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Dream About Spirit Or Specter meanings

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#1 Dream Interpretation #2 Dream Examples

Dreaming with Spirit Or Specter may be related to...

Dream Examples

Example: Poem understanding help!?

i am trying to read Ode to a Nightengale by John Keats and i dont understand it, i get the mortality and escape from reality part sort of but at the end does his life change and does he hear the birds song differently at the end than earlier in the poem. and also how is it related to the spirit of the romantic movement?

In reality, the nightingale sings by day and night, but in poetic tradition, it is a bird that sings only at night. In a poem, if you're hearing the nightingale's song instead of the songs of daytime birds, it means that the sun has set and the world is dark.

For many poets, nightfall is a symbol of death. The end of daylight represents the end of life. It has often been said that the two great subjects of poetry are love and death. Keats isn't writing a love poem here. (His ode expresses love of nature, but not romantic love for another human being.) He's writing a poem about death. At the start of the poem, he has heard the night bird's song and his thoughts are already tending toward oblivion and death. As the poem progresses, the beauty of the bird's song makes him think that death is not only dark and scary, but also beautiful. By the end of the poem, his thoughts are suspended between sleep and wakefulness, between reality and the world of dreams.

To find out more about how this poem fits into the bigger picture of the Romantic movement, use your favorite search engine to research these topics:

John Keats
Romantic Poetry
William Wordsworth
Percy Bysshe Shelley
Samuel Taylor Coleridge

*******...

Ode to a Nightingale

MY heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains
My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk,
Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains
One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk:
'Tis not through envy of thy happy lot,
But being too happy in thine happiness,
That thou, light-wingèd Dryad of the trees,
In some melodious plot
Of beechen green, and shadows numberless,
Singest of summer in full-throated ease.

O for a draught of vintage! that hath been
Cool'd a long age in the deep-delvèd earth,
Tasting of Flora and the country-green,
Dance, and Provençal song, and sunburnt mirth!
O for a beaker full of the warm South!
Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene,
With beaded bubbles winking at the brim,
And purple-stainèd mouth;
That I might drink, and leave the world unseen,
And with thee fade away into the forest dim:

Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget
What thou among the leaves hast never known,
The weariness, the fever, and the fret
Here, where men sit and hear each other groan;
Where palsy shakes a few, sad, last grey hairs,
Where youth grows pale, and spectre-thin, and dies;
Where but to think is to be full of sorrow
And leaden-eyed despairs;
Where beauty cannot keep her lustrous eyes,
Or new Love pine at them beyond to-morrow.

Away! away! for I will fly to thee,
Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards,
But on the viewless wings of Poesy,
Though the dull brain perplexes and retards:
Already with thee! tender is the night,
And haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne,
Cluster'd around by all her starry Fays
But here there is no light,
Save what from heaven is with the breezes blown
Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways.

I cannot see what flowers are at my feet,
Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs,
But, in embalmèd darkness, guess each sweet
Wherewith the seasonable month endows
The grass, the thicket, and the fruit-tree wild;
White hawthorn, and the pastoral eglantine;
Fast-fading violets cover'd up in leaves;
And mid-May's eldest child,
The coming musk-rose, full of dewy wine,
The murmurous haunt of flies on summer eves.

Darkling I listen; and, for many a time
I have been half in love with easeful Death,
Call'd him soft names in many a musèd rhyme,
To take into the air my quiet breath;
Now more than ever seems it rich to die,
To cease upon the midnight with no pain,
While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad
In such an ecstasy!
Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain—
To thy high requiem become a sod.

Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird!
No hungry generations tread thee down;
The voice I hear this passing night was heard
In ancient days by emperor and clown:
Perhaps the self-same song that found a path
Through the sad heart of Ruth, when, sick for home,
She stood in tears amid the alien corn;
The same that ofttimes hath
Charm'd magic casements, opening on the foam
Of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn.

Forlorn! the very word is like a bell
To toll me back from thee to my sole self!
Adieu! the fancy cannot cheat so well
As she is famed to do, deceiving elf.
Adieu! adieu! thy plaintive anthem fades
Past the near meadows, over the still stream,
Up the hill-side; and now 'tis buried deep
In the next valley-glades:
Was it a vision, or a waking dream?
Fled is that music:—do I wake or sleep?


Example: What is the meaning of a blue owl in my dream?

In my dream I was inside looking out at the most magnificent blue owl I had ever seen. Once I made eye contact, the owl would fly out of sight for a moment and then it came back down to the window where we looked into each others. I then pulled my phone out to get video of the owl and he was gone. I don't even know if blue owls exist and never have thought anything of owls so this dream was completely random. I still can't get over how powerful it was, his shades of blue (midnight blue, specifically) and his eyes. It was a night sky also.

Example: A dark figure electrocuted me in a space between sleep and wake? What happened?

I asked this question before, but didn't really get an answer I could use. I'm not really in a position to go to a university and talk to a physics professor, so I'm asking on here again. XD But anyway...

A few weeks ago, a dark figure was standing outside the wall I was sleeping against, up on the balcony across the way. It was staring down at me, but had no face, no features. When I closed my eyes, I was standing on the other side of the wall (outside), staring up at it. But when I opened them, I could see my room around me. I could move to scratch my head, and close my eyes again to see this 'dream'. I thought greeting it would be a good idea for some reason, so I said 'hello', and I suddenly felt this electric shock through my body, and I couldn't move. I opened my eyes and saw my room, and still felt the shock for about 3 seconds. I freaked, thinking I had just let some demon into my body or something, and I don't even know how, but concentrated on trying to purge it. I felt another shock, was paralyzed once more during this 3-4 second period, then crawled over to my friend, thoroughly wierded out. The thing is I wasn't horrified. Maybe i was in shock. I wasn't afraid anymore, but I was... wary it would happen again? I've seen things like this shadow all my life up until this incident, and since then, nothing. Anyone have any ideas? The strangest thing is that my friend later described this thing while she was scrying about me, and said it had it's arms wrapped around me, was protecting me. What the freak does that mean? I'm confused. -_- It's tall, has cat-like ears, or maybe spike flame-shapes coming out of the top of it's head, is lean, all black. Feels maliscious, but not toward me. It didn't feel... like a threat. It was just... weird. Any thoughts? Anyone?

Example: Can you help me? Oh, I mean with a title? *sigh*?

The wind has blown away ashes
Of all that once was green.
Castle walls stand crumbling
All that remains of a dream.
There is a hollow wailing
In the catacombs below.
I stand upon the clifftop,
Entrapped by vertigo.
Wind, please lift my spirit,
Carry it away.
Send my body to the rocks,
Let the worms come as they may.
I cannot find the reason
To start my life again.
I have no ambition
In this game I cannot win.
So being a spectator
Or a spectre; point is moot.
The haunting is with malice;
The will, to execute.

Example: Whats going on in my room? Ghost?

Well it all happened last night . First of all , i don't think ghost are real. But sometimes in my house its just creepy. So anyways , my cousins were sleeping over ( down stairs .) and i was sleeping in my bed alone. Im 11. I had an alarm clock in my room and so it woke me up around 4 in the morning . So I was about to turn it off but it was so dark and creepy. I just had very weird feeling like i I wasn't alone , even though I was parabolay the only one awake . SO I just tried to close my eyes to sleep. But then I starting hearing thees noises like wood moving. Still , I tried to sleep. Then I heard like my keyboard typing or something. I looked and no one was their I got the feeling someone was watching me. I was so freaked out I , I ran to my moms room and said I had a bad dream , so she just for little bit and left . It felt a little bit better I guess. I finally fell asleep. I didn't ell no one about this.

This wasn't the only time . Its very creepy!

Example: What do you think of my poem about sylvia plath?

Sylvia
Holding on to an Ariel
Joining the ranks of the suicide
The moribund, maudlin narcissistic klatch
While endeavouring to be the perfect bride.

Beyond the world of invigilated exam halls
And coruscating, glinting awards
Oh! how you tried to have it all!
Was it all for the love of a mother?

Disquieting muses and disquieting Hugheses
Ted, was he meant to be your saviour?
And so the bell jar cracks
But yet you sank to your nadir.

Perhaps the susurrus of your soul and heart
Bellowed to a scream
How you suffered for your art!
How you suffered for your dream!

Writing letters to your mother every day
While father lay cold and dead
The sadness and sorrow you repressed
The hopeless thoughts buring within your head.

And so on that faithful night
After a cutting, bitter winter
You decided to escape and take flight
From a choking, stifled life.

Oh Sylvia! I will not judge
Nor attempt to understand
The wronged wife, the doting mother,
The genius poet who decided to aband

Although the spectre of blame
Is fixed in many a corner
I choose instead to cherish the incandescent flame
That is your work, your blood.

And so in the serpentine rhythms
Of woe and despair
The map of your soul and heart
The treasure bequeathed to your heirs.

This is your lasting legacy
The narration of your life
For now your memory
Has been etched as true poet

Sylvia, the depressed perfectionist
But Syliva. Courageous, restless spirit.

Example: Isn''t it amazing how history repeats itself when we fail to learn from it?

The following is an excerpt from a speech which was given in 1964. Still we do the same things today. Give illegals a "Path to citizenship" let them collect social security and welfare, try to appease the radical muslims who's only goal in life is to kill americans. isn't it about time we wake up and stop trying to appease people who hate us?

Those who would trade our freedom for the soup kitchen of the welfare state have told us they have a utopian solution of peace without victory. They call their policy "accommodation." And they say if we'll only avoid any direct confrontation with the enemy, he'll forget his evil ways and learn to love us. All who oppose them are indicted as warmongers. They say we offer simple answers to complex problems. Well, perhaps there is a simple answer—not an easy answer—but simple: If you and I have the courage to tell our elected officials that we want our national policy based on what we know in our hearts is morally right.

We cannot buy our security, our freedom from the threat of the bomb by committing an immorality so great as saying to a billion human beings now enslaved behind the Iron Curtain, "Give up your dreams of freedom because to save our own skins, we're willing to make a deal with your slave masters." Alexander Hamilton said, "A nation which can prefer disgrace to danger is prepared for a master, and deserves one." Now let's set the record straight. There's no argument over the choice between peace and war, but there's only one guaranteed way you can have peace—and you can have it in the next second—surrender.

Admittedly, there's a risk in any course we follow other than this, but every lesson of history tells us that the greater risk lies in appeasement, and this is the specter our well-meaning liberal friends refuse to face—that their policy of accommodation is appeasement, and it gives no choice between peace and war, only between fight or surrender. If we continue to accommodate, continue to back and retreat, eventually we have to face the final demand—the ultimatum. And what then—when Nikita Khrushchev has told his people he knows what our answer will be? He has told them that we're retreating under the pressure of the Cold War, and someday when the time comes to deliver the final ultimatum, our surrender will be voluntary, because by that time we will have been weakened from within spiritually, morally, and economically. He believes this because from our side he's heard voices pleading for "peace at any price" or "better Red than dead," or as one commentator put it, he'd rather "live on his knees than die on his feet." And therein lies the road to war, because those voices don't speak for the rest of us.

You and I know and do not believe that life is so dear and peace so sweet as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery. If nothing in life is worth dying for, when did this begin—just in the face of this enemy? Or should Moses have told the children of Israel to live in slavery under the pharaohs? Should Christ have refused the cross? Should the patriots at Concord Bridge have thrown down their guns and refused to fire the shot heard 'round the world? The martyrs of history were not fools, and our honored dead who gave their lives to stop the advance of the Nazis didn't die in vain. Where, then, is the road to peace? Well it's a simple answer after all.

You and I have the courage to say to our enemies, "There is a price we will not pay." "There is a point beyond which they must not advance." And this—this is the meaning in the phrase of Barry Goldwater's "peace through strength." Winston Churchill said, "The destiny of man is not measured by material computations. When great forces are on the move in the world, we learn we're spirits—not animals." And he said, "There's something going on in time and space, and beyond time and space, which, whether we like it or not, spells duty."

You and I have a rendezvous with destiny.

We'll preserve for our children this, the last best hope of man on earth, or we'll sentence them to take the last step into a thousand years of darkness.

We will keep in mind and remember that Barry Goldwater has faith in us. He has faith that you and I have the ability and the dignity and the right to make our own decisions and determine our own destiny.

Thank you very much.

-Ronald Reagan

Example: Mono Black Deck Build?

I'm building a black deck right now for casual play and was wondering how you guys would rate it and what if any changes you would make to it? L
Planeswalkers:
1 Sorin Markov
1 Liliana Vess
Creatures
1 Nightmare
1 Soot Imp
2 Abyssal Specter
3 Drudge Skeleton
2 Nekratall
1 Dread
4 Ravenous Rats
2 Severed Legion
1 Mortivore
1 Ascendant Evincar
1 Crowd of Cinders
1 Royal Assassin
1 Sengir Vampire
1 Phage the Untouchable
1 Avatar of Woe
1 Hollowborn Barghest
Spells
1 Plague Wind
2 Megrim
1 Lilianas Caress
1 Duress
1 Corrupt
1 Disentomb
2 Raise Dead
1 Hideous End
1 Mind Shatter
2 Unholy Strength
2 The Rack
4 Mind Rot
2 Diabolic Tutor
2 Consume Spirit
4 Terror
2 Underworld Dreams
Land
25 Swamp
1 Vault of Whispers
4 Cabal Coffers
Going to replace all Mind rots wit hymn to tourach and replace all megrims with lilianas caress. Was thinking of adding more duress and hypnotic specters as well as maybe some dark rituals. Any suggestions to make this build better?

Example: Freaky dream...?

I was playing with a wiji board and I talked to this spirit named Cathy. She seemed friendly.
That night when I went to bed, I had a dream that I was walking out of my house. I closed the front door. But then it just swung open and there stood Cathy! I knew it was Cathy because the description fit her like she told me. I then woke up. I looked at my clock and it was 3:15 a.m---Satan's hour!

Could this mean anything? Or am I going nuts?

Example: Questions on spirit guides?

I don't believe in them but I am doing a school project about ghosts and spirits so I would like to know about this whole concept and what they are.

1. What really is a 'spirit guide'? (I've heard people say that they are people that you used to know in a past life?)

2. Will they ever make their presence known to you, if so, how do you know?

3. Can you to talk them?

4. How are you connected to them (can they read your thoughts), how are they chosen to be specifically your guide?

5. How are they different from Guardian Angels?

Please, if you are not serious and if you do not intend to answer each question then don't bother to answer!

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