the dreams dreamt by Richard Cacioppo
the mad monster maker
feet, feet not sure where they
had landed. Was there anything
I knew for a fact at this
moment? Was I more than a
floating apparition to the things
that seemed to move around
me? I noticed movement to the
left, it was a group of people, that
for some reason looked quite out
of place, in this picture.
It’s like I had landed in a
place that had no
because the clothes they wore was right out of some time
line, way back in the early nineteenth century!
To my right, there was more bystanders
that drew my attention.
In clothes again right out of some other period. When? Could have been
seventeenth, sixteenth or any other century... it made no sense what I saw.
With all the oddities surrounding me, I churned within myself. If you smeared to
many episodes of the Outer Limits
together, entwined one upon the other. This was it.
And still it rumbled below me quivering through the soles of my feet.
What was it below, that raised and fell like some bile
forcing its way up the back of my throat. My unrest grew more heightened with
each passing swell. Did I think swell?
And then I realized, with all its raging force, was the sensation
coming from the waves just beyond and then focused into my sight!
Below me lied an ocean of black so dense no creature could ever live beneath its
surface. With one constant contrast, the stark white crests of the waves constant
turning.
This was the tremors I felt below my leather,
nothing was at peace in these terminal waters.
How deep did it go?
And did it really matter for my tale?
I think I would soon find out!
My eyes swayed up to a sight in the distance.
A ship from my day and age. A comfort liner.
I must get there for my own sanity to stay intact.
I must get there at all cost.
I will climb down in this black beast of water and make my way
to that place that looks so appealing in my sight!
I thought in my hysteria,
that this might be my way out from this time,
that mixed me up in it.
No one here to ask the words, "Did my feelings made sense?",
"You from the past! Is that the way out?"
and then I bellowed,
"Over here you fine clods.” “Is that the way out?"
and with all of my might, I thundered my words,
"Will anyone answer my question?” “Is that the way out?"
And all at once I realized that my queries were left in my head. That I was in this
place and all I had were the hands before me and although I was sure that God
had given me a mouth to speak I had none to spout my irrational
fears and turmoil of heart.
For this was meant for me . . .
a place for unrest in my dreams,
for nagging nightmares
and most of all . . . for NightScreams!
I think I calmed down enough to notice that beyond that liner I could see another
ship. Once again, it made no sense. This was a ship that pirates sailed and
men walked planks to deaths deep below! And sails blew strongly with a wind
from nowhere. So I struggled with my hopeless fate. That I was lost in a place
where no help would ever come, even if my voice could scream or my body found
some bomb to blow.
I looked out on the deck and found shreds of me that were willing to chance within
myself, that I could muster the courage to rid myself of this boat and swim to that
liner, in blackest sea.
"Oh dear God, is this the end of it all for my being?”
“Is my time on this earth gone already?”
“Am I doomed to live no more?”
“I wont believe it.”
“I wont except it!”
“I deny it.”
“I loath it!”
“I protest it!”
“I will not go down without a fight."
I turned to my left then I turned to my right.
With sealed lips in anger and dismay, turned in a grunt
of disgust.
I ran up to those people fully expecting to bump right into them, instead they were
thinner than air, as they were the apparitions in this dream.
They were like posters on some wall and
only 3 dimensional in design!
My fear turned to gags and my gag into stone.
I was alone and confused in this place, baron of people.
I did not know if those ships held some hope for me.
I thought to myself,
“Surrounded by people and no one to talk to.”
“Loneliness was my companion.”
I looked down at my hands, the only physical self I had and wondered. If I give
up and accept this as an end, I'll always be wondering what lied upon that ship.
I'm just not built like that.
I must get from this deck.
I must make that next step.
I just must.
The only thing that mattered was my will to survive.
My senses knew it to the core.
And I was grateful that I knew that much.
It didn't even pass through my thoughts,
if this dream was a dream at all.
To look for a boat to sail to that liner, out in the blackest sea. I rolled my spirit to
the edge of the railing and saw down into those churning,
dismal waves of blacks and whites.
Again, saw no other way out.
So I jumped!
The Next Dream!