This poem is kinda out of context, it was part of a poem-based story I was writing, (it doesn't really work out though, so I've kinda given up).
Anyway, before anyone comments on who nonsensical the poem sounds; keep in mind that its supposed to be somone's dream. Any thing that resembles social commentary, actual meaning is likely not supposed to be there (thats not to say I didn't sneak some of that in there.
).
At the same time, this was a not to subtle joke on purple prose and over-sophistication in writing, but thats not really the whole point of the poem. xP
Without further ado:
Anyway, before anyone comments on who nonsensical the poem sounds; keep in mind that its supposed to be somone's dream. Any thing that resembles social commentary, actual meaning is likely not supposed to be there (thats not to say I didn't sneak some of that in there.
).At the same time, this was a not to subtle joke on purple prose and over-sophistication in writing, but thats not really the whole point of the poem. xP
Without further ado:
Dream Observatory
“Is there meaning to the words I speak?”
I asked the raven up above.
“Only if you believe you’re words’ are not weak”
Rang a response reminiscent to love.
So began the descent
So decided life’s intent
for my decision truly affects my life
And the lives that surround me
“Awaken; to the joy and strife
Awaken; so that you may see”
The raven spoke again.
Who can feel? Who can think?
Who can find my mind in the sink?
Who can see? Who can be,
The dream I see in the telescope?
Survival screams and lays its eggs
Guarantees a future fortune
In the night she weeps upon the streets,
Denying life’s enforcement
A touch can sway the power of the ageless wall
The blind man can see the deaf hear the raven’s call.
If I draw a shadow in the penetration’s view
Will the gods sit around the table and watch everything I do?
If I were to trade my youth for the wisdom of age
Would I still taste the flavor of the sage?
And should I walk across the field
Writing the book to turn the page,
And should I take a measure of my yield
Will I awaken still locked in a cage?
The power of a weeping mind can’t equal a deaf soul
For the tears that fall to the ground are as noiseless as the sun
And should we cross the bridge to love will we pay the toll
Of lifeless dreams that mark the crosshairs of the gun?
The light of darkness rings louder than the bell
That calls the lifeless to the power of the well
And so the trade leaves balance achieves little nonetheless
And so decided is the potency of a test,
And now we take the weight of the meaning of the text
And pinpoint the location of our unearthly guest.
A seat at the theatre can’t guarantee you’re truth,
Just as running through the field can’t resurrect you’re youth.
A day in the life of someone you once knew
An understanding of another perception of what was you
Time can’t believe in what can’t be spoken
And love is as love does till its broken.
The stones of my home roll right down the hill
And the days I’m alone whittle slowly at my will
And in the sands on the shore
Lie relics of the holy war.
Time can take what it doesn’t need
But will always sow another set of seeds
And when it returns to see us bleed
It looks about and cries, “such a shame.”
But life can’t bear the blame
And death is not our name.
Pawns upon a chessboard, in the middle of the game
Move to offer the queen a better position.
What face can we take to express the creeping pain,
Of life, of love, of blood, of shame?
And as a testament to our quickly passing hour
We build with pride our tower,
Because we just can’t let us die
Not if we can’t try,
To make the illusion of time and intrusion
And the might of the muscle of our feeble wills
As we manufacture our hate at our ‘angelic mills’
From where we watch the farmer as he tills
The grain that makes our bread
Which feed the world of gun and lead.
A tale of the man who lost his head,
Dreaming for the dawn.
And so your heroes and saviors
Invite you to the song,
To cut down all the nay Sayers,
That claim our day’s are gone.
Power to the station; love to the nation
For life’s accepted the invitation
To attend the lover’s dance.
And now as reason collapses
It seems we have a chance.
Well the sun has risen and now is gone
But I still have a verse or two of the song,
Silently sung by the last breath in my lungs
In rejection to the violent rule of time’s greater gun.
Rise up, arm yourself, and raze the great domed temple
As the representative of Liberty and Justice Incorporated,
Life can be expressed as the better off and ill fated
For a moment in a day can be bought for ten cents
But love can’t get through when the walls are so dense.
So rise up to the acid rain, and speak out ‘gainst our shame!
Heroes can be forged by the bravest words,
But strength need not be behind them.
Should I speak against you’re breath,
And claim my words are godsend?
Should I throw the chains of youth?
Into the bowels of painful truth?
Fueling the factories that manufacture the game.
Life can be expressed not in a hundred words,
But by the word that has no definition.
And should I believe in premonition,
Who’s to claim that there’s no shame
In shrugging the weight of the questions?
Call, reach to the light;
the response to be heard in the dead of the night,
And if the day has any meaning or any way,
The path would be clearer than my line of sight.
If the fog should lift ‘pon the bridge
To make the path more clear
It’d be drowned by the sea in a fit of irrational fear.
But the nature of the word is meaningless as allowed
For our fear is as obscure as a the cloud
And you clap to pinpoint the location,
But your movement makes no sound.
And you scream to the wind nonetheless
And the wise men have deciphered the text
And our heroes have finally passed the test
And reason states the home of our guest.
“Is there meaning to the words I speak?”
I asked the raven up above.
“Only if you believe you’re words’ are not weak”
Rang a response reminiscent of love
“Awaken; to the joy and strife
Awaken; so that you may see
The ever-lasting love of life”
The raven cried to me.
“Is there meaning to the words I speak?”
I asked the raven up above.
“Only if you believe you’re words’ are not weak”
Rang a response reminiscent to love.
So began the descent
So decided life’s intent
for my decision truly affects my life
And the lives that surround me
“Awaken; to the joy and strife
Awaken; so that you may see”
The raven spoke again.
Who can feel? Who can think?
Who can find my mind in the sink?
Who can see? Who can be,
The dream I see in the telescope?
Survival screams and lays its eggs
Guarantees a future fortune
In the night she weeps upon the streets,
Denying life’s enforcement
A touch can sway the power of the ageless wall
The blind man can see the deaf hear the raven’s call.
If I draw a shadow in the penetration’s view
Will the gods sit around the table and watch everything I do?
If I were to trade my youth for the wisdom of age
Would I still taste the flavor of the sage?
And should I walk across the field
Writing the book to turn the page,
And should I take a measure of my yield
Will I awaken still locked in a cage?
The power of a weeping mind can’t equal a deaf soul
For the tears that fall to the ground are as noiseless as the sun
And should we cross the bridge to love will we pay the toll
Of lifeless dreams that mark the crosshairs of the gun?
The light of darkness rings louder than the bell
That calls the lifeless to the power of the well
And so the trade leaves balance achieves little nonetheless
And so decided is the potency of a test,
And now we take the weight of the meaning of the text
And pinpoint the location of our unearthly guest.
A seat at the theatre can’t guarantee you’re truth,
Just as running through the field can’t resurrect you’re youth.
A day in the life of someone you once knew
An understanding of another perception of what was you
Time can’t believe in what can’t be spoken
And love is as love does till its broken.
The stones of my home roll right down the hill
And the days I’m alone whittle slowly at my will
And in the sands on the shore
Lie relics of the holy war.
Time can take what it doesn’t need
But will always sow another set of seeds
And when it returns to see us bleed
It looks about and cries, “such a shame.”
But life can’t bear the blame
And death is not our name.
Pawns upon a chessboard, in the middle of the game
Move to offer the queen a better position.
What face can we take to express the creeping pain,
Of life, of love, of blood, of shame?
And as a testament to our quickly passing hour
We build with pride our tower,
Because we just can’t let us die
Not if we can’t try,
To make the illusion of time and intrusion
And the might of the muscle of our feeble wills
As we manufacture our hate at our ‘angelic mills’
From where we watch the farmer as he tills
The grain that makes our bread
Which feed the world of gun and lead.
A tale of the man who lost his head,
Dreaming for the dawn.
And so your heroes and saviors
Invite you to the song,
To cut down all the nay Sayers,
That claim our day’s are gone.
Power to the station; love to the nation
For life’s accepted the invitation
To attend the lover’s dance.
And now as reason collapses
It seems we have a chance.
Well the sun has risen and now is gone
But I still have a verse or two of the song,
Silently sung by the last breath in my lungs
In rejection to the violent rule of time’s greater gun.
Rise up, arm yourself, and raze the great domed temple
As the representative of Liberty and Justice Incorporated,
Life can be expressed as the better off and ill fated
For a moment in a day can be bought for ten cents
But love can’t get through when the walls are so dense.
So rise up to the acid rain, and speak out ‘gainst our shame!
Heroes can be forged by the bravest words,
But strength need not be behind them.
Should I speak against you’re breath,
And claim my words are godsend?
Should I throw the chains of youth?
Into the bowels of painful truth?
Fueling the factories that manufacture the game.
Life can be expressed not in a hundred words,
But by the word that has no definition.
And should I believe in premonition,
Who’s to claim that there’s no shame
In shrugging the weight of the questions?
Call, reach to the light;
the response to be heard in the dead of the night,
And if the day has any meaning or any way,
The path would be clearer than my line of sight.
If the fog should lift ‘pon the bridge
To make the path more clear
It’d be drowned by the sea in a fit of irrational fear.
But the nature of the word is meaningless as allowed
For our fear is as obscure as a the cloud
And you clap to pinpoint the location,
But your movement makes no sound.
And you scream to the wind nonetheless
And the wise men have deciphered the text
And our heroes have finally passed the test
And reason states the home of our guest.
“Is there meaning to the words I speak?”
I asked the raven up above.
“Only if you believe you’re words’ are not weak”
Rang a response reminiscent of love
“Awaken; to the joy and strife
Awaken; so that you may see
The ever-lasting love of life”
The raven cried to me.
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