dreams of greatness


I wonder on the dreams of the great,
On the fate of those blessed from the flash
Of divine genius.

I wonder on Dali;
Waking up from the haunt of melting clocks,
Flashing action of pain to canvas.
Before realities rhythm
Blunts the sparks of subconscious arousal.

I wonder on Stevenson and Shelley;
Whose fear of creation and evil in there Victorian days
Spawned latent monsters in there Victorian nights.
Gifting grievous mirrors of fright,
To supressed readers faced with their grisly baseness.

I wonder on Einstein;
Whose sledding follies of youth,
Saw a childlike wonder in the blazing stars.
Triggering ripened sparks of theoretical light
Poetically defined by the refines of its heady speed.

I wonder on McCartney;
Whose gentle winks were soothed
By a lovesick melody.
Framing his open eyes with the rolling jangles
Of heartbreaks of Yesterday.

I wonder on the polymaths;
Descartes, Browne and Da vinci.
Could they have survived the wonderland of slumber?
The waking hours too few to trap,
The inspired hints of sacramental essence.

Finally I wonder on me,
Who last night dreamt of the dentist.
What will I tell the world of my greatness?

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