William Michaelian

Poems, Notes, and Drawings

Tag Archive for ‘Dreams’

Dry as Dust

A short dream: Without questioning its odd location, I realize that the bookshelf outside on our front step would be more useful inside. There are only a few books on it, while in the house there are enough scattered and stacked about to fill it and more. What strikes me most, though, is the near absence of dust. Why is there so much more dust on the other shelves inside, […]

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Memorial

Reading old dreams — as if the mind, upon entering, were a cave. September 4, 2021 . Memorial My day began in the middle of the night when, after emerging from a tall building that consisted only of stairs, landings, windows, and walls, I met a friend in an open grassy area that might have been a cemetery had there been any graves. The friend, a poet with whom I […]

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Halls Within Halls

Tongue-tied twice by strange dreams, the details of which I scarcely remember, the second ending with my awkward, labored flight about twenty feet above a sidewalk past snowy steps leading to the door of a three-story brick building while in search of the other entrance — the place was familiar: it contained halls within halls within halls — I knew that much, but nothing more, the structure yet to make […]

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The Juggler

Doing one thing at a time, doing it thoroughly, lovingly, and well, my thinking becomes less tangled. One thought doesn’t always lead to another. Often there’s a large space between it and the next. To me, what happens in that space, and the nature of that space itself, is more beautiful, vital, and important than anything I might accomplish by juggling away what’s left of the precious time that has […]

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Crossing — My Father’s Side

I didn’t learn to type in school. With the help of a book from the public library, I taught myself when I was in my early thirties. Prior to that, I used the time-honored hunt-and-peck system. I’m a fair typist, not a good one. I can type these lines without looking at the keys. But if I need to incorporate numbers, I have to look down. Once many years ago, […]

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My Childhood Self

In terms of imagination, joy, and wonder, I am as much my childhood self as ever. I am a dreamer, and the world passes through me as a dream. That is my reality. There has been an accumulation of facts, of knowledge, yes — but as useful as some of these are, or seem to be, they are only superficial adornments. They are not mine; I lay no claim to […]

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Proverb

A very warm afternoon, outside and in. It seems logical, natural, inevitable, that, as I age, I am moving steadily, inexorably, towards silence. The season holds sway, but the conclusion is the same any time of year. Towards word silence; journal silence; poem silence; grave silence. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust; silence to silence. Emerged from silence, proceeding unto silence; never having left silence, forever part of silence. Loving […]

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