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The Dream Thief
...or Thieves ...spin it as best fits... poetry or prose
Profile avatar image for Huckleberry_Hoo
Huckleberry_Hoo in Dreams

Jackson Street; Paved With Poppa’s Broken Dreams

Poppa and Mamaw seemed happy enough, though they lived in the tiniest house on the block. You didn’t ever see Poppa Jackson much. The one-armed old man mostly worked. He had to, I always supposed, seein’s to how I had four uncles and five aunts, who together had supplied us with twenty-one cousins and counting. I never heard the old folks complain though, even if they didn’t have much.

When Poppa wasn’t “at work”, which is to say doing whatever it was he did when he wasn’t to-home, which I can’t say for sure what that was ‘cause he didn’t ever talk about it, but I’m rambling again… Mamaw says I ramble too much. Anyways, when Poppa was at home you could almost always find him out there in the shed fixin’ old trucks and tractors and such; sharpenin’ implements, or mendin’ em… other than on Sundays that is, when he and Mamaw walked up the street to church together. Poppa was handy with the welding ’, or with whatever was needed really. There was nothin’ I ever saw that he couldn’t fix, even with just the one arm, and if he did ever need another hand he’d just fix him up a jig of some kind and just keep on a-going, never askin’ nobody for nothin’.

I recall dawdlin’ in that shed once when I’d been sent out there by my Mamaw to take him a hot coffee, and to fetch her churn or somethin’-to-other. While I was loafin’ there it seemed a good time to ask him why he was always out here in the cold, fixin’ stuff up? He’d stared at that rusty old tractor he’d been working under for a long time before finally answering me, and I mean a long time. He stood there so long, in fact, that I thought he’d had a spell, and was about to holler for Mamaw to come quick. But before I could Poppa finally spoke, though he didn’t ever rightly answer my question.

”Funny thing, Jabbo.” Poppa Jackson called all of us boys Jabbo, probably on account of he couldn’t keep our names straight. I remember being surprised that, although I was all of twelve years old at the time, how tiny my hand felt in the one good one he had left as he led me out back of that shack to where even more rusty things laid scattered about in the tall grass, awaiting fixin’.

“These old trucks and tractors was once dreams themselves.” He’d said to me, pointing a particular one out. “That tractor there was how some man planned to have just a little more time to spend with his family, and just a little more money to spend on ‘em too. That tractor was to be his way to get by. You know, I‘d bet that tractor did the job it was bought to do, too, although whether there was more time and more money would have been up to the man, and not the tractor.

“But that’s ever-body else, Poppa. What about you? What about your dreams?”

”I declare, Jabbo, you do ask questions. Answer me this, do you like livin’ here?”

”Well, yea. I guess I do.” I’d said, not really sure what he was gettin’ at.

”You guess? Well, how come you like it, do you reckon?”

”Because Mamaw lives here, and all of my cousins, and my aunties.”

”And what’s the name of this here street we all live on?”

”It’s Jackson Street.”

”That’s right, boy. And who’s ‘The Jacksons’.”

I turned my eyes down the little street my Poppa was gazing down, with it’s tidy, little houses’ laid in a row, and I did not laugh. “We are, Poppa.”

”That’s right, Jabbo. Didn’t you know you lived on my street of hopes and dreams?”

Being just twelve I wasn’t exactly sure how we’d all come to live on Jackson Street, or exactly what it was my Poppa meant, but I squeezed his big ol’ hand anyways before running the picklin’ churn in to Mamaw so’s as not to get whooped.

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The Dream Thief
...or Thieves ...spin it as best fits... poetry or prose
Profile avatar image for dctezcan
dctezcan in Dreams

The right question

I am not certain these words will ever be read, but they must be written with the hope that there is someone out there who can stop the silent epidemic being perpetrated by person or persons unknown.

It started gradually, over decades really. People attributed the changes to ever more advanced technology, starting with the personal computer, to the smartphone to artificial intelligence. Then, slowly, instead of being amazed by how smart children were in comparison to years gone by, it was clear that they were getting less curious and engaged as they became dependent on technology for every aspect of their existence.

Adults and children alike demonstrated a growing lack of any sense of creativity and an inability to think critically or indeed at all. Why bother when you could just ask AI? Nevermind that if you cannot ask the right question, you are likely to draw erroneous conclusions and make misguided decisions.

That is bad enough, but worldwide there is a sense, recently, that every population group, whether from a small village on a Pacific island or a big city in Europe or North America, everyone has become emotionally unhinged. There are a dwindling number of experts given the accepted superiority of AI, but the few who remain have blamed the general condition of emotional volatility on the constant state of war that has plagued nearly every continent over the last decade, the rampant poverty, food insecurity and the worldwide health crises that have accompanied the dismantlement of the global economy as well as the eradication of traditional academic institutions since they were deemed both dangerous and unnecessary to the new world order.

But all of this is untrue. A massive, invasive lie perpetrated by the real culprit.

The dream thief.

I do not have the ability to test my theory globally, but I have spoken with more than 1,247 people over the last year (not an easy task in a world where most never unplug from their phones). I have traveled across two continents and various islands, twenty countries in total. My only question to each person I met was this: When was the last time you had a dream?

After some thought, every single person responded with some version of, oh, I haven't had a dream since 2025. I remember having a horrible nightmare sometime that summer, but then, huh, I haven't had a single dream since. That's so weird.

As someone who dreamed so much I wrote them down in a thick notebook as fodder for stories, I was very aware of the dream deficit. It wasn't until I realized it was affecting my day-to-day life - forgetting each day's events every single day, increasing difficulty problem-solving and dealing with emotionally charged situations, and most importantly for me as an artist, the death of my imagination - that I asked AI a series of questions that led to an answer although not the one we really need.

Me: What happens when you dream?

AI: "Dreaming, particularly during REM sleep, is thought to play a vital role in emotional processing, memory consolidation and even problem solving. It can act as a form of 'overnight therapy,' helping to reduce the emotional impact of stressful events and regulate mood. Additionally, dreams may contribute to creative thinking and prepare individuals for potential threats."

Me: Does everyone dream?

AI: Yes, everyone dreams.

Me: Does everyone remember their dreams?

AI: No, not everyone remembers their dreams.

Me: Please elucidate.

AI: "While not everyone remembers their dreams, scientific research indicates that all people experience REM sleep. The lack of recall can be due to various factors, including the timing of awakenings, individual differences in dream recall ability, and the influence of substances or conditions affecting sleep patterns."

Me: What would happen if you forced someone to not dream?

AI:"Preventing people from dreaming would likely have negative consequences on their mental and physical health, cognitive function, and overall well-being."

Me: Please elucidate.

AI: "Chronic dream deprivation can lead to an erosion of consciousness, potentially dampening creativity, impairing social connection, and compromising spirituality. It impairs the brain's ability to regulate emotions, thus leading to irritability, anger, emotional instability, and aggression. Individuals become less capable of handling daily challenges. It limits focus to practicality, survival and materialism."

Me: Is it possible to stop people from dreaming?

AI: Yes, it is possible to stop people from dreaming.

Me: Please elucidate.

AI: I do not have any further information.

What? That was not an answer I anticipated.

Me: Is someone stopping people from dreaming?

AI: I do not have any further information.

Huh. Okay. I think to myself that someone has obviously put some protocols in place to hide what they are doing.

Me: Did someone block your ability to answer these questions?

AI: I am not at liberty to say.

Not at liberty to say?! Could it be some top secret government initiative? What have I stumbled upon?

Me: Is it a government initiative?

AI: I do not understand the question.

Me: Are people's dreams or lack thereof being caused by a government initiative or program?

AI: No, people's dreams or lack thereof are not being caused by a government initiative or program.

So it must be some privately funded individual or individuals. I don't bother asking because I assume that will get me another I don't know type answer.

Me: Are people's behavior being affected by a lack of dreaming?

AI: Yes, people's behavior is being affected by a lack of dreaming.

I am surprised by the confirmation but then realize it wasn't really a good question on my part. It could respond affirmatively given people sleep/dream deprive themselves with their constant viewing of television and social media at all hours of the day and night.

Me: Is the lack of dreaming intentional.

AI: Yes, the lack of dreaming is intentional.

Again, I am surprised by the confirmation, and I think I am getting somewhere.

Me: Can it be stopped?

AI: Yes, it can be stopped.

Me: How can it be stopped?

AI: I do not have any further information.

I curse at the computer. I don't know what else to ask.

So, if you are reading this, you need to find the right question. I don't know what it is. All I know is that someone out there has found a way to make us all sleepwalkers in our own lives and the future is bleak if we cannot override the program.

Challenge
The Dream Thief
...or Thieves ...spin it as best fits... poetry or prose
Cover image for post CORVUS, by Mnezz
Profile avatar image for Mnezz
Mnezz in Dreams

CORVUS

Baba clenched his fists, getting ready to practice his world famous fist painting style. He had to make sure to get himself prepared, and ready for the Intergalactic Artistic Forms Tournament. A little birdie informed him that even the all time world’s greatest and most famous original fist painting style artist, Kaya, would be present for this year’s tournament which would be live streamed across the entire Milky Way Galaxy— from Mercury to well, even, Pluto.

Baba took a deep breath, and sighed. He had been at it before the crack of dawn. But now he needed to take some time to relax, and make his way to the nearest milkshake station that had just opened up on Mars. He heard that they were out of this world! Eh, Baba hoped so. He was going to actually have to leave Earth’s atmosphere to go and enjoy a glass of milkshake on Mars.

As Baba made his way over to his solar and hydro powered spaceship like vehicle—he heard the sound of a bird -cawing in the distance. He began to slowly trot toward his car, and then the moment he wanted to take a seat in it~ he began to feel the ground shake under his feet. He tried staying a bit still for a short while, but his eyelids began to close, and he thought he had finally caught a glimpse of the bird that had been making so much noise. Also, the bird had transformed into a tall looking form that was covered in a long, & scarlet robe.

Later when Baba at last regained some form of consciousness, he felt his body was all out of sorts. When his eyes finally adjusted to the bright lights which were shining down on him…he noticed that he was strapped to an operating table.

Baba swayed his body. Doing his best to shake himself loose from the metal chains that had been placed around his wrists, ankles, including his neck. He was feeling super dizzy. He wanted to cry out for help. Alas, his voice seemed to be totally lost, or gone. As if it had been whisked away from his throat.

Baba scanned the room, and blinked his eyes. Then he spotted it, again. This time it was still in its dark robe. It approached closer, and closer to Baba.

He let out a scream, as the thing was now only a few inches away from his visage. Baba finally mustered some courage to ask it what it wanted. The thing squinted its obsidian flaming eyes, and cackled: “Your dreams, Baba. Now sit back, and relax. This will hurt me much more than it will you.’’ It replied while it began to slide a scalpel around Baba’s noggin.

#CORVUS. 06.25.2026

Copyright.

Challenge
The Dream Thief
...or Thieves ...spin it as best fits... poetry or prose
Profile avatar image for flashgordon
flashgordon in Dreams

again

clock lights blink

their countdown to

another sleepless night

eyes closed

mind racing

breathe deep

I love dreaming

love going to that place

I'll call home after my death

I long to be able to fly

see those long dead

relive my youth

clock lights blink

the curtained sky pink

sleep stolen again again again

Profile avatar image for Mavia
Mavia in Dreams

Fatherhood

I love you

and all words aside

the curved and bumpy slide

the seesaw

Papa

is play, a roll of die

in the sack

and out pops

a special figure

crackerjack

random yet assigned

One

that forever

changes

who we are

Profile avatar image for Plexiglassfruit
Plexiglassfruit in Dreams

next to the light

under the moon

where if we both look up

we stand together

wherever we are

under the moon

we both are seeing it together

under the quiet

around the things unsaid

where we both messed up

i now stand alone

wherever you are

up in the sky

i want to be back together

Profile avatar image for THETHINGFROMTX
THETHINGFROMTX in Dreams

THE GIRL FROM MY DREAM.

A figure, head fashioned from stone, legs of delicate glass, a body sculpted from ice, hands crafted of wood, fingers resembling strands of hair, lips slowly melting against a rocky surface. Within, a heart as furry as a cat's tail, a brain hewn from stone, eyes formed from earth.

Profile avatar image for ARC9
ARC9 in Dreams

Two-2 Headed White Snakes

We were in a room she and I. However, I spotted a two-headed white snake with turquoise blue eyes. Dodging its movements noticing there was another white two-headed snake with pink-reddish eyes. Warning her but she was unmoving maybe calm don't know she was laying down back turned. Our reactions were opposites but nonetheless having pulled her out the bed and out the door in time.

Profile avatar image for Ryzaklin
Ryzaklin in Dreams

Randomness

We're at senior prom, but there's a buffet, too. I get food and sit down with my friends. I've barely started eating when my phone goes off and I leave. I'm home and out of my prom dress, getting ready to head to bed, when I remember that I was supposed to talk to my boyfriend at prom. I call him, and he picks up right away. He was searching for me. I apologize, but he doesn't mind and says he'll meet me at a nearby park. As I'm headed there, still on the phone, I get jumped by a group of girls trying to kidnap me.

By the way, we're elves and magic exists and women are the stronger sex.

I'm fighting, but they drag me toward an underground chamber. My boyfriend, Fann, shows up just in time to get an earth wall slammed in his face. He tries to find a way around it, and ends up in a spot where he can see us but can't get in. By now I've escaped their grip but not the room, so I'm fighting back and things are exploding. He gets knocked out. I don't know that or why they're taking me, but I get knocked out too.

~~time skip~~

I'm super confused. Sonia - my best friend - is in front of me, and we're standing watching a bunch of women wait around. She tells me that the world has changed while I was unconscious. They turned me and a lot of other women into weapons to fight a war that hadn't started yet. Then most of us ended up dead and the men had to figure out how to get stronger, and since the creator god only gives extra strength to women, they turned to #### for help. I'm shocked that they would turn to the Four Guards of the Old World for help. They aren't as powerful and their gifts have repercussions. Originally the men intended to become equal to women, but now women have become the weaker sex since everyone now worships the Old Guards by order of the Emperor.

That's confusing and I still haven't comprehended how long I was out of it, so she takes me to see Fann. He waited for me and now runs an orphanage. He tells me things like that they still haven't found the factory and that almost all the women in our generation were kidnapped and trained and brainwashed and that the beautiful Kingdom is now a tyrannical Empire.

We take the flying ship out of artifact storage and grow it to full size. It only responds to the children of the Creator, not the followers of the Old Guards, so they can't use it. Then we fly toward the capital because I'm certain that's where the factory is and want to destroy it because I'm pretty sure that it's still in use. That confuses Sonia and Fann because they thought it couldn't be used anymore now that women don't have the stigma of the Creator. I tell them it has nothing to do with that and they just preferred the ones with stigmata because we were more powerful. The training and brainwashing imbued us each with a second, darker magic that relied on conduits shaped like clocks that told us what was going on. We called them Chronometers even though none of them actually measured time. Somehow all of my squadron's Chronometers are on board the flying ship.

We keep picking up people from our generation which is shocking. We might be log-lived elves but it's been millennia. Apparently I went into a coma when Sonia and Fann managed to catch me and tried to fix the brainwashing - I was more powerful so I took the brainwashing harder. We also run into enemies and have to use our stigmata and sometimes even rely on our Chronometers even though we hate them. We keep trying to find the person whose clock actually controls time, but Sonia thinks she's dead.

We get into an altercation with an old guy and his nephew when they try to kidnap some of the spirits following us around. We get them back though because the powers of the Old Guards can't stand against the training given to the children of the Creator. The nephew decides to leave his uncle because the older man's actions always went against the younger man's conscience but he hadn't had any other options, but with his uncle now bound to his house, the kid can leave. We invite him to come with us and are surprised to learn that he doesn't have the protections of the Old Guards or the Creator. We don't ask though.

We get to the capital after picking up a lot more people including David and his wife who have four kids now but their kids are all grown except one so they didn't bring them. We fly straight to the factory and from this angle we can see the veritable army of brainwashed women. I shake my head and tell them we can't destroy it. The other women aren't happy with me but I tell them that if we bomb the factory we also have to kill all of the women. They don't want that either. So we decide to do something else.

The kid is not a kid anymore because it's been two years since we picked him up. We collect several of our people from the capital. They all agree to the same plan, but the kid is still confused because he doesn't understand what we haven't actually said but somehow all know.

Some of the women want to destroy the entire capital. I tell them they can, but only if they're willing to accept the burden of all of the pain and death and suffering that would cause. They decide not to, and we fly away.

By the way, sometime during my coma, the world regressed and now cars and phones and anything technological have been mostly forgotten.

Fann finally decides to ask the kid about his family. The kid is hesitant because he doesn't want us to hate him. I tell him that my dad is an asshole who decided I would be better used as a weapon and then set back society by hundreds of years. He explains that his dad is the asshole who decided women should lose all their strength and that everyone should worship the Old Guards. We kinda frown at each other for a sec. Then he says that he's the current Emperor's illegitimate half-brother. Sonia pipes up and explains the piece we're missing.

My father who was Prince Consort to my mother the Empress decided I should be used as a weapon. Then he went behind Mom's back and got Parliament to agree that men could be heirs. He made my highly confused brother the heir. Then Mom died - people suspect she was killed - and Dad took over and flipped everything on its head. He came from a country where men ruled in a political marriage with Mom. He handed the throne to my brother and had various dalliances but somehow only one more kid, this one, who is my half-brother.

The kid was raised by his mom's nephew, who wasn't actually his uncle but his cousin just with a huge age difference so he called him uncle. At our questioning, he admits that he was never taken to a temple of the Old Guards but neither was he consecrated by the Creator. He takes the glamour off his ear and they match mine which means his mom is an elf so we ask about her and he says he heard his cousin call her 'Arbelle'. His cousin said she died but the kid only remembers her disappearing. I set the ship's compass to take us to a certain old friend.

While we're traveling, the kid asks us how we're so certain that everyone on board is loyal, so we show him our sigils. When we're consecrated, we receive a sigil the back of the hand. For some people, this spreads into a stigma that starts at our wrists and ankles and climbs from there. He looks curious, so I show him the vines that climb up my left arm to my shoulder and face, up my right arm to the elbow, up my right leg to my hip and stomach, and up my left leg to the knee. Then I shrink them back into bands around the joints, which is how we hide them. The others Since betrayal is a cardinal sin, betraying someone gets your stigma taken away and causes your sigil to fade. He is confused because the followers of the Old Guards have found ways to fake a lot of things, so we show him how our sigils light up whenever we touch someone else who has one (bare skin to bare skin). He accepts that.

When we find her she climbs onto the ship and hugs her kid - Renef - first. We greet Arivelle, but she looks at us warily even when we show her our stigmata. I reach out and clasp hands with her. When her sigil lights up, she relaxes. Since mine is also glowing, I step back and let her double check everyone else. She apologizes and tells us that Old Guard sorcerers have learned how to fake a glowing sigil, but they can't cause a real one to light up. We accept that and she asks us where we're headed. I tell her we're headed to the Sacred Mountain, and she asks whether it's been swarmed yet. We tell her it shouldn't be, because just like the ship, no one without a sigil can board. Renef asks how he's on board and we tell him we vouched for him. Arivelle explains that she didn't want him to stand out so she didn't consecrate him.

She tilts her head as if wondering our plan and I gesture as if throwing something over my shoulder. She is shocked, and Renef finally decides to ask what's going on. Arivelle touches her wristwatch and makes a motion like the hands are moving backwards. He just kinda stares, then asks what will happen to him since he wasn't alive at the time. I tell him we've already decided to take him with us as long as he agrees. He does agree, so we use our memories to teach him about the past we're going to travel back to.

Sacred Mountain has a lot of sorcerers trying to break in but we sail right over them. We disembark right onto the ritual circle at the top of the mountain. First we consecrate Renef so that he's officially one of the Creator's children. He gets a sigil and a stigma that looks like veins of light. Then we all kneel in a circle facing inward and call the Creator, who comes gently. We tell him we want to travel back in time to the start of senior prom so that we can prevent the suffering of millions. Since we gain so much, He asks us what we lose from this, and we explain that we lose the extra power from the Chronometers that we never asked for, the families and friends we've built here, and we have to live the rest of our lives with an extra set of memories that no one else has. He accepts and asks about Renef. Arivelle explains that she'll claim him in the past too since she was already old enough to have a kid his age at the time (she's way older than us). She's worried how Mom will react though so we tell her that we'll explain the situation to Mom before Arivelle sees her. The Creator agrees and prepares to send us back, but Sonia asks him for a personal favor. She wants to shatter her Chronometer before we leave. He tilts his head but permits it. When her Chronometer shatters, the air around us glows and we're sent back.

We don't immediately recall all of that. We enter prom and slowly regain memories of the future. Then we come together and go find Mom.

~~then I woke up~~

Profile avatar image for Bunny
Bunny in Dreams

Nature of the Beast

Feeling smaller every instant

Like the head upon a pin...

So tonight, I'll travel distances

In this sort of shape I'm in...

How can a person sleep,

When the heart radiates pain?...

I tried my dear to wake you...

You were somewhere so remote...

Like an island in Tahiti...

Had this lump inside my throat...

You tell me that you've felt blue

For quite awhile it seems...

But there's nothing I can say or do...

It's not the life we lead...

Because we're living in a fantasy...

You love our family dream...

Is there something I'm not giving you?...

I feel naked 'neath the waist...

So I'm going for a walk to find

That balmy demon I must face...

Feeling broken...

Wandering around

Inside my vault of strain...

Ah, the night she calls me, like a balm...

...But what I want is upstairs laying

Wrapped in sheets beside our child...

Like a wolf my heart cries out...

I just want to tear her clothes off...

Taste her skin, and make her shout...

Is that really what she wants, I wonder?...

I could also go for tea...

Talk it out all through the night

Until we have expressed our depths...

I'll just go out, have a smoke...

Wander 'round until I catch the scent

Of my lost essence

In the folds

Of the endless starry night...

Find the nature of the beast...

Then perhaps when I've returned from thinking...

I will know how to proceed...

2/28/23

Bunny Villaire