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at the dream

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i went to the dream wearing spats,
butterfly or man,
i knew not which

on the beach,
for a change
don't fear harpoons

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

i set my will against the sea
to hold my little pile of sand
toil and render with fine hand
what nights and days could understand?
What 5 blind men could comprehend?
each their own, and aardvark too

Being-for-Itself,
I owned that name
and if you were there you'd claim the same
alas! the tide washed away my fame
leaving me in an unauthentic frame

now i haunt
and am haunted by my castles
strewn haphazardly along the shore

I raise my fist against the rain
gravity
this rain tastes of salt!?
rail against the stinging wind
I will not let go my piece of dream!

A cry I hear out in the sea
Bosun! Bosun!

I know that voice, 'tis Prospero
I did not know that day was nigh.
My island
My streams

I've lost my spats.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Ok, I know this one is all over the place, and it could use some tightening up and I will get around to it, but even in this state I think it works. Think of it as an overture. *********** I think the aarvark bit was a stumble, but I haven't been able to figure out how to get the humor in without it, so thus it stays until I do.

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last updated 30 October 2010 - 12:06am
©25 May 2003 - 1:40am — arindhol
12 July 2003 - 5:34pm — S74RW4RD
S74RW4RD's picture

I disagree with most of your own assessment, which is unduly harsh toward the poem; although I do agree with your observation that the poem is an overture, and therefore should present several themes and variations. You have accomplished that. The aardvark should be right where it is. I cannot imagine how this poem could use any tightening up---an overture is supposed to be a somewhat sprawling issue. You have done very well in this poem, and your authorial comment at the bottom does not reflect how well this poem works.

Starward