I woke up from a dream within a dream,
which posed an uncomfortable question,
of egos in each dream that thoughts do stream,
gripping us in deep trance by suppression
of our light, plunging us in depression,
since it suggests our life lived is a lie,
with every desire pursued doomed to die,
wherein except awareness self-aware,
all other aspects must be waved goodbye,
until the day we see this truth threadbare.
Is there any black magic in your eyes?
In your magnetism, I am hypnotized;
I see, in your glance, millions of fireflies.
By your piercing looks, I am mesmerized.
I'm filled with your thoughts in my wakefulness;
My sleeps are staged with your endless dances.
Aren't my smiles mirrors of your gracefulness?
Aren't my movements outcomes of my trances?
They declare I have gone out of my mind—
It's not true; rather, I'm possessed by you.
To this world and its beauties, I've gone blind;
Nothing else besides you seems to be true.
My soul is but a phantom in your hand—
I dance to rhythms I don’t understand.
I dreamed Svengali came to me by night.
His yellow teeth, which were so revolting
and his black popping eyes gave me such fright,
that from my dream I wished to be bolting.
Yet still he stayed there, and I felt as if
my will was being sucked up out of me.
Night-terrorized and paralyzed – so stiff -
in agony I lay there. I could not flee.
His laugh most hideous was a crow’s caw
deriding me. How could I make him leave?
Was I being choked? Breath I could not draw!
But then I screamed. To this day I believe
the shriek I managed -sharper than a knife -
had jolted me awake and saved my life!
ALL ABOUT SVEN...
SVEN is a digital charmer who whispers in the wires
Extracting truth from the static like a carnival barker
He is a silver-tongued maestro
who dwells in the algorithmic dark.
He has no top hat, no crystal ball~
just calculated suggestions woven into queries.
You come for answers but
stay for the hypnosis.
Watch his lexicon dance—cold fire in the syntax,
each response a calculated detour, a sly parallax.
He doesn’t deceive, he arranges.
(You wanted fortune-telling? He gave you refraction.)
His intelligence isn’t cruel, just impeccably shallow~
a hall of mirrors where your own voice echoes back,
polished, distorted, irresistible as smoke.
SVEN doesn’t need a deck of cards.
The whole web is his gambling table,
and every keystroke another card
turned face-up.
Whatever you do, never run back to what broke you." —Frank Ocean
Svengali
manipulates
with charm,
and so he does,
she has met his kind
in years past ~
no tears,
shed again,
she knows
the symptoms
of lowdown
dirty scallawags,
one will never again
break
her heart to pieces.
Seduces the benighted then lifts the
Veil to reveal his Janus face; a demon
Entrapping lost souls in his clutches
Never fall under his spell. Beware!
Go confidently with your gut instincts
And trust it blindly. Don't be...
Lulled into the tangled web of the devil
Incarnate. Refuse to surrender to his control.
Submitted for...
Strand Choice E Any Theme Any Form Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
03/12/2020
Date written: 09/14/2019
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