Of infidelity and betrayal.

So I’ve been dreaming these strange dreams lately. Injured eagles. Erupting volcanoes. Aging queens. Dancing snakes. Talking cigarettes. Laughing dogs.  Sometimes, I’m flying, other times I’m fighting. The strange thing is, I can control the outcomes of these dreams most of the times. The only way I know that this is not a dream, is because I”m writing. I could never write, not for a dream.

Morning in a city- Edward Hopper (Image credits)


I was smoking cigarettes all night.
And haggling to buy a sarangi.
I was making love to a beautiful woman.
eyes of an ocean,
lips like moonshine,
Legs, never ending legs and moans,
But she turned into a man.
So long, love, so long.
Her wounded eagle wrote me a sonnet.
My german showed me what it meant.
Of love and lovers.
My heart sinks.
My heart laughed.
It has played it’s part.
I am thinking of leaving,
Of infidelity and betrayal.


4 thoughts on “Of infidelity and betrayal.

  1. I like the way you’ve written this, supertramp. It reads very much like a dream, with the images flowing into one another. I’m curious though, why could you never write (in?) for a dream? Why not?

    • Thank you dragonkatet. Very often, I have these lucid dreams, where I realize it’s a dream I’m living in, but cannot get out of. Thankfully, mostly, I can control the surroundings, design the outcomes and so forth. It’s a personal observation that in dreams, alphabets appear distorted and writing is hence, very difficult. But most importantly, I fear I will create my best work in my dreams and not remember it when I wake up. It’s a strange phobia.


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