Posts Tagged ‘dreams’

Waking Up in a Dream

June 8, 2018

 

I worked for a year as a handyman at the power station of Bethlehem Steel in Burns Harbor, Indiana. One day the foreman sent three of us into the fan duct of a boiler that was offline for repairs. We entered through a small door on the side of the boiler. In order to see, we hung up a work light plugged into an extension cord that was plugged into a socket outside. Inside was a little ledge we could sit on before the duct became a shaft that dropped to the fan below. When the boiler was operating the fan blew air up through the duct we had entered into the furnace to feed oxygen to the flames.

Our job was to sit on the ledge and knock off as much scale as we could reach. Not an important job, but the boiler was offline and the boss didn’t have anything else to do with us that day. Certainly it was a better job than cleaning out fish remains from inside the reservoirs under the water pumps.

One of the other guys was doing the regular rounds on the working boilers. He stopped by to look in on us. Being a junior Einstein, like the rest of us, he realized what great fun it would be to close and block shut the only access door to the duct. In the process, however, he also moved the extension cord and loosened the plug in its socket. Our only source of light went out.

The three of us found ourselves in total darkness sitting on a ledge above a drop into a narrowing shaft leading to the blades of the boiler’s fan. In such a situation you must remain cool, joke about your entombment, and plan your revenge on Junior Einstein. I do thank God I was not alone. The voices of the other two helped orient me.

A half hour later Junior returned full of mirth. He swore he had not known the light had gone off. He said he was sorry. So we all went back to work. But with our eyes wide open, not for safety issues, but for a good chance for payback.

Two or three nights later, the dream began. It is always the same. I am trapped alone in total darkness. I can’t figure out where I am. I panic. Stumbling and bumping into things, I begin to explore. In the dark I come up against a wall. I grope my way along the wall trying to find a light switch or some way out. The dream ends when I find something familiar and realize where I am or when someone else in the house turns on a light to see what’s going on. Then I am revealed with my hands creeping along the wall of wherever it is I went to sleep. I am not sleepwalking. I am fully awake when I get out of bed, but the world around me in the dark room continues the world that was around me in the dream. I am awake but still in the dream.

It has been forty-seven years since I worked at that power station, but at times I still wake up in that dream. It’s strangeness has gotten me banned from staying at friends’ houses. Ever since the dream began, I have always tried to sleep with some source of light. Ordinary dreams can be very unsettling but when a dream crosses over into the waking world it is a living terror.

The dream is always with me, somewhere in my mind, waiting its next rebirth, waiting to slip out into my waking world. The dream lives on as a part of me, and we will remain together until we die.

 

Copyright © 2018 by Michael B. Smetzer.

 

The Lighted Hall. Photo by Vera Lisa Smetzer.

The Lighted Hall. Photo by Vera Lisa Smetzer.

Her Brother’s Debt

February 19, 2018

 

Owing his widowed foreman a great debt,
the brother brought his sister overseas.
She came mute, her thoughts folded
     in her bags.
At breakfast she listened like a table
     to their sounds. 

She married with his dishes in the sink. 

She has unleashed the foreman’s toddler
     from the line.
She has taught the foreman’s son to sing,
his oldest daughter to braid her hair,

and the foreman to snore gently
through her dreams.

 

First published in Chants.

 

Dreams - photo by Vera Lisa Smetzer.

Dreams – photo by Vera Lisa Smetzer.

A Love Poem

July 12, 2017

 

As serious as a colony of bees
to do the Queen’s bidding,
we gather berries wild and fresh.
You won’t let the dog out
of the car for fear she will pee
where we might pick, you want
nothing to spoil your dreams
of dessert tonight.
It is tonight I think of,
under this inhospitable sun
offering myself as a feast
for Maine black flies.
After supper, you’ll add
Alizarin Crimson to your
watercolor painting.
I’ll write a strawberry poem.
We’ll walk the dog and race her
home to the front door.
Later as moonlight shares
our bed, I’ll know you
enjoyed your strawberries,
know this day has made you happy.
I’ll touch you gently as you sleep,
close my eyes and sigh.

 

First published in Echoes Magazine.

Vera Lisa Smetzer on Steps

Vera Lisa Smetzer on Steps