Giver of Dreams (Bad Poem kept for Lines)

 

Archangel betroths my soul.
Calling, demanding,

Stretching vision to hindsight,

My love of the master-my love of the demon

Sets up the future, the desire for life,
Hillsides uplifting, valley's repose.

Taking denouncement, feeling betrayed,

Enduring the wait, feeling the strain,

I come to your breast like a beat in the night,

Thumping in cadence of life ever more.

Come to, wake now

feel life, think time.

You take, you hide,

you keep, you measure,

you keep measure of

my love,
You, giver of dreams.

 

Tax man levies my finale.
Taking, revealing,

Squeezing me to ancestral.
The love of the master-the love of the God
Tears down the past, desires the mort,
Valley's beckon, hillsides avoid.
Reciting the pledge, feeling vindictive,

Released to the wind, numb to the pleasure,
I leave your good hearth like a tone in the light,
Masking the resonance of butterflies' flight.
Come to

Wake now

Feel life

Think, time.
You fade,

you transcend,
You giver of dreams.
You promise,

you renege,

You keep measurement

(of), my love.

 

Giver of dreams,

Giver of dreams,
Paths of desire,

shades of temptation
Finish us here and release the troth
Or pale in the light of desire and pain,
Giver of dreams

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This poem is about a potential lover who will not reveal himself. He holds the key to the relationship but won't allow it to progress, keeping the author in obsessive need.  She sees him as an archangle/taxman (need something better here)which are instruments of society that bring good in a bad way.
I actually wrote this poem/lyrics while proctoring an Advanced Placement Physics exam at the High School. I watched as a brillant child fell asleep with his head on the exam that could decide his future...combined with my own sleeping future I wrote Giver of Dreams.  It is basically an ultimatum poem with the author afraid to recieve the answer she doesn't want.

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Ernest Bevans's picture

Deborah,
The taxman and the archangel is your nemisis.
undream him and find a new vision. For dreams
are not in another person but in ourselves.

The Dalai Lama says "Sometimes in my dreams there are women...When such dreams happen, immediately I remember, 'I am a monk.'...It is very important to analyze 'What is the real benefit of sexual desire?' The appearance of a beautiful face or a beautiful body - as many scriptures describe - no matter how beautiful, they essentially decompose into a skeleton. When we penetrate to its human flesh and bones, there is no beauty, is there? A couple in a sexual experience is happy for that moment. Then very soon trouble begins."

I believe you've said the same thing of the
"seeded finale" here in your poem:

"...Giver of dreams
Paths of desire,
shades of temptation
Finish us here and release
the troth
Or pale in the light
of desire and pain..."

However I must advise you to never give
up dreaming, for in the end it is not
of whom we dream but what we envision
forourselves that really matters.
Dream yourself a complete and fruiful
life full of joy and wonder.

~ ernest

cameca8's picture

Excellent. A very fine poem.

Donald