"Are you so sound asleep?"
they asked me last night
in the dark - of my dreams
The nights after I had drunk deeply of the heights,
eclipsed the stars with my brightness,
and purchased all the divine
The days when all I lusted was perfect
in the silver reflection of the high rise
When I created fictions for thousands
and they bought me
so readily
just as long as I held the crown
"Will you ever wake up?"
they asked me last night
as I wrote savior across her skin
and again; the next
in the dark
as we waltzed, desperately numb
running from the sleep we dreamed would never come
Comfortable
in the oblivion of her arms
until she broke me
and walked away to the next hollow shell
all the while breathing herself away
trailing shards of her heart
hoping to hide the pieces in the next hole
the next one's empty scars
"Does blindness come so readily?"
were the words they forced through my holes
as I spilled poison through my chest
and the colors began to erode
Dizzy
finding the devil in the glass
as I crucified myself with the cold
in dark corners of noisy rooms
Finally, I shut them out
stopped my mind against any questioning
kindled myself in lucid designs
and enticed myself with forms I had inhaled before
but had never really held
and yet, the craters were never full
so I closed my eyes and slept
numbed myself to the deadening pain
"Can your eyes be so heavy,
that the ghosts we've left behind have died?"
they scrawled across my iris
embedding revelation on my mind
"Was this all you wanted in your life,
to seduce yourself into sleep?"
But I ignored them, and ran deeper
into the empty
into the dreamer's disease
Author notes
Basically, this poem is based on a dream I had a day or two ago, about a man who is chasing something more.
He starts with money, power, and fame and gains it all. The crowning glory is his. But the crown is passed on to the next bright star, and he is left, empty, to break. Next he seeks his fulfillment in a woman, only to have himself torn at she breaks away.
Then he turns to drinking, only to find that it cannot fill the holes he knows are there. Finally, he turns to pornography in an attempt to satisfy himself, and again, is not made happy.
All this time, there is a voice whispering in the back of his mind. Wake up. There is something that you are not seeing. Open your eyes!
Does he wake up? I don't know. But I do know that we all suffer from a similar sickness; the dreamer's disease.
Written October 26th, 2006
A contest entry
- A Call To Dreamers by Fairweather.
330 points, ended February 11, 2007, 33 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest - Give me your best ! by vasi.
700 points, ended March 10, 2007, 123 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What did you think
Comments
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I really liked this poem, I thought it was very creative and I thought the metaphor was really good. It's amazing how far a dream can go, it created a great poem. Message me if you want your score, make sure to include the name of your poem. Thanks for enteringt.
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