lay heel to toe with the savage sun
like a mummy bandaged in alabaster;
humanity encrusted with the parched earth –
it had partially eaten him –

a dried out dove clung on to his chest
since his ribs were a near perch
for the wasted observer;
tired of flying,
tired of singing,
lost in his search for peace,
its feathers had become carved with
fine dried clay – its fissure
like veins devoid of faith – baked
but incomplete,
badly in need of rest

her elongated shadow buried
them both
before she knelt on the earth
for water to pour from dainty,
silver rivulets
that ran her body,
though she was smooth
and flowing sand

he watched her rise,
striking the sky
with her cool, black silhouette
but on the floor it lay
outstretched – as an amber pool
of honey;
he placed in it his hand
to taste her

he was quenched, fed. Arid skin
of dust and clay fell away as did the dove,
which had replaced his heart –
its wings shattered
into a thousand pieces until baby soft powder
dusted the gritty, sparkling floor

a billowing white cloud produced a magnificent
topaz bird; its plumage was a thousand lights
of peaceful nights held in its tail eyes
of beautiful iridescence –
tail eyes that had once glimpsed peace
in a thousand colours: turquoise, ocean green
and gold …

quill feathers wafted the zircon grains
of the sand, writing new rules,
posturing and reshaping –

beautiful but cruel foundations of peacock ore
too brittle to walk on, created swank waves
of peacock blues,

and it strutted till a thousand feathers
fell on the sand
to rise again as blood red ceramic poppies
that poured in an avalanche from the gaping
mouths of soldiers still inside tin helmets –
grown men like babes still fighting
inside their dreams

he tried to pick the wild flowers for her
but barbed, razor wire snagged
his crumbling fingers,
and hidden behind those were children’s faces
pressed against wire mesh
on the shores of green, unpleasant oceans
that gulped and gagged; force fed a rigorous diet
of helplessness and hope
each time sand was flipped inside the hourglass

he gripped her waist
but as his reflection caught on her glass bosom
it shattered her frame

a thousand more grains of sand
flowed like the salt
of his tears – sprinkled gently
from a watering can’s wise rose
trying to feed the presumption of green
leaves between his toes

his flaking sinews were drawn
to his chest; he wore a small hole
where the dove had nestled –
dust stung his eyes
before his tattered hand rose to form a bridge
that the sun rode across
to join him at his journey’s end

red jewel fish swam ahead of her
in shoals of beating hearts –
riders corralled the sand storm’s cloth
approaching like a whirling dervish;
her titian hair draped those black, almond desert eyes,

and their glinting sunlit flecks
consumed time in their frenzy –
she placed the convergence; a plump,
red heart
within his rib cage,

she was a belly dancer for a while
on the sand’s hypnotic gyrations
prompting creatures with a spin of time
to play music
inside of their shells

her lips were kissed by
one thousand butterflies, and her open palms
let loose a chorus of small white doves;
all of the notes to harmonise man’s discord –
all willing one more time to fly away
in a relentless search for peace and to sing
for another one thousand years –

time enough, she thought, before they’d need
a place to rest.

Author: Anita Lubesh

I write poetry/prose/stories/short stories/verses for children/sketch/and have 6 chapters of a novel sitting there like that half eaten trifle in the fridge or bottle of Jack Daniels because something makes you afraid to eat it or drink... right now.. I am a proud Geordie from England's northern hemisphere and the beautiful city of Newcastle upon Tyne. I live with my lovely husband who came all the way from sunny California just for me, and my favourite animal, Bobble, our dog. I am a member of Greenpeace and Friends of the Earth and wish we could all do more, especially today, when such a lot is wrong.

17 thoughts on “Dream Like Dali”

  1. Thank you Anita. I was captivated by this piece. I’m new to WP and will follow you. Had you not commented on Facebook via Jamie Dedes post I may not have had this privilege. I look forward to reading more.

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Ann_Within

A deep dive into various lives.

my life as a piece of string

... from a silent space

Letters on my Heart

The Broken Cannot Rise Alone...

Discarded Recollections

A Repository of Discarded Poetry, Story Prompts, and Memories

Lluís Bussé

Barcelona's Multiverse | Art | Culture | Science

The Lonely Author

Pain goes in, love comes out.

Light Touch

Just wondering at the miracle called LIFE .

The Stories In Between

Author River Dixon

Wezzlehead

poetry by Robert Ford

Rachana Trp.

Optimism is the faith that leads to achievement. Nothing can be done without hope and confidence.

Story Of The Footloose

In the end all you want is a pen that writes well and a life that you've lived well.

Megha's World

A potpourri of emotions

pouringtruth

Poetry and words

The Bouquet

A collection of beautiful things and thoughts

Stuff and what if...

Exploring writing and the creative randomness of life. Snapshots of moments.

Just Brian

"Not all who wander are lost..."

Floresphotographic

Flower & Nature Photography.

newtoneapblog

A Discarded Plant

A Cornered Gurl

I am more than breath & bones.

MY VALIANT SOUL

My poetry is my religion.

A Blooming Scribe

Poetry, short essays and other work showcased by a Scientist, Philosopher, and Adventurer. Posts on Monday and First Fridays.

Everyday Strange

Dark Writing and Strange Inspirations

The Broad Spectrum Life

Exploring Rhymes, Reasons, and Nuances of Our World

Elan Mudrow

Smidgens

David Redpath

We're all on a road to somewhere.

Seductive Darkness

Provocative poetry and musings on life

The Renegade Press

Tales from the mouth of a wolf

MYMonkey MIND

Your Brain is a Radio that Does What its Told

SentientVoice

Encouraging animal advocacy and compassion

Mark Deeble

A wildlife filmmaker in Africa

vividlyfoxxy

Just another WordPress.com site

Hearing The Mermaids Sing

At Least Trying Too

michnavs

Poetry by Mich

Frank Solanki

If you want to be a hero well just follow me

ALEX MARKOVICH ART

MarkovichUniverse AT gmail DOT com

%d bloggers like this: