Truth May The Dream Encumber
by
Mary -BrytEyz- Ball
(Age: 39)
copyright 07-20-2004
Age Rating: 10 to 127
What a crazy dream I had last night
With all sort of sane and simple scenes
Where everything appeared to be right
And peaceful silence muffled my screams
Paradise born in an illusion
Broke away from what really exists
A favored and welcome delusion
was found among insanity's mist
A welcome end as night obliterates the day
Bleed my mental anguish with slumber
Let the moon chase my madness away
And truth may this dream encumber
Come if you wish, and share the vision
My madness momentarily masked
Elude reality's derision
Delightful deception in which I basked
Just don't ask why, or where, or how come
Don't expect any explanation
You may not like what you find my son
And may discover only frustration
A welcome death to a torturous day
End my mental anguish with slumber
Let the moon chase my madness away
And truth may this dream encumber
When you sift your fingers through my mind
The truth is bound to be revealed
Oh! What terrible things you'll find
I try so hard to keep concealed
I wish for you the kind of happiness
That I can never seem to find
And hope you never live the weariness
That constantly taints and plagues my mind
A brief sojournment as night obliterates the day
Ignoring mental anguish with slumber
Let the moon chase my madness away
And truth may this dream encumber
*** NOTE ***
This was inspired by Walter Jone's poem GRIP ON LIFE found at http://www.Prose-n-Poetry.com/display_work/13242
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I am honored that a poem I wrote could inspire a write of this quality. I turn my eyes to your comments, very few, can be so secure in their work to expalin not only the feel, but the heart, so much trust you place in the reader, I not only applaud, but loudly. Best day you are able to find, sleep of the best kind.. Walt
Thanks again everyone. I was just thinking that sometimes I read a poem many times because I love it, sometimes because it has just that much to absorb, or ... sometimes because I just don't get it. If any of you are having to re-read it because you just don't get it... I'd like to offer some sort of insight into the poem.
It was inspired by Walter Jone's poem GRIP ON LIFE found at http://www.Prose-n-Poetry.com/display_work/13242. HIS poem was about a soldier and the hell that's forever theirs inside their mind (or at least that's PARTLY what his poem was about). There was a line in his that really woke my muse and she wouldn't let me eat, sleep, or work until I had gotten it out of my system.
Since I am not a soldier (or a fighter of ANY kind)... I thought to myself, "What would someone find if they combed through MY mind?" I realized that people may not like what they see when learning about the real me. I went through a great deal on the streets of Chicago that I'll never forget. Minds are funny that way, forgetting where your keys are but always reminding you of nightmares that you've lived through.
So when some people have to go to sleep to have a nightmare, mine decide to play in my mind when I'm awake in the form of memories. It's only when I'm sleeping that I can escape from the terrible reality of life and be truly at peace, be innocent, be that little girl I'd like to believe I still am somewhere down deep inside.
I say "my son" in the poem not because I'm really speaking to my biological son, but because some people THINK they know me when in reality, they are babes when it comes to diving into the depths of who I am. I am the one and only expert. I am the ancient one who truly knows. I say, "my son" as if I'm the professor and they... the student.
Now, I've heard that some don't get (or like) the thought of bloody scenes (Bleed my mental anguish with slumber) and that's not really what I was thinking (not a bloody sight, a messy mental life), but instead was referring to bloodletting that they used to do back in the day. They used to make an incision to let out blood with the belief that it would let out whatever was making one sick. In this sense, making an incision in my consciousness, letting out the mental anguish and with what knife? With slumber. Of course, it's only a hopeful fix and doesn't really fix anything... much like the ancient art of bloodletting.
And truth may this dream encumber... this is more a prayer before bedtime. MAY connotates that I'm asking for something. I'm asking that the dream be allowed to encumber the true madness that exists, be allowed to mask my madness, be allowed to let me rest peacefully if only for the night. (Death to the life I know in the daytime). It's repeated as if to ask... Please?
This is a very complex poem. I had to read it several times, and still am not quite sure I grasp it. I felt as though I was slipping in and out of consciousness as I read the poem. Reminds me of something I wrote some time ago...I'll have to tray and dig it up now. Anyways, nice poem, great read...really makes you think.
Hi Mary,
There are quite a lot of undercurrents in this piece, you have to read it several times to pick up on all the subtleties. Well written, each stanza moves easily. I like the way you miror the 3rd., 6th., and 9th, stanzas....with just a few word changes. The last stanza gives the piece a very strong finish. Wonderful job!
~*~Joan~*~
Good night!!!! THAT was awesome! I kinda think I need to take my meds at this point...but that was very good. It pin points how many people feel but just cant describe it. I'm one of them. Though I know I have issues girl!!!!
*_* Ouh, this is so beautiful! It's kinda has a 'light at the end of a tunnel' kinda feeling. I love the line "Let the moon chase my madness away". Well, this is obviously a 5 & I'm off to read more of yr stuffs! ^-^
Oh Thank yoU! *Teary Eyes* You don't know how MUCH your comments mean to me. Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU! (And from people that I admire so much... well... I'm just so grateful!)
Craft and message laid to greatness, image and place presented in a way that trapped me in your world, and no mater how hard I tried, I could not escape. Best tribute I can give, I could have wrote this, but not half as well, I would buy...
Walt
Bravo, Mary! What dreams we dreamers seek, for sanity presents itself in the form of Maiden Slumber's dainty touch.
My favorite line in this entire thing had to be "And peaceful silence muffled my screams." Very very good use of words, and a paradox that sends chills.
Welcome !
