D. B. DEVILLIERS

Poetry

Tag: dreams

There’s Some Kinda Dream To Herald The Trailing Edge Of The Year Here, And There’s Beauty Somewhere Else

there are things I want
there are things I need
there are things that overlap
there are things I can’t do
there are things I can
there are things that overlap

I’m standing at the edge of something
there were conversations I thought I
would remember
there were dreams I had
here’s one:
I’m standing at the edge of something or
someone or somewhere
the air is electric with anticipation
I walk but I do not move, rather
the ground moves
there is a great white light, a great heat
then the sound and fury and my
biology becomes chemistry and my
chemistry becomes physics
that’s how carbon behaves in the presence of
vast quantities of energy it’s all
just math in the end, rules things follow
particles under pressure and heat
and I wake up
and it’s dark outside still
I take a piss and forget the dream
which will recur.

there is so much beauty in the world
it is astonishing and overwhelming to behold
there is so much worth staying alive for
I’m learning to really believe it
really believe it
the sharp earnest edge of my hope:
there is love in the world and it sounds like
text me when you get home
it sounds like merry christmas happy new
year
there is love in the world and it sounds like
I love you
it sounds like everything
and it doesn’t have to be so fucking awful
anymore
it doesn’t have to be like that

let me believe it christ please let me
believe in it let me please I want to
believe that I can do this thing and I
don’t have to go I don’t want to go please don’t
make me make myself go please
please
I am going to stay
I am going to stay

that’s the dream.

Short Dream from Some Nights Ago, Devoid of Merit and Intrigue, and One Which Therefore Will Almost Certainly Fade Fast From My Memory And Yours

Swing the room around
and again
I don’t remember the beginning
I don’t remember context, purpose
like pondering in a dream how you got where you are
it’s absurd

but let remain the dream, I say
when I wake up tomorrow
let it live a little
longer—
lucid, linger. Loose
its light enough
to cast away
the stone
pitch-dark
funerary gown

draped upon a false and hollow world
pallid, wound around with
razor-wire follies and
arterial fountains draining into midday black.
Drive it out.
Let live to try and light this life
though it will fail
it doesn’t matter.

I don’t want to remember.
Never did.