The Wolf

Johnny Utah (Two)

The wolf's howls awoke me.
Its sounds were haunting.
Why is he calling thee?
What was he wanting?

Was his cry of pain?
What was wrong with this bloke?
Out of the bus I came,
Along with a vape to smoke.

The night was still dark
There was no moon in sight.
Should I disembark?
Would this make it right?

So I took a great big puff
Blew the smoke in the breeze.
The wolf could smell the stuff.
The aroma seemed to please.

He stopped howling then.
Became as quiet as a mouse.
A hit I took again.
That's when the wolf was at my house.

RAH 5/10/2019

Image snapped in Second Life.
Filters via Photoshop.

TAXI
maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Hotel%20California/224/171/21

Kintland by Cica Ghost

I walked into a land of yarn.
How often had I seen this before?
Never was all my mind could think.
Never have I seen so much yarn soar.

~RAH May 2019~

Hotel California (Two)

I found a way to go to the place.
You know.
The one that offers imagination and creativity.

Though I seemed alone, I could tell there was more.
I could feel all the emotivity.

You too can be here. It's not just for one.
It is for all who seek what is known as connectivity.
-----------------
RAH 4/2019
__________

This is What Happened....

Woke up with a sleepless unrest. Haven't done this is a long time. Have spent two hours up now and am getting ready to turn in...once again.

Thought I'd be a bit "creative" while up.

This is what happened...

I came across a group of folk.
They chatted, laughed, and one did smoke.

So happy to have people around.
For them life is so easy, this is the truth we found.

We sat and communicated.
It was good, with these three, to get acquainted.

This is what happened...

To be continued ;-D

TAXI
maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Mangyeong/128/167/126

Image from Lenabem-Anna J. used in filter process
www.flickr.com/photos/lenabem-anna/47417178482/in/feed

Sounds from here
87.230.84.182:9000

Sweet Dreams People.

Guests

It seems Rah Rehula had some guests in her home.
This is what is being shown.

Two appeared within the day.
Common place folk Rah had to say.

They sat outside on the couch.
The quiet girl was a bit of a grouch.

The guy in green was pretty funny.
He kept calling Rah "Honey".

We sat for a bit with a chat.
All was well...and that is that.

Image snapped in Photoshop.
Some filter in Photoshop added.

TAXI
maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Mangyeong/128/167/126

Christmas Eve

Christmas Eve and all about
Not a person whispered; not even a shout.

Rah grew weary of building for hunts. It all hit her at once.

She settled down for a little shut eye, down near the old water supply.

Dreaming of peace and good will to men. She does this time and again.

A noise from near she heard and awoke. That damn frog and hid F-ing croak.

Tonight will be a specialty dish; frog legs and whatever else you wish.

Christmas Eve and all about
Not a person whispered; not even a shout.

Poem by Rah
Image snapped in Second Life.
Filter added via PhotoShop.

The Feather

I watched a feather float down from the sky.
The beauty of it made me wonder why.
Why does beauty whither and die?
Please tell me why.

A voice sounded in my head.
"These are not left for dead.
To a new life they go instead. 
No. Beauty is not dead."

I looked at the feather with a new eye.
Finding that reason why.
A new beauty to make me cry.
Now I understand why.  

RAH 2018

The Tale of the Stabbing...

Don't make me get out of this chair.
She tells him with an angry stare.

Mom left me in charge of the house.
You best be quiet as a mouse.

You know I am watching my favorite show.
If you make me miss it, the evil you will know.

These scissors are close at hand.
On your body they will land.

So enter the room if you dare.

Just don't make me get out of this chair.

Twisted Tale

In the world of yester-year
Lived a time we hold so dear.

It was a great place to be,
A beautiful world to see. 

One day the shadows whispered
Of days that would be glittered.

The world rejoiced at the chance. 
The shadows began their trance.

Then time began to lose light.
Darkness took all that was right.

The light now hides in the dark.
The shadows guard the landmark.

The only way to get through. 
is to fight for what is true.

The shadows will fight till death.
Until not one has a breath.

If you are able to pass.
You are one fucking bad ass.

Blue Eyed Man

“Stay on the black line”, the man calls out. My friend and I look down to see the line beneath our feet. “I feel like a cow being herded into the pen”, I say. My friend nods her head.

We are in what seems to be a large warehouse. There are so many people here. It is very crowded and very bright.

Soon we pass out of the building and into the open air. It feels good to be outside. We stand in an area between the building and an iron fence. “Follow the line” shout s a worker. We all obey.

Finally, we pass through the gate.

“Stay on the Black line”, someone shouts. I look at the ground and see many lines of different colors. Wow! When did that happen? I wonder where they all lead.

I then notice all the other people moving slowly along the black line. Someone ahead of us even comments about getting where we need be on time.

At that moment, I realize a person is walking in the opposite direction. She is dressed in brown and orange leather clothing. Walking with her is a LARGE animal. Its head is shaped like a buffalo; yet, its body looks like that of a dog.

I've seen this animal before.

Where have I seen this before?

“Stay on the Black line”, I hear from somewhere.

I look past the crowd and realize that I know this place.

I tell my friend, “ I've been here before. You’d love it. There are so many good memories.”

As we move forward, things begin to even feel familiar to me. I smile and remember a wonderful time. “Come on”, I say to my friend. “I know someone special here”.

My friend mentions our destination and the need to stick to the Black line, and the time frame. “I’ll get us back”, I say. “Just follow me.” We step off the Black line and venture into a small town.

There are people happily walking to and from places. I smile, remembering the joy. The light feels good upon my face. My friend and I take a street to the left and I mention to her that we are almost there. I even ask those passing if they know the way. Most walk on, saying nothing.

Just then, a familiar face passes us. This person recognizes me and stops to say hello. He seems very happy to see me, and I him. There are now four of us stopped in the street near a sidewalk.

I introduce my friend and tell the young man who I believe to be looking for and ask if he remembers. “Oh yes”, he says with enthusiasm. He then introduces his friend, who seems to be very shy, standing behind him and only peeking out. I smile and beam of pride. What a beautiful person this man has found. I can see, and feel, that these two are very happy together.

“This is our house”, he states after the introductions. I turn to see a yellow house, with brown shingles, several stories high. Each level has a room shaped like a hexagon butting out of the structure.

The rooms lean in all different directions. It seems the house is ready to fall at any moment. I know it will not.

“It’s a fixer”, he says.

I begin to cry, and tell him how beautiful the home is, and how happy I am, that he is the person to reside in it.

How could I know this house so well? Could I have lived there? It feels like it was so…

“You remember the way now”, he says.

“Yes”, I say aloud to no one.

We continue down the street, and I tell my friend we are almost there.

I see the small place we must turn into. If you were not aware, you’d miss it. We glided to the right and walked through the foliage opening.

Inside I could hear the children playing. It was a garden of trees, flowers, water and stones.

Perfect.

Beautiful.

I asked the children if He was in. “Yes”, they sang. “Won’t you play with us?” They splashed water about the place getting a little upon me. “I wish I could, but; time is short”, I say. “Will you come back”, they ask. “I do hope I will”, I say. “I have missed this place.”

I pass through the door and into the home.

My friend is still there with me; yet, she seems non-existent.

The room is dark and long.

It holds couches that are lined back-to-back, three deep. A head pops up from the couch nearest the door. A blue blanket covers the head of a woman. She has red hair and light eyes. “What?” she asks.

She looks so familiar and seems to know me.

“Where is He?” I ask. She points to the end couch behind her.

As I move toward the man, I see his eyes open wide. They are the bluest I've ever seen.

He seems older than I remember.

I take his hand.

He begins to cry.

He tries to shake my hand away.

“I had to leave”, I began to tell him. “There was too much unrest; too much hatred.  I had to go. I wanted to come explain and to tell you good-bye”, I say.

The man is crying and still trying to shake my hand from his.

I look down to see that I am not holding his hand. He is brushing at the air. It’s a lucid dream.

I remember now.

Everything is clear.

At that moment I awake from my own dream.

In my bed, I began to cry.  I can still see the hurt in those blue eyes.

Will I venture back into this world again? I hope I can someday.

I’d love to see the yellow house and those who live in it.

I wish to play with the children.

I wish to again hold the hand of the blue-eyed man.

Time

Take me to the time

When I was innocent

Take me to the time

When life was true

I am but a child

And you are still you

Take me to the time

when I was brave

Take me to the time

Before the last day

Take me to the time

When all was great

Take me to the time

Before I met my fate

Take me to the time

When I could choose

Take me to the time

Before I was used

Take me to the time

When life was gold

Take me to the time

Before I am old

Dream Theme

It seems the dreams never stop. They continue to come each night.I try to work them out and make them a tale for the show; however, there’s always some small thing that just doesn’t sound right; or something I’d rather not “make public”. What I did discover while writing were themes that happen in the dreams. Tonight, I’ll focus on one of these.

Vehicles...

There is always a vehicle of some kind in my dreams. These are usually cars. I have been known to travel on skates, or bicycles; even a wheelchair has shown up.

Some of the more memorable vehicle dreams involved “others”. I remember one dream where the people realized I could understand them. They seemed shocked to know this. One asked to give me a ride home. I can remember his car as an older muscle machine. It was later than the fifties; earlier than the eighties. Some mix between a Bel Air and a Mustang. The driver of this car was surprised that I could understand him speaking to me!

Another time, I traveled down a street where small shelters made of wood and cardboard were set up on the side of the road. Cars and bikes were traveling freely amongst the people walking. I came to a small space with a beach chair and glass. The woman seated in the next space said, “Sit still and they’ll come give you a ride home. It’s sure nice of them to give us a ride home. Don’t you think?”

Another time, I was in a wheelchair. Everyone was trying to make it across a bridge within a certain time-frame. I grabbed the back of a car to move quicker and exert less energy. The next thing I realized was I had missed an important turn and was floating far above the crowd.

Usually when things like this happen in the dream, I can maneuver a nice turn and guide myself back to the road. This time, I was too far away. There was no trick to get me back. I realized it was my time to go. I was OK with this and closed my eyes to meet my destiny and started to feel my descent.

Images started to appear before me in blurred bits. I saw the sky and the clouds; yet, there were sparkling glimpses of something else. The sky and clouds would become less and the other image would clear. I realized that I was in my bedroom and was looking at the mirrored closet doors. It was all still quite fuzzy and strange. I then noticed two arms gliding down my body, laying me down in my bed. Softly the hand slid down my lowered body to place me in the position as I had been when I fell asleep. I tried to look up to see a face but could not for I completely awoke. As much as I did not want it to happen, the room came into complete view.

These vehicles seem to be the way of travel for me. How do you move about in your dreams? I’d love to hear your stories. Well…Thanks for listening.

Happy Memorial Day...

...Remember what it is truly about...

Nine Again by Rian McGonigal

Nine Again by Rian McGonigal

What it's all about....

---

The Strangers

To set this one up, you must understand that the dream was as real as the physical world. So real, I could feel it happening to me. It was also quick; a fast action event that only lasted seconds. The whole illusion went something like this…

What a great idea to have the blow-up mattress in the living room! I could share it with the new dog we had just brought home. The only thing is that Ted keeps coming in to check on us and cover us with blankets. In fact, there he is again. Moving past us quickly.

Wait. That person moved far to fast and is way too short to be Ted. As I sat up, I notice the bed has moved into the center of the room. This is not where we started the evening! I looked around the corner toward the two offices, there was the little person staring at me. A second one was standing behind him.

“Hey ” I shouted at him. “You are not supposed to be here. Get out now.” The two looked at me and the one said, “You can see me?” Just then, the two started placing masks over their already strange faces. The one in back had a mask like the Scream movie. The one in front had a plain white mask he pulled over his head.

They began to advance toward me very quickly. The one in front saying that I should tell no one of this. He began to scratch at my feet with his long nails. They were in my face now, shouting, “Tell no one of this. Tell no one of this.”

I reached back into the chair and grabbed the gun. The hammerless now had a hammer to pull back. I pulled the hammer and shouted for the two to leave or I would fire. They continued. I fired. Nothing.

I pulled the hammer back again and fired. Nothing. Once more I did this. There was no sound from the gun; however, I saw a small bubble appeared at the end of the barrel. The two stopped screaming at me and looked at one another.

Just then, the one shouted, “She has the metal. Get out. She has the metal.” They ran to the back door and tried to open the slider. “That’s right; it’s locked”, I said. “Now what are you going to do?”

I began to scream for Ted. “Ted, Ted, Ted” I called. The two were afraid and ran past me toward the front door. I told them, “You’re in trouble now.” As they passed by me to run to the front door, I awoke; still frightened that someone was in the house.

I climbed out of the bed and headed toward the master bedroom to sleep in my own bed with Ted; leaving the dog to sleep by himself.

________________________________________________________

The Drive

I sat listening to the two beings in the front seat of the car. I knew they were talking; however, I could not fully understand them. I just sat there; watching the scenery pass by. I did see the home and the people at a quick glance, heard some commotion and what sounded like an auction of some sort.

From the front I heard, “Good luck with that one. You’ll get Football and Baseball Games all night long. The lights are bright.” Then I heard, “That’s a big house”. As I turned to look, I could see the field where the games would be played. Something about it looked very familiar. The home began to come into view. It was big. It was a brick house; brown brick, not red, a typical one level home built in the early 70’s.

As I looked from one end of the house to the next, I noticed boards on the windows; such a beautiful home to be boarded up. Then the back of the home came into view. Even through the block wall, I knew it had a pool. Then I realized I had been there before. In fact, I spoke out loud, “I’ve been there before.”

The passenger in the front turned and spoke to me. “Oh yes, I am sure that idiot boy was there.” “He was” I spoke. “He’s not as stupid as you think. In fact, we had an interesting conversation when we gave him a ride.” “Oh really? And where were you going?” asked the passenger. The driver then shifted positions so his head was between mine and the passengers. I could not hear what he was saying; however, knew there was concern about the conversation. The passenger laughed. He then asked what I had done and who all was there at the house.

I told him there had been a party. A lot of people were there. I could see them in my mind. I knew them all; yet, did not remember any of them. It had been one of those strange memories. People changing identities and what seemed like total chaos; but, there was complete control. Then I spoke a name. What was the name? Chloe? Zoie? I said this name to the man.

At that very moment, I was in the home. Standing in what was the kitchen. There were a few pans on the sink. It was empty other than that. No table or chairs. I turned to look at where the couch had been. It was empty. My heart felt heavy.

I then stepped out of what seemed like a closet and into a back room. There were two windows in the room. Crank windows. The kind you turn the handle to open. I reached down and shut the television off. That was strange. Had I been watching it? I then reached in front of the beach chair on the floor and picked up the pack of cigarettes. I don’t smoke. I had to get these though, as not to leave them behind. I noticed the ashtray with three butts in it. That was all that was in this room; the television, the chair and the ashtray.

I had what I needed and felt an urgency to leave. Some feeling that the owner would be coming home soon. I looked down in my hands. I had the car keys and cigarettes. I was now in a washroom, or a mud room. I could not tell which. I opened the side door and stepped out shutting the door behind me. I then re-opened the door and turned the lock from inside. Being careful to shut the door and making sure it was locked.

When I looked at the car, I saw the black truck parked behind it and a larger utility one toward the front. They were trying to block me in. I could see a space that would allow me to escape. I jumped into the car and stared at the front panels. Where was the key? I must have dropped it in the home; but, I had locked the door and now could not get back in. I seemed to recall another way to get into the home.

I opened the car door and began to step out. At that moment, two men appeared in suits similar to those that a painter or fumigator would wear. The one with the dark hair walked to the home and began to spray a liquid around the lower edges. The lighter haired man stepped up to me and started talking as if we knew each other. I knew this was wrong.

I walked toward the house looking at the ground to see if I had dropped the key outside. The dark haired man started dropping dust from a large bag around where he had sprayed. The light haired man told me to not cough. I thought that was weird. He should have said not to breathe; shouldn’t he? As I turned my head, I saw a figure dressed in white, pass the home on the street. They stressed urgency to “get away”.

The next moment, the light haired man was looking out the window of the home at me. How did he get in there? Wait. That was not the real washroom/mudroom. It was a deceptive room. He was calling for me to “come in”. Suddenly, the dark haired man yelled to his friend, saying he should see what he found. They were at the side door. The one I had locked.

The light haired man said they should just kick the door in. The dark haired man said that would not work. They needed to unlock the door. Just as the light haired man raised his leg to kick, I looked in my hand and saw the car key wrapped around my middle finger. I turned and jumped in the car; starting it up. The engine was cold and did not want to run. I had to move fast anyway. I shifted the old car into gear and started moving.

All around me turned dark. How had evening arrived so quickly? I threw the car into neutral and revved the engine to try and warm it up. I saw a figure on the road. Was that the same person who I had seen before? It was not. This person was moving toward the home, not away. They were wrapped in a black cloak with sparkling red fibers. As I passed, I could see the fire red hair beneath the hood.

I drove past the person and could see the road made a “Y’ in front of me. There was a stop sign just before the “Y”. To the right was a group of building. I had been there before too. I couldn’t stop this time. It was too dangerous. I only hoped that no one noticed, or if they did, that they did not understand what the building was. I just kept on driving to the right of the “Y”…
________________________________________________________

The Dream Poem

The Dream Poem

A cinematicc drama begins to unfold
As each scene plays out.
Some so twisted, they cannot be retold.

From where these stories come I do not know.
Is it the sleeping mind that brings them out?
Night after night they continually flow?

They say each item is a symbol.
Some are very beautiful.
Others are just dismal.

There are times when I am afraid to move.
In my sleep is a monster.
My strength and courage I must prove.

Do your dreams have music, color and smell?
Mine are filled with each sense.
So powerful they are too frightening to tell.

It seems I’ll always have this fate
To see visions through the night.
All I can do is lay down my head…and wait.

The Home

The white house on the corner was very familiar. She was walking toward it as she had so many times before. The house was not large on the outside. On the inside, it would go on forever; room after room; level after level. As she reached the door, she knew she would be allowed in. The woman who greeted her seemed older than before. The woman offered her something from the kitchen and walked off. She knew she’d never see her again once the woman entered the kitchen. It was always like that; the greeter, only there to walk you through the door.

The living room was still as she remembered; dusty and dark with beautiful wooden floors. Small throw rugs near the chairs; no couches here…just…chairs. On the right, through a small door fit for a child were stairs which led up…and down. As she looked, her heart raced; it was here, in the stairwell that held all those secrets. Downstairs, the sleeping bodies of so many she had known. She had seen who she thought to be her grandparents there. Upstairs was the place that held treasures, and beings she had not yet met. Oh. There were always others there; however, she was too frightened to really see them...or speak to them.

She headed toward the stairs, moving upward. There was a secret entrance. Could she remember? Would anyone else be there? After the first turn in the stairs, she stopped. Her heart began to beat quicker again. Why did she always go here? On the steps was a toy. She remembered it from before. She had been playing hide and go seek with her brother. She smiled. There were good times.

Upward she climbed. When she reached the next level, her heart began to pound yet again. Here was where her brother would hide through the secret entrance waiting for her. He would then jump out and scare her. He always did that. One time, he did that and had fallen…to where the toy lay. Had something happen to him she could not remember?

She could hear him now call, “Come on!”

Through the small entrance she crawled. Though she were older, it still seemed frightening; just as it was so many years ago. The room began to become larger. She saw the old furniture; still sitting as it had from the last visit. They knew how to make furniture back then. She’d love to take one of the chairs home with her; but knew she never could. The curves of the wood were beautiful; the fabric soft; with hand stitched patterns. She moved toward the chair to sit down and then stopped. There was someone else there; already sitting; a woman…in older clothing. Her hair was up…like the Gibson girl picture…

“Over here.” She heard her brother say. She turned and moved through another room. Who was that person? Why could I not speak with them? “That’s their room” came the reply from her brother. We all have our own rooms? She asked. “Yes”. Now she was unsure if she was even speaking with her brother. Hadn’t he been hurt with the fall on the stairs? Did she ever really see her brother when she came here?

In this room was furniture not as new as today; however, newer than the room before. This room was not as neat. There were boxes on the floor, piles of clothing, toys everywhere and a closet that was full of just about everything. Was this how she had left the room the last time? She remembered being chased away…too frightened to return to the room…

There were three beds…maybe more. She started cleaning the room. As she did, she came across a familiar object. She remembered her sisters. They would love this. She’d go get them. They would be in the other room. How did she know this? When did they arrive? She ran through the door into the next room; more beds; newer still, the room cleaner than the last. What had she come here for?

Now she began to be very frightened. She ran through room after room. Some of the rooms had people in them. She knew these were their rooms. She was not to interfere. She seemed to understand that. Some would see her and shout, or scream. She continued to run through the house. She knew each room, every turn every hallway. She had been there so many times.

Finally, she reached the last room that would lead her out the door. The scenery outside was always the same. What happened when you walked through the door was never the same. What would it be this time? She remembered some happy times going through the door; kids laughing and playing. She remembered scary times through the door; being chased…shot at…beaten.

She had to go through the door; down the stairs. Usually, if you made it all the way down and were able to turn right, you’d be ok. She had a feeling this time would be different than before. Why was that? What had happened? Who was she searching for? What was she searching for?

As she had done so many times, she reached for the door knob and turned it. The stairs were still white; the paint starting to peel; the old wood showing through. The sun was bright on her face. That was a good sign. Many times, it had been the moon to great her. This time the visit would end soon.

She realized then she had never finished cleaning the room. That meant she’d be back. Would she ever clean the room? Would she ever meet the others who were in the home? Were they as frightened of her, as she of them?

She smiled. It would be a good ending this time; maybe next time too. Hopefully, she’d remember her way back. Maybe next time she’d actually see her brother and her sisters. She knew they were there too. She could hear them on the stairs, telling her to hurry up and get home before Mom and Dad started looking. “OK” she said. She looked down to see herself as she was so many years ago…a little girl with Mary Jane shoes and pretty dress. Off she skipped to catch up with her sisters; leaving her brother in the home…in another place…and another time…

They

The night was dark as Eve crept along the deserted street. She was careful not to make any noise; hiding from the night so not to be seen. The street was littered with cars left to rust. Tonight was the night to meet. A plan was going to be made to hopefully escape this nightmare. Everyone attending had to be careful, for THEY could see everything. Eve knew this, and kept her breathe steady and her mind clear as she moved closer to the dilapidated house.

She could remember the house as it was before…before she awoke. It was the bluest house on the street. Light blue wood siding with darker blues around the edges of the home. She remembered the beautiful bushes and flowers that surrounded the home and the walkway; all the greens, and yellows and reds. That’s how others still saw the house. She sometimes wished she still saw this.

The home was dark now. Everything was dark. No longer blue but gray from years of nothing. The bushes were barely enough to hide her. This was the time when THEY filled minds with illusions so those who never awoke, would continue to live lives as THEY thought it should be.

Hopefully, with luck, everyone was on the same time frame. She stood still for a moment wishing for the warmth of light. You could hide in the light. Suddenly, the door opened and a head appeared. “Now!”, came a whispered voice. Eve moved as quickly, and silently, as possible through the door and into the house. After the door closed, the lights were then turned back on. Not too bright as THEY would see them. Eve could see the windows had been covered with heavy black material. There was no looking in…or out.

“We’re not all here” someone said. “We have to do this anyway” said another. “We must keep to the schedule”. “What if THEY find us?” Eve whispered. There was silence…Everyone knew the answer. “Will we return?” She spoke again…”I don’t know” her friend said so faint she barely heard him.

A shout came from the corner of the house. “THEY know”…Everyone scattered. Eve ran out the front door crossing the street. She could hear screaming and crying as THEY found each person. She had to hide. She ran between two cars. THEY were near. Her heart began to pound. THEY began to move away. Eve opened the door to find her friend. They had found him. His body lay lifeless on the backseat. The bodies would be cleaned up with the sweeper in the morning. The worker would only see the dirt…and the leaves from trees that had long since been dead.

Eve slipped into the car covering herself with her friend’s body. If she could hide this way until THEY left, she could go back and pretend until others awoke. The body had to completely cover her for if it did not, THEY would see. Oh no she said to herself, here THEY come…Oh please…please… let them not see me. Please…She tried to calm her heart beat as THEY opened the car door….Please….Please

Welcome

Stories about dreams; and nightmares. With a little talk, music, and creative thought. Join Rudi as she reads her stories; and those of viewers.