The Mechanics of Dreaming

By Trish Nichol

The Mechanics of Dreaming is a book of poetry, an exploration of the happy medium between the practical and the absurd. An attempt to find some sort of sense within the madness that comes as a result of dwelling on both sides of the looking glass simultaneously. Some of it rhymes, and some of it doesn't, much like life.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trish Nichol
• Release date: Mar 8, 2022
• ISBN: 9781775255109

Trish Nichol

Trish Nichol is an unrepentant weird girl, who very much likes to write and fix things. Her preference is to be barefoot and laughing, given the option.

Book preview

A story has to start somewhere

You can't build a roadmap to such things. It's akin to a development that unfolds the more steps you take. And you can forget about refolding it into something that resembles the place where you started. That's what dreams are. Unconscious evolution.

Lessons

A late night lullaby

of needlepoint and stars.

A knitted and cosmic afghan,

this not quite blanket somehow

contains more warmth than cocoa.

Small fingers poke through holes

that were already there,

too many cracks to fill.

Rocking chair mainstay,

wrapped on a lap

and sung to.

Melodies of times long gone

Dust covered lyrics of songs

archaic in their naivete,

as the desire to be timeless

fades in the garish light

of progressive modernity.

Kissed goodnight and left alone

with angels watching from shadowy corners

Thick drapes pulled tight against streetlight influence.

This is where I learned to dream,

revelling in darkness,

absolute.

Embodiment

I am comprised of stories.

Words find themselves at home in my flesh,

etch themselves upon me

Soliloquies suspended subcutaneous

Shadows following calligraphic contours

haunt the corners of my eyes,

Their swirl and sweep will make you dizzy

if you look too intently.

It’s better to let them sidle up alongside.

I carry words on my feet that carry me,

They describe all the places I’ve been,

All the places I’ll go

And they speak of rest

with the same enthusiasm

as adventure.

This is a dance between mind and fingers

A connection that bleeds ink,

brazen and humble in equal measures.

A black character on white page

pursuit of something

consistently honest,

Even when it isn’t true.

Trickster state of Mine

I'm the patron saint of trickster gods

Deceit my stock and trade

I'm bombastic with the blarney

Mad for the masquerade

I weave tapestries of half truths

With fire in my eyes

There is mischief in my maybes

And delight inside these lies

A giggle just below the surface

I watch you play the sleuth

But