Category Archives: poetry

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For approximately the next 7 days, my book Dreams: Guide to the Soul will be sold at a promotional discount at http://www.drstevenfox.com

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Why Does Rumi See Life As a Dream That Must Be Interpreted?

Enter Rumi's World with Dreams
Enter Rumi’s World with Dreams

The great Rumi shows his profound understanding of life:

“THE DREAM THAT MUST BE INTERPRETED

This place is a dream.
Only a sleeper considers it real.

Then death comes like dawn,
and you wake up laughing
at what you thought was your grief.

But there’s a difference with this dream.
Everything cruel and unconscious
done in the illusion of the present world,
all that does not fade away at the death-waking.

It stays,
and it must be interpreted.

All the mean laughing,
all the quick, sexual wanting,
those torn coats of Joseph,
they change into powerful wolves
that you must face.
The retaliation that sometimes comes now,
the swift, payback hit,
is just a boy’s game
to what the other will be.

You know about circumcision here.
It’s full castration there!

And this groggy time we live,
this is what it’s like:

A man goes to sleep in the town where he has always lived
and he dreams he’s living in another town.
In the dream, he doesn’t remember
the town he’s sleeping in his bed in. He believes
the reality of the dream town.

The world is that kind of sleep.

The dust of many crumbled cities
settles over us like a forgetful doze,
but we are older than those cities.

We began as a mineral.
We emerged into plant life
and into the animal state, and then into being human,
and always we have forgotten our former states,
except in early spring when we slightly recall
being green again.
That’s how a young person turns
toward a teacher. That’s how a baby leans
toward the breast, without knowing the secret
of its desire, yet turning instinctively.

Humankind is being led along an evolving course,
through this migration of intelligences,
and though we seem to be sleeping,
there is an inner wakefulness
that directs the dream,

and that will eventually startle us back
to the truth of who we are.”

Interpreting your life as a dream often gives you deep insight at http://www.drstevenfox.com

New Age Bestsellers

http://www.amazon.com/Best-Sellers-Kindle-Store-New-Age-Dreams/zgbs/digital-text/158493011/ref=zg_bs_nav_kstore_5_158479011#1

Steven G. Fox
Steven G. Fox

You May Say I’m a Dreamer, but I’m Not the Only One

Pray That This Song Was a Predictive Dream
music-john-lennon-imagine-lyrics-colour-14160-23485_mediumYou may Say I’m a Dreamer, but I’m Not the Only One
http://m.youtube.com/#/watch?v=MeEvLB64fcg

http://www.drstevenfox.com

Kubla Khan: Great Poem from a Dream

Kubla Khan was a great poem by Samuel Taylor Coleridge which was inspired by a dream. Enjoy!
kubla khan
Author: Samuel Taylor Coleridge. 1772–1834

Kubla Khan

IN Xanadu did Kubla Khan
A stately pleasure-dome decree:
Where Alph, the sacred river, ran
Through caverns measureless to man
Down to a sunless sea. 5
So twice five miles of fertile ground
With walls and towers were girdled round:
And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills
Where blossom’d many an incense-bearing tree;
And here were forests ancient as the hills, 10
Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.

But O, that deep romantic chasm which slanted
Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover!
A savage place! as holy and enchanted
As e’er beneath a waning moon was haunted 15
By woman wailing for her demon-lover!
And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething,
As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing,
A mighty fountain momently was forced;
Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst 20
Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail,
Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher’s flail:
And ‘mid these dancing rocks at once and ever
It flung up momently the sacred river.
Five miles meandering with a mazy motion 25
Through wood and dale the sacred river ran,
Then reach’d the caverns measureless to man,
And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean:
And ‘mid this tumult Kubla heard from far
Ancestral voices prophesying war! 30

The shadow of the dome of pleasure
Floated midway on the waves;
Where was heard the mingled measure
From the fountain and the caves.
It was a miracle of rare device, 35
A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice!

A damsel with a dulcimer
In a vision once I saw:
It was an Abyssinian maid,
And on her dulcimer she play’d, 40
Singing of Mount Abora.
Could I revive within me,
Her symphony and song,
To such a deep delight ‘twould win me,
That with music loud and long, 45
I would build that dome in air,
That sunny dome! those caves of ice!
And all who heard should see them there,
And all should cry, Beware! Beware!
His flashing eyes, his floating hair! 50
Weave a circle round him thrice,
And close your eyes with holy dread,
For he on honey-dew hath fed,
And drunk the milk of Paradise.

**Have your creativity inspired by my book at drstevenfox.com

My Creativity Is Voracious and Is Eating Me Alive–This Is for the Birds

PR angel: at the International Birdman Competition in Bognor.Dream 191: My Creativity Is Eating Me Up

A 30-year-old man dreamt that he was looking at apartments in the town where he grew up. The first apartments were all desolate and decrepit and did not look fit for human habitation. He came upon an apartment complex which was well-built. As he looked up at the multi-storied complex, he saw bird men sitting in a row on a ledge. These half human, half bird men were just sitting there inactive, with an occasional ruffling of feathers.

The dream shifted to him being inside one of these luxury apartments. He remembered trying to go into the kitchen, but a bird man blocked his way. He was then surrounded by bird men in the living room.  The bird men began eating him.

Dream 191 Interpretation

His early life was confusing to the point that he ran away from home when he was twelve. He lived on the streets, staying with friends, most of whom lived in apartments. The early run down apartments in the dream were an accurate depiction of his early life which, of course, had a major impact upon him.

The high-rise apartments are describing his more recent development. He was a complex person who wrote poetry that was quite good. Birds can represent freedom, and he was a very self-reliant and independent man. The birds are inactive early in the dream. Flight is often indicative of spirituality. His spirit not flying was ruffling his feathers.

He did not have a job that he could tolerate. He felt compelled to write, but had recently stopped writing because of depression. The dream is saying that he wants to create (the kitchen is a place of creativity), but he had writer’s block. Not writing was making him depressed, it was figuratively eating him up.