Living In Another Long Dream

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Poem Commentary

This poem came to me 2006 in the rainy time of September in Georgia. It almost seemed like it came to me in a dream form though I was awake. I wrote feverishly to capture it's story which I am not still sure I fully understand.

Living In Another Long Dream

Living In Another Long Dream

I

Deep inside the September season
Rain bites down bereft of meaning.
Like velvet shards of falling glass
I am sliced open without protection.
Opened at every point I'm cut to the quick
As each drop explodes upon me.

"Where have you been old friend",
Upon the wind I hear crying out. I reply,
"like those who stayed I was afraid,
I too would be of the lost and forsaken".
Save the wind's ghostly kiss, no answer comes
As the bitter breeze blows across my lips.

Then to the beat of my rapid steps
Celestial chimes resound in time,
Echoing eerily about the hollow hills.
With a daunted glance, by chance I catch
My reflected outline's stark and aged stance,
As a lean, long shadow, drawn into a dance.

Sudden thunder brings about a spellbound startle
As the Sky's ruler sends down a lightening strike.
Thor has come, the mighty son of Odeon
Whose hammer now I can almost clasp.
Held within this swollen Georgia storm
It's incessant downbeat seeks to engulf me.
It twists away, all around me aglow in orange
Mesmerizing my eyes in its translucent color.  

Inside I feel it speaks as if to say
To my pitiful somnambulating self,
"You are asleep again to live within
another one of your long dreams".
                   

II


The deluge shifts like a killer's knife
I plunge for cover out of this inky night.
Into a small desolate shanty shack.
Here I am invited into a sudden opened oasis
It's somber settings seem somewhat strange
As if stolen from a stage in a Jean Cocteau play
The walls are all alive, and all the objects move.
Their animate minds inquire for my attention.

I enter a room at whose center sets a feast.
Of every delectable choice be it fruit, cheese or meat.
This most pleasant edible appetizing array
Lays betwixt two large candelabra's stay.
Their flickered flames entice as they accentuate
The minutest morsel's glisten and glean.

This sumptuous tantalizing array of food
Creates a heightened state inside my mind.
It begs a raw sensual rapturous response.
My now soaring heart is set a flutter.
Yet inward I immediately know
That to indulge upon the gifts bestowed
Is paramount to becoming beholden
In servitude to my yet unknown host.
                     
III

Then from a shrouded source I hear
These soft spectral words announced,
"You are me and I am thee
On this point I quickly diagree 
Yes, upon these somber words
I must most vehemently contest.

Feeling provoked to the point of
Almost losing all hope, I must invoke
A resolute and unwavering exit plan.
I find no doors so implore out
To whomever may be the house's lord.
"Release me now from apparent state
From which you hold me now restrained!"
 

After a short interval, the delay of a long instance,
A doorway ahead slowly splits ajar to impart
Oracle grades of incandescent light.
The room floods full with glories to behold,
Brazen beyond all art form's finest beauty.
So resplendent resounds a superlative song
On every octave of aesthetic invention.
To attempt to reinvent the august
My eyes had the providence to behold,
Is a notion too absurd beyond reason.

On this fine euphonious note
I swiftly sought to find the fortitude
To make my escape; to be released and retreat
Such infinite wonders held within these inner chambers.
Once outside my wings began to open wide,
Into the vast expanse of dawn's early light.
Gone is the night and I have awoken
From living in another long dream.

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sandyb commented on Living In Another Long Dream

11-04-2012

Wow, what an excellent poem. I absolutely loved it. I am a lucid dreamer and remember most of my dreams very clearly. I don't know why but it keeps me excited about trying to figure our why I dream the things I do. This reminded of that. Just sharing...

windsongs commented on Living In Another Long Dream

12-24-2011

ive had some crazy dreams-well written account-aall i know is Jesus spoke of his love for the savory meats-good write-love the rain!

swiftbird2C

12/24/2011

Thank you for your encouraging words.

Poetry is finer and more philosophical than history; for poetry expresses the universal, and history only the particular.

Aristotle (384 BC-322 BC) Greek philosopher.

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