Waking Finnegan

“We are such stuff as dreams are made of, and our whole life is rounded with a sleep” ~ Shakespeare

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Location: zurich, Switzerland

Saturday, October 29, 2005

Riverboat Dream (This side)

Running barefoot along a jungle "exercise" trail in Nicaragua. "Fuera!" signs posted by Sandanistas are riddled by Contra bullets. I'm carrying a special backpack containing urgent code sheets for the Ortega brothers. War is in the air. Bullets. Muffled explosions. "You are Phidippides. Now run!"

My left hand is sliding along an "energy rail" installed to protect peace-time trekkers from falling over the edge into the churning river. I'm able to manipulate my weight on the ground as well as my forward movement by varying my grip. My feet
are barely touching the trail as I move along in a levitating, air-pedalling sprint. But when I let my grip slacken slightly, the jungle gravity brings everything to a slow-motion crawl. A buzzing, pulsing surge (like a video controller) is being conducted through the railing into my wrist and up my arm. I flex my fingers and eventually locate the proper "energy" grip. The feeling is giddy as my body starts to lighten and I move forward again.

The river is moving faster now as I'm heading up a steep incline. A Mississippi steam boat is paddling at the crest trying to get over. As I move forward along the rail, it's as though I'm zooming through a lens. At the back of the riverboat a wheel of heavy paddle blades is spanking up the river water and churning up a heavy mist. I'm trying to see through the spray to have a closer look. I can hear the firing of the steam engine below the deck and a swinging big band sound is coming through the smoke stacks like a pair of giant grammaphones. The band, the engine and the water churning all fuse to become a cacaphonic wall of abstract sound. As I swivel my head left and right I'm able to locate the main beat by concentrating on the engine. I continue squeezing my hand and turning my head and eventually dial in a righteous "heady" groove. It is narcotic, physical and ready to devour me.

Floating above this mix coming out a smaller set of pipes is Louis Armstrong and Frank Sinatra singing a divine
ode to something lost. It is a heartbreakingly beautiful ballad that I'm familiar with and trying to recall..."What song is it?" But I can't locate it. And after infinite sadness and despair the great architecture of sound is tangled and crossed. The paddle wheel becomes a paddle wheel again and there's no Armstrong, no Sinatra.


Blogger RuKsaK said...

A highly dynamic dream there. I think I would need a night's sleep after dreaming that one. You took me into the head of Indiana Jones with this one.

And, how many years is VLLXV- because that's my word verification today.

1:44 AM  
Blogger Patry Francis said...

Ah, to lose Sinatra and Armstrong--now that IS infinite sadness. Riveting as usual.

4:07 AM  
Blogger Alice: In Wonderland or Not said...

the sinatra / armstrong coming and disappearing makes going back appear banal even though the trip described was hardly banal so it is odd it should seem that way after the disappearanc of sinatra and armstrong.

2:40 AM  
Blogger stella said...

i felt as if i were in this dream too. now i want to place that song as well. something sad and beautiful or upbeat and full of life? hmmm...p.s. thanks for the hug ... :)

4:07 AM  
Blogger . : A : . said...

Wow. This one was very visual. Could see everything happening.

5:50 AM  
Blogger finnegan said...

I've only written the "first part" of the dream, which is why I've added the sub-heading "This Side".
You can call me Finndiana Jones. I won't mind.

I don't even know if Armstrong and Sinatra ever sang together. Now I've got to Google it and see. If not, then I'll know why I dreamt aboout the loss.

Hehe. That's for sure. You'd make an excellent sleuth for my night time ramblings. I'd let you go on up ahead with your big magnifying glass.

Have you ever had a certain magic power in your dreams? One where you can move your body or other objects around with your mind or a certain touch? I use to have a lot more of them when I was younger. I guess dream dexterity lessens as you get older, just as it does in real life.

But we can make up for the loss with such things as digital gestures like hugs and such. ;-)

Me too.

And the Verification Word of the day is (drumroll):LENZYODO
Yoda's long-lost myopic twin? A psychotic star-gazer? A certain twitch that develops in long-time contact wearers?

7:33 AM  
Blogger Pincushion said...

Haunting melodies and bullets..war and peace..love and hate..why is loss always a part of dreams? or maybe i am just sad...
now i'll go listen to some music..

11:37 AM  
Blogger finnegan said...

Perhaps the melodies need to be heard with different ears?

2:50 PM  
Blogger Laurie said...

hmmm, I usually just have sex dreams. I wonder what that means??

6:29 PM  
Blogger _Soulless_ said...

Ooh, I loved the part about the sounds...

a cacaphonic wall of abstract sound

It is narcotic, physical and ready to devour me.

And after infinite sadness and despair the great architecture of sound is tangled and crossed.

Poetic lines. ^_^ Well, Finn, reading you is still one of my fave mind-treats. Hee. (By the way, thank you for the messages you left on my blog while I was away. Yupp, thanks for the concern. Aww, Finn can be such a softie. *grin*)

8:21 PM  
Blogger finnegan said...

I dunno. It must mean you are fertile and need insemination---artificial or otherwise?

Goodness, it's almost surreal to see you back here after all these centuries! I cherish your input and your poems and that you are here again. Woopee!

I am glad as glad can be to treat you to Mindtreats®. It is a product I've been hawking here for nearly a year. Pssst...I give discounts for bulk orders!

Yes, I am a softie. It's strange you know. I've been feeling this strange urge to play mother hen ever since I began upping my egg input.

In fact, I love eggies so much I actually ZAWDUZZN which in Verification terms means I pull out my saw and halve a dozen.

9:40 PM  
Anonymous frank sinatra said...

You honor my name with this. I've got you under my skin...most definitely!

10:25 PM  
Blogger Sara said...

War and music--intense. The poetic intersecting is still rippling outward. I'm particularly intrigued by this bit "...I'm able to locate the main beat by concentrating on the engine." Instant multi-metaphor.

11:04 PM  
Blogger finnegan said...

Frank Sinatra!
Jesus it's Frank Sinatra! It's really you! Can I have your autograph? I'll go halves with you on the proceeds from Ebay.

That engine had a piston-pumping flutterin' that rose through all the clamor like a mechanical phoenix.

11:32 PM  
Blogger transience said...

and after infinite sadness and despair the great architecture of sound is tangled and crossed.


you had better not say things like that, finn. especially when my hair is still wrapped in a towel-turban.

1:00 PM  
Blogger Cocaine Jesus said...

Blimey! I am hob nobbing with Frank Sinatra AND TRANSIENCE. Now I know that I have really made it.

(Finn introduce me to Laurie will you? She looks damn sexy. Frank and Marilyn and TRANS all on your site. WOW!)

New. Names. Zoneing. Posts. On. Line.

4:19 PM  
Blogger finnegan said...

Be careful of your posture Trans. Look who's underneath. The architect designed the floor with magnifying glass.

Monroe, Trans and Frank served up on a glass platter just for you, C.J. Is there anything else you'd like to gawk at?

7:04 PM  
Blogger Sue hardy-Dawson said...

Felt very tired and breathless after reading this, good tension

8:02 PM  
Blogger finnegan said...

sue hardy-dawson
You should get some rest. You've been busy.

8:49 PM  
Blogger gulnaz said...

such a fast paced dream in stereophonic sound as well. the last paragraph is special, soemthing mesmerising about it. btw, the picture is perfect for this post.

11:16 PM  
Blogger Brood Mode said...


6:45 AM  
Blogger finnegan said...

quadraphonic actually. and i wish i could write about these dreams closer to the way they really are. i've resigned myself to the fact that it's impossible. we dream because there's no better way. (what could be more "real" than the unreal?)

glad you liked my photo-shop effects.

brood mode

7:08 AM  
Blogger Cocaine Jesus said...

laying beneath trans is a dream come true and being sandwiched between queenie, trans,stella and souless is a fantasy brought to life. i think that i will stay here and luxuriate awhile!

5:47 PM  
Blogger rhein said...

"no armstrong, no sinatra." so sad, and final, almost. and, what is the song?

7:27 PM  
Blogger finnegan said...

Cocaine Jesus
Don't get too comfortable Jesus, here comes the wife. Think of a better one than this scenario:
Jesus: "Oh, hi Honey-Bunny!"
Ms Jesus:"And just what do think you're doing, Mr. Wine-maker?"

Never found out the song I heard because it was never sung. But it would have been Number One for sure.

9:31 PM  
Blogger stella said...

finnegan: wanted to share this with you. as i was thinking of sending you a thank you the gorgeous banner, i looked up at the sky and saw a meteor flash right above me. ;) i made a wish for the both of us.

1:19 AM  
Blogger finnegan said...

Stella of the shooting star When Cocaine hears about this, he'll turn a bilious shade of green.

The color I hereby dub: ELBOFM, which can also be used to describe moody songs on the radio---the sort of songs that say: "Move out of my way!"

2:49 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

the war dreams are crazy! i liked your use of the name phidipides, the marathon guy. good writing as always!

7:00 PM  
Blogger Sue hardy-Dawson said...

We pebbles are always busy

7:28 PM  
Blogger floots said...

where do i buy that hand rail?
's gotta be better than a Stannah Stair Lift!

9:03 PM  
Blogger finnegan said...

Imagine Phidipides (accent on the second syllable) having accomplished such a legendary run without a shoe contract. Not a businessman clearly.
Thanks for you kind remarks.

sue hardy-dawson
Yes, busy with busy-ness as usual.

Hope you've managed to accomplishe whatever work it was you needed to do.
You can purchase the hand rail at "Bannisters "R" Us. The one I purchased needed to be moved immediately.

ILJOY What you feel after having been sick for 20 days and 20 nights.

9:38 PM  
Blogger Queen Neetee said...

This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

6:39 AM  
Blogger Queen Neetee said...

It’s an unbelievable sensory journey. I think that fleeting moments of power and control gained then lost is felt the worse in dreamland. However, what can be worse than not being able to identify a song sung by two of the world’s best voices? It must have been a total Night Fright.

6:45 AM  
Blogger finnegan said...

comment deleted
I'm curious to know you better, frau deleted---I've always fantasized about being deleted.

queen neetee
I've been listening to Armstrong's Verve recordings lately. Can't get enough of them. His voice is immensely comforting---makes me grateful about being alive. It would make sense to fear his loss.

8:08 AM  
Blogger Enemy of the Republic said...

Oh, this is good. I'm glad I found your page. I'm on the Brim too, but I haven't posted in a while. Do you post a lot there

1:49 PM  
Blogger Enemy of the Republic said...

This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

1:50 PM  
Blogger Perfect Virgo said...

Ah Doctor Jones, so we meet again!Finndiana Jones indeed Finn, you'll be telling me next you're scared of snakes and you carry a whip!!

10:24 PM  
Blogger Cocaine Jesus said...

Did somebody say something about whips?

2:15 PM  
Blogger finnegan said...

PerfectVirgoStone, I presume? I am only scared of snakes when they wear three-piece suits.

You must have another nasty one. I'd better go see who's coming.

12:45 PM  
Anonymous sangre de toro said...

what kind of drugs are you taking man? I want some if it can make me write like this!

4:07 PM  

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