Poetry War: Past and Future


Nostalgia dreams suffocating, 

I awake remembering their

sacrifice to prove Vimana fly,

terraforming Earth before they died.


The past remembers suffering

the price of rediscovery,

weeping as her future children strive

to dismiss sages past ruined lives.


The last breath of an airless dream,

I stare into the darkened room

wondering at past’s accomplishments,

weeping at future’s indifference.


Family visiting from the city say they enjoy the fresh country air at my home.  It’s presently around 60 degrees, and the fan in the window provides ample circulation.  So then…why did I wake up suffocating?  

When I dream, the scents, sights, sounds, emotions, colors become me.  Some days, dreams are exhilarating.  But not this one.  I was asleep at 7pm, gasping for breath around 10pm.  

The dream started well, as a young man I set out to prove that Earth could be terraformed to support life.  Why was it needed?  With my world dying, I was the person who could prove it possible to make Earth support human life!  At the end of the dream, I indeed started walking along the pathway of possibility, and I died suffocating on an airless Earth.

As I stood in the shrinking bubble of air left on Earth, my last thought was, “Because of me, a new civilization will never have to suffer our mistakes.  My sacrifice will be remembered for eternity.”

In the twilight between wake and sleep, I became both past and present. Past wondered why his future progeny didn’t remember or appreciate the sacrifices of heroes long dead.   Future carried into wakefulness the emotional scars of incalculable loss.

I cannot express the collective sorrow at eons of understanding washed away by resolute ignorance.  The parents of our past watch as the children of their future needlessly expend energy to rediscover what we should already know.

Am I psychic?  Not even close.  If I had to put a number on it–with 1 being brain dead and 10 being Yoda–I’d have to say 3.  

Do I believe dreams are real?  They feel real at the time, but I don’t have the educational or spiritual level to tell you for a fact that what I saw represented actual past events. 

Am I insane?  That depends greatly upon your definition of sanity.  If you believe insanity is doing the same thing over and over again expecting a different result, then there isn’t a single person on this planet who doesn’t fit that description.

I guess I’m safe from institutionalization…for now.