Nebuchadnezzar

Ah, so you want to dream better!

I’m your man, I’m the one to ask,

for dreaming is all about asking

the right questions without

knowing that one oneself

questions!

 

The point of the exercise,

excuse me, sir, is stop

that thinking, which you,

learned sir! do so much

of. Instead you must work

to forget and work to

let those voices which

regale and shock and

grasp at you in the

Burnt-Orange hour,

and in the light-green hour

when the sun sails

behind some old hill

and your eyes roll back

and perhaps you’re

ready to sleep — those

voices you must work

to make silent for

there is no virtue in

chattering subconscious

parliaments — No,

in order to dream you

must dull the federation

of thoughts and you must

increase the empire of feeling.

 

So now we dive into

the sea of dreaming

(Ah, but you, learned

man of letters! You know this!)

You know that dreams are

one with the sea and

one with the moon —

yes, yes, they glitter

and shall we say, titter

about the eyes

and they come around again

like the twinkles

of moonlight

in the bluish ocean,

for sleep is earnest a

thing made blue.

 

Sweet Dreams for Mary!

 

The Star of the Sea,

yes, I have dreamt of

her — for you know, sir,

I have never forgotten

a dream, and I will

always remember my dreams

I will always remember —

as I never forget a face

I have given sleepy life to —

Yes, I saw the Serenissima Mary

before her assumption

before her earthly woes did end

before her regal throne,

I saw her asleep

dreaming, she was,

dreaming that she was

reunited with her baby Christ,

for we remember him through painting

but she remembered him being

heaved out,

and shattering her hips

and she remembered paying

for Eve’s wrongdoings

for this hallowed, haloed child.

 

Bah, well, I don’t go in for God

and mangers. I am a dreamer, sir,

and Christ leaves no room

for those liminal dream-truths

I hold so dear,

and so I will keep on dreaming

and ignore any sign he sends me,

for there’s greater joy in

beauty with no significance

than significance with all the beauty of the ocean.

 

Poem by Louis Davidson. Illustration by Alice Yang.