(From 1986)
.
It screams a common wail
at night
while we in separate sleep
hear cries
of banshees calling for a mate
or
noon whistles – time for lunch
or
warnings of war
or
a bad opera
and
then we awaken
from our dreams
it’s someone else’s problem
we shrug our collective shoulders
and drift back
into the sleep
of apathy.
.
© 1986, 2013 Betty Hayes Albright
Seems like some only awaken to find the dream was real…enjoyed thinking about your poem.
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Unfortunately that is so… and there are a few who awaken and send up a little prayer for those in trouble. Thank you, Charlie.
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Charlie, methinks I’ve failed with this poem and have re-written the ending – for better or for worse, perhaps.
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Another fantastic poem Betty revealing, once again, your wonderful gift with words.
I often hear sirens in the distance at night when drifting off to sleep and imagine whats going on behind it all.
My youngest daughter was born in 1986! She was a surprise gift so whenever I see 1986 written down it rings a joyous bell for me. And I drift of into “what ifs”. She has recently qualified as a social worker and has just started her first job fully fledged! If our plans had materialised she wouldn’t have ben born! Obviously someone/something had a different plan for us and I am so very,very grateful.
Much love to you
Christine xxx
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Same here, Christine – whenever I hear sirens (day or night) I empathize with those in trouble and hope they will be well and safe again, whatever has happened.
And congratulations on your surprise daughter (who would be 27 now?) It sounds like she was a soul determined to be born at that time – to YOU – and that she is fulfilling her purpose in life. A heart-warming story! 🙂
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Thank you Betty! Yes, she is a joy and will always hold a litle extra “specialness” for me. 🙂 xxx
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Oh! Betty that was beautiful, I love the idea of everyone separate but all united by one alluring dream. Thank goodness we all awoke. You never know with, Sirens, Harpies and Banshees….. I may never sleep again. 😉
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Willow, thank you for the nice compliment. I’m afraid I failed to communicate the satirical message in the poem, so the ending is now re-written in hopes of making it more clear. Sleep well and have pleasant dreams, my friend! 🙂
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This is beautiful Betty. Love Ethel
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Profound words of reality, Betty, and every time I hear a siren outside, I say a little prayer and hope whoever is in trouble will be okay…xx
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I like the opportunities afforded to wander through various scenarios between returning to the original situation and your interpretation and comment upon it. The whole journey we are taken on is itself like a dream and series of dreams, including (and concluding with) the one we dream of as reality.
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“The sleep of apathy”–too true.
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Cute line about bad opera! I love the way this poem de facto acts like a siren. I hear it loud and clear.
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Thank you for reading this old thing. Maybe I’ll re-post it one of these days. (Have had writer’s block for awhile now….my muse left again.)
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Everything you write is worth waiting for.
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Thank you, you are most kind.
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