Last night I dreamt
Of incarceration.
I was locked in a room
With some other people.
White walls, barred window.
We heard sounds.
Someone was coming.
“Shh”, I said,
Creeping through the floor
As snakes do.
The door opened and
We saw our keepers.
Three tickets to freedom
Were given to the others.
They looked like those old ones,
Made of thick paper,
We bought years ago
To get on former trains.
But there was no ticket left
For me.
I had to stay.
And I received, instead,
Three cookies with sugar.
You’d better eat them,
I told myself,
Who knows what will come.
What crime had I committed?
Was my life to be sugared
With no freedom at all?
Perhaps I would be
Like one of those women
I saw at an art exhibition.
Prison artists.
Showing their truth
And their dreams.
Changing their prisoner’s ball
Tied to their feet,
For a delicious watermelon.
© December 2018 Marta Pombo Sallés
As a lawyer, I could try to get you out of prison, but I am afraid I would have to charge you
two cookies as my fee!!
Awesome job!! I loved it!
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Thank you for this comment. You never lose your sense of humor!
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What a great comment
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I loved loved LOVED..this
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Thank you, Kat!
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I just filled the cookie jar with oatmeal cookies last night. I asked the wife, what should I do with the few sugar cookies left at the bottom, She said to leave them, for the children. Children love sugar cookies.
I would never send you sugar cookies in that place. I would send a cake, with a file in it, like in the cartoons. And that file would work, gaining you your freedom. I just know it.
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Wow, what a lovely comment, Michael! If only that file in the cake would work to set our Catalan political prisoners free as well as any other unjustly imprisoned people by authoritarian regimes, that would be miraculous. Remember, for instance, Gandhi’s many hunger strikes while imprisoned; the same is happening now with our Catalan political prisoners: https://english.vilaweb.cat/noticies/two-more-catalan-political-prisoners-join-hunger-strike/
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This is so profound
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Thank you, Sakshi. I am glad you find it profound.
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My pleasure
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That’s amazing!! 🙂
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Thank you, Pratibha. So glad you enjoyed it.
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You’re welcome.
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I always love your poetry. This is excellent.
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Thank you, I always love yours too! 😊
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The picture and your poem marry each other. They bring back so many memories of Europe. White walls, old fashion thick paper tickets to ride the trains, sugar cookies and watermelons. Simple triggers reminds me of a simpler time. I’m awake and I am dreaming all because of a beautiful poem. I know it holds a deeper meaning but for a moment I melted into its innocence.
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What a beautiful comment, Susan! I am filled with joy to read such inspiring lines that evoke all senses. Love the idea of melting into its innocence.
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‘Was my life to be sugared with no freedom at all?? ‘ Love this line. The way you blended sweetness of cookies with an image of horror is amazing.
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Thank you, Lavanya. This poem is actually based on a dream I had some time ago, so there is a lot of the subconscious mind, perhaps trying to make the horror less evil. What I have written is literally what I dreamt plus the last lines inspired from an art exhibition of women prisoners.
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nice, marta, but you could have traded the cookies for train tickets
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Ha ha, yes.
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Your allegories here from your dream to the write are insightful and well done. I like your poem. It is not easy to translate what happens in our dreaming time to when we are awake.
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Thank you for your appreciations, Renee. Yes, it is not so easy, but, at the same time, dreams and the subconscious are wonderful sources of inspiration for any creative work.
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I love this narrative drama!! 😊 We are literally in a prison, but we leisurely munch sugared cookies.This is like the man who was threatened by death from three sides yet still felt ecstatic for seeing a honey comb hanging above him. 🙂 🙂
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Yes, exactly. Thank you so much for your appreciations. Your comment means a lot to me, Newton.
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My greatest pleasure, Marta!!
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Dreams can be so inspiring, it remembering their content on waking, unless you can scribble thoughts immediately in my case they are lost in the ether.
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Couldn’t agree more with this; I sleep with a notebook beside me and, no matter what the time is, I immediately scribble what comes to my mind, whether it is a dream or an idea passing by.
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All scribbling is art work on a page – even if it never sees the light of day? Thanks for the follow.
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You are welcome, Chris, and I thank you too for the follow. Much appreciated.
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I hope this is just a dream.
Do understand, atleast I hope, the metaphor of prison.
True freedom will only come when there is true equality. Till then we have hope.
P. S. Your posts are not showing up on my reader. I had to go and look for it on your web site. It is frustrating.
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Yes, that is exactly it! Thank you for this great analysis. If you did not see this post on your WordPress reader perhaps there could be something wrong with my WordPress settings. I will ask a friend.
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I will keep an eye on for future posts. One reason may be that I rely more on my cell phone now to read posts and may have some issues with my wordpress mobile app.
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Thank you again.
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“God knows the secrets of your heart,
He’ll tell them to you when you’re asleep”
~ Bob Dylan
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An amazing dream.
Horror coated sugar…
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Great reading and summary of my poem, Shiva!
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But who creates the prison? Thought inspiring words.
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Thank you again, Chris. This poem is the literal account of a dream I had before our peaceful Catalan pro-independence leaders were imprisoned, before the so-called “Spanish democracy” removed its mask and began to show more Francoist authoritarian traits that have evolved into more oppression for all of us. A premonitory dream?
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