Prose poetry from Brian Barbeito

Tiny orangish ladybug with black spots in the left bottom corner of this grey photo.

Secondary Light

(ladybug auspicious, ajna awakener, skate the night, the lady guru is around, for she lives in Electric City)

where is the secondary light? I used to have two. by this I mean lamps. no, three. one was green and one was orange and one was blue but with a white light and built w/a stone base. that lighting was better. the world it illumined more mysterious, the hard edges of reality faded, like in certain good dreams or possibly astral, other world lands filled w/feral reeds dancing for a cosmic breeze, and I stand w/canines beautifully alone, seven of them,- and there was, I was thinking, no end to the lands,- they are literally infinite in all directions. we begin walking, and we are happy beyond the world, a fine and wonderful and boundless joy. 

which brings me to the dream. 

but first the ladybug. a ladybug visited me in the middle and midst of the long lonesome cold dreary winter. it just was there on a wall beside a rosary I bought long ago in Mexico. 

decades and the ladybug.

 I think it is auspicious. and the dream is also…

big strange city, lit up at night, many many sections, perhaps miles long and wide, think Blade Runner meets Wizard of Oz meets The Rolling Stones music, and I am skating on roller skates fast and well, downhill, but not too steep a hill, experts following me that see me and it’s my first time but I can skate fast and they notice.

after perhaps five sections I meet the strange lady eclectic who is the leader, a leader in that faraway section of the odd metropolis, she talks to me briefly. I was there to get salt and vinegar chips of all things, for my beloved and the leader lady’s people couldn’t help me but she threw over a bag but it was a strange unknown brand to me. 

these are not the right snack, I tell her. 

she says, oh ya?- and we begin talking. 

she is beautiful and powerful and dressed in business attire a black skirt and white blouse, and asks if I want my third eye, the ajna-psychic chakra,…touched. 

I say yes. 

She touches it.

For about ten seconds. 

I suddenly see rural pastoral scenes like a highly advanced animated art form moving fast, and in one a duck chases after a bike going from left to right on a property and the scenes and the feeling is that it is free spontaneous living alive not contrived and it has a high energy. everything is in green blue and black. 

the lady stops and says to return later. but she speaks. like anyone. doesn’t use telepathy though I am sure she could. 

I go back to where I came from amaz-d,- to find Tara. I find her finally and tell her I have to go back to see again the lady that touched the third eye for she had said to come back again. 

there are people on the outskirts of the city. 

walking. 

talking. 

people being people. 

Tara says ‘If you must-‘

a luke warm response. 

and I go back again. Or try to. the strange lady is halfway there,- waiting, leaning against a wall. she knew I was on the way think. – and smiles and is happy I am on this way- and turns to have me follow her. 

she is somehow a part of my people spiritually but knows much more than I, at least about that strange city of electric light. 

I am skating. 

I yell out w/ joy at the top of my lungs at how fast and free I am going amidst those places, primal great real real real real real joy. I jump and fly through the air for a bit. 

but then I go where I should but can’t find her. I keep looking, scrambling. she is not reliable. but I don’t right off want to admit it to myself. 

something is wrong. 

why does this have to happen like this?

that whole place is hard to navigate. 

a security agent at a check point stops me and says something. I can’t hear him. I 

think I am in trouble though have done nothing wrong. 

He repeats ‘zoom’. 

I ask, ‘Zoom?’

‘You should zoom,’ he says. 

I say, What?- and he says then, ‘…zoom,…it’s what is written on your bag so you should do that.’

I wasn’t really aware I was carrying a

bag, but he was right. 

Like a white duffle bag or duffle bag type thing. but the same route is taken to further off, like an arcade type setting. I see someone I think could be her, that looks like her, but when I get closer it is not.

disappointment. 

no other would do save for she. but she is nowhere to be found that strange gifted chakra lady, that master of third eye manifestation and manipulation. 

though there are many people around, everyone is a stranger. 

I go back. 

I find Tara. 

But it’s not before a long journey, to parts of the night electric city that don’t work- like an escalator that doesn’t function. And the people walk on it knowing it hasn’t worked for a long time and that part of the city is on the outskirts, not as interesting. but the people take it literally in stride. 

Tara wears white. 

we begin to leave, and i steal a glance back. I can see that in many parts there are so many lights that you’d think day was breaking or dusk had barely begun. 

they must hum like a spiritual download but I can’t hear them then. 

and i knew, as in reality, that it was still night. where was the electric city? Electricity spells electric city. that is strange. was it real, was it imagined, or somewhere in the middle somehow?  was it on an astral plane? why did it feel hyper real,- and who exactly was the ajna awakener?

I longed to know the answers even before I awoke. 

then the dream vision ended. 

I remained still. ‘Remember remember remember,’ I told myself. ‘What were the curving streets I had skated down made of?’ some had interlock brick, I told myself,- yes I noticed that. and the buildings?- how about them,- every different design one could think of,- even an architect, I reminded myself,- yet I didn’t remember anything too high, more than say,- five stories. and more- beyond words also- the feeling,- the connection w/the guru, if she was a guru- master of some sort. and the fast skating, a certain freedom even in a strange place. 

and a thought…hadn’t I deserved to skate like that, having skated my whole youth and adolescence in real life from age seven or eight onwards?- nothing it seems, but skating. I had began not being able to hardly stand on skates, and by the end I was usually the fastest skater on the ice. 

‘Remember remember remember, because even when you think you have remembered everything or much,- there is often or perhaps always something recalled that you had forgotten. The bigger the chunks of dream you remember,- the more chance you have of arriving at some other memory within the chunk, around the chunk….’

I even tried to re-enter the dream. a long time ago, I could often to this,- by quickly forcing myself back asleep. I must have done it thirty times successfully through those past years. 

but i couldn’t do it this time. 

some skills you lose.

hopefully others you gain. 

and I breathed deeply then the fresh air from the close open window, air clean and against logic and reason, full of the good and robust and coldish night. I felt a tinge of sadness as the dream slipped away further from me, and more sadness when the FEELING the dream brought began to recede further and further. 

I had always wondered where dreams went when we left one another. 

And I had always had the idea that it would be interesting to view one’s life in dreams from birth to death, a biography and chronology of dreams. 

I stood and looked out the window then. 

some streetlights lit the world somewhat and softly. bits of snow wafted down if you looked a little closer, like some invisible or hidden  someone was up there just a above the electric light dropping handfuls of it. 

I liked the bulbs and glow even if I didn’t love them. 

I guess they would have to do as secondary light until I found a lamp again. 

~~~