Weaving a Tale Into Dreams

Demonoid walked down to the river bank

Cutting across, his feet on air

He stole up on a protest

Surprised to see, they wheeled

“Of what are thoust making all this racket,” he inquired

Angry to be so rudely interrupted, the protest replied:

“We protest the suppression of the ethereality,

The ideas of the people,

The war against that which makes them whole”

“And what is making this war

And how may I be of assistance?”

The demonoid replied

“The war is of imperialism and capital,

Religion and morality,

Of the institutions and the entertainment,” Said they

“As to assistance,

What power do you have,

Most importuning demonoid?” they went on

He said, “I can weave stories of unwavering poignancy

Tales that become part of realities’ fabric

I have a switch to transport

Through walls unseen,

I can break the minds of the powerful,

Though the outcomes are uncertain

I can transmit my thoughts

Into the dreams of many

And I can make from the Earth

Magical charms”

Leaves fell

The waters ever onrushing

In the sky a hawk

Keeping its eye on things

On the count of four

A band struck up

And the placards waved

In the wind

On the count of 10

The Protest answered back:

“We think we have the most use

For the tales

And for the dream transmission

The people must be reawoken!

They sleep

And in their sleep

The die inside

We must make the people

If we can

Radiantly alive!

Can you do that

O, perhaps useful

importuning Demonoid?”

Demonoid danced a merry little jig

And replying said:

“Let us see what we can come up with!”

Weaving his many colored tale,

He wove the tale of

Electronic Dance Music festivals

Into it he wove of the people

Tearing up the streets

For gardens

He wove of the protest movement

Ousting the manipulators


The tale began to take root

He wove of all faiths

Living in peace

He wove of the anticonsumerist movement

He wove of the politics of anarchy

The councils

The ways of maintaining life

He wove of the rainforests regrowing

And he wove of the ice caps reforming

He wove of cancer and AIDS and herpes cured

He wove of the exposure of the malicious conspiracies

And their subsequent end

He wove of the end of money

He wove all this and more

And he saw that it was good

As the thought of it

Began to take root

In the peoples’ minds

The protest looked on

And also saw that it was good

Looking at Demonoid

They said:

“But why ever

Didst thou not

Do this sooner?”

And Demonoid spake thus:

“Because no one asked me;

I am at play in this world mainly,

Wandering and wondering

At the humans.

They are ever contentious

And the tale only has the power

To change minds”

As the powerful quaked at the thought of it

And the others rejoiced at their new fantasies

The Protest remarked:

“Well, ever you are not the importuner, sweet Demonoid

The dreams of the people are alive again

And we must now move to keep it that way”

And they did

And Demonoid went on about his business

Or play, as the case may be

2 thoughts on “Weaving a Tale Into Dreams

  1. Read the Demonoid when first written and find it ever better. We all are rightly terrified of change so great, no matter whether it is plausible, possible or even only fantasially implementable. We err on the side of love & sex when we should learn that it is art — art by ALL — that will at last develop space station Earth. Love & sex become some goofy type of belonging — just another chattel — when the depiction/expression/representation is sheerly a GIFT to our home and all WELL beyond/above/before concern of its chatteldom. The kingdom is you. Olson named his book A Nation Of Nothing But Poetry. He did not mean his own. The kingdom is you. Treat it gently.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I believe that we all have the potential to serve as different sorts of chaos butterflies. The Nation, however, now faces the hurricane of millions, not a lone butterfly. By the way, I think at least seven of the Demonoid, we all the small ones, et al, poems are in the final cut of the Synaptic Syntactic ebook; not this one though. Perhaps a future volume.


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