Magnetic Poems and a Nightmare

 I recieved a magnetic poetry calendar for Christmas of '08, and have decided that I will, on the first of each day of the month, make a magnetic poem (I may of course make more over the course of any month as boredom and inspiration see fit, but the idea is to do at least one a month).
So, here is the one for January:

Calm is our love
I know this
She is warm
like spice after dark

And here is February's, not quite as warm-fuzzies:

Beautiful industry of candy
Let the dream year grow
but then fire all life



Now, before signing off, I'd like to relate an odd dream (technically a sort of nightmare). Most of my dreams are odd, made odder by how rarely I have them (note to self: an entry someday on recurring dreams, I certainly have my fair share of those), but this one stands out particularly vividly. I have no idea what it means, but unless I'm genuinely worried about what a dream does mean I'm not usually the type to try and sort it out. It's also rare that I remember a dream so completely--this one stuck with me almost in whole.

I was in some sort of odd mashup, atmospherically and architecturally, of Ancient Rome and Feudal Japan. At least I think I was me. I felt like me, anyway. I was in a large clearing in a pine forest, that had a few small temple-like buildings but most prominently a large (small-house-sized) sort of structure/device that looked like some sort of elaborate merry-go-round at its center. Several men (and, I think, maybe one or two token women), dressed in garb appropriate to the aforementioned cultural blend, approached this structure, looking displeased about it. They were all wearing light armor and were quite physically fit--I got the impression they were soldiers of some type. They stepped up to the main working area of this merry-go-round, which instead of horses or other riding structures, just had wrist and waist restraints, and locked themselves in, arms stretched to the sides in T-positions. Then it began, slowly to spin. Several of them hung their heads. Up until this point, I had been curious, now is when I remember getting that "wait...something's wrong" feeling. A very, very soft mockery of circus music started to play, but it was quickly swallowed up by the loud mechanical noises of the device, which began to spin increasingly faster and not really seeming like it could, odd small bits of it flinging off and several bounces and grinds accopanying the whirring and clicking of unseen gears, flywheels and pistons. I started wincing when I realized that the occasional occupant was getting a flailing leg smashed off or crippled as it caught one of the decorative pillars surrounding the thing. Others starting showing random torso lacerations from sources I couldn't see. They didn't cry out, didn't squint, showed no evidence of pain, they were just taking it, blankly. Then, suddenly and simultaneously, they all slowly raised up their heads so that they were looking me in the face as they passed by, cocked their heads at slight side angles, and opened their mouths. Out of them, in perfect sync, came a low, sad moan, that didn't increase ever in pitch but steadily increased in volume, until it began to compete with the machine noises. As it did so, their mouths grew more and more open till they were stretched to their limits, their eyes sunk into their sockets, leaving empty black holes behind, and their skin grew paler and paler, until the group moan collectively cut off as the occupants'/victims' lower jaws were simultaneously ripped from their faces by an unseen force. I woke up sweating and in the middle of crying out in shock and horror.

Holden Out.