My Ineffable, In Search of Dreams

The molten glass apple seeped along

The darkening of dreams that wander stoned

Begging the everlasting stars to be reformed

’Las the dreams are empty in the middle of the night

And the ticks of time kept falling to the floor

Of a clockwork stairwell

Towards the bellowing heights

Where those vivid dreams that live

For the godless sky

Had closed their doors preemptively

With a deadbolt that should warn

The nocturne’s seeker

To never shy in thy intrusive meanderings

Rather step with tact

On the floor of the cathedral

To the banal rhythm of a mocking bird’s prayer

That sung the shells of all his brethren

Whilst drenched in their blood

Whispering of an ocean somewhere in the depths of love

A mountainous submerged contention

Staring at the walls composed thy scenery

For argumentative sake’

A mere conceptual imposition

And they the dreamers rose to catch the moment

In the dust of their empty hands

Kneeling under the weight of their faith

And reaching desperate for the sanctuary of reason

To wash like a river

The desert sands to whitened chalk

I must have been dreaming

As I marched along to the pace of orange elephants

Setting to flame the steeple of rationality

And the bellowed effect

Of the bells that burned their somber chime

Caught the hedgerows of the garden

Contrived of the language

That sought to undermine its own creation

The objective betrayal of the human creator

By the hands of a formulaic essence

Could no longer hold to the dogma of its mathematic

But wandered into irrationality

Climbing the stairwell to the underground

And listening to the stares of ghosts that dwelled

In the parched shatter of a church of industry

A perch for the vultures to land

And hunt the raw fibers

Of the black night below

Where the dreams were empty glasses

In the shimmers of the stars

And the sacrament it flowed

In the veins of shards

Which lay to covering the motive

Having lost the shine of a reason to dream

Which lay broken

Waiting on the sun to warm the dark

And bear a light wave of reformation


Jason Greendyk, www.jasongreendyk.com