A Dream Within a Dream

I first read this is high school and fell in love with it. It was shortly after the break-up with my first boyfriend and the poem seemed to capture my feelings.

All these years later, and after much study of life, the universe and everything, I do think that all we see or seem is but a dream within a dream.


A Dream
Within A Dream
by Edgar Allan Poe

Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow—
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand-
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep— while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?

datura datura
56-60, F
52 Responses Oct 20, 2008

Oh, you mean Gordon Ramsey??

You know, Pricey, I bet Emeril is a tortured soul ! I know that guy from Hell's kitchen is!

All this talk of chickens and eggs is making me hungry! Maybe my tortured, creative side could whip up an omlette...

Yes , ofcourse I do ..

Another good Poe poem that I think clearly shows he believed the demons lead him to his creativity.<br />
The chicken was first. No, wait, I mean the egg was first....you know what I mean....

From childhood's hour I have not been<br />
As others were; I have not seen<br />
As others saw; I could not bring<br />
My passions from a common spring.<br />
From the same source I have not taken<br />
My sorrow; I could not awaken<br />
My heart to joy at the same tone;<br />
And all I loved, I loved alone.<br />
Then- in my childhood, in the dawn<br />
Of a most stormy life- was drawn<br />
From every depth of good and ill<br />
The mystery which binds me still:<br />
From the torrent, or the fountain,<br />
From the red cliff of the mountain,<br />
From the sun that round me rolled<br />
In its autumn tint of gold,<br />
From the lightning in the sky<br />
As it passed me flying by,<br />
From the thunder and the storm,<br />
And the cloud that took the form<br />
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)<br />
Of a demon in my view.

that's why I'm not changing. I wouldn't want to be daturahussein forever!

cluck, cluck, cluck

I do support him but knowing my computer skills I will be stuck with the name change forever so I best stay as I am ..

If you support Obama you could!<br />
I support him, but I'm not changing my name!

Whats with all this hussein stuff?<br />
<br />
Should I be tasminhussein?

Very good one, FhusseinT! I like it! so would Poe, I think!

Thats just what I mean ..re chicken and egg!!!

With Apologies to Edgar Allen Poe<br />
unknown author<br />
<br />
Once upon a midnight dreary, fingers cramped and vision bleary,<br />
System manuals piled high and wasted paper on the floor.<br />
Longing for the warmth of bed sheets, still I sat there doing spreadsheets.<br />
Having reached the bottom line, I took a floppy from the drawer.<br />
Typing with a steady hand, I then invoked the SAVE command,<br />
But instead got a reprimand. It read “Abort, Retry, Ignore?”<br />
<br />
Was this some occult illusion? Some maniacal intrusion?<br />
These were choices Solomon himself had never faced before.<br />
Carefully, I weighed the options. These three seemed to be the top ones.<br />
Clearly, now I must adopt one. “Abort, Retry, Ignore?”<br />
<br />
With my fingers pale and trembling, slowly toward the keyboard bending,<br />
Longing for a happy ending, hoping all would be restored.<br />
Praying for some guarantee, finally I pressed a key –<br />
But on the screen, what did I see? “Abort, Retry, Ignore?”<br />
<br />
I tried to catch the chips off-guard — I pressed again but twice as hard.<br />
Luck was not in the cards. I saw what I had seen before.<br />
Now I typed in desperation, trying random combinations.<br />
Still there came the incantation: “Abort, Retry, Ignore?”<br />
<br />
There I sat, distraught, exhausted. By my own machine accosted.<br />
Getting up, I turned away and paced across the office floor.<br />
And then I saw an awful sight, a bold and blinding flash of light.<br />
A lightning bolt had cut the night and shook me to my core.<br />
I saw the screen collapse and die. “No! No! My database!,” I cried.<br />
I thought I heard a voice reply, “You’ll see your data Nevermore!”<br />
<br />
To this day I do not know the place to which lost data goes.<br />
I bet it goes to Heaven where the angels have it stored.<br />
But as for productivity, well I fear, it goes straight to Hell.<br />
And that’s the tale I have to tell, “Abort, Retry, Ignore?”

I was thinking about Beethoven, poor man. He couldn't help but produce genius in his music. But his life was such a mess. Poe was much the same.

hmm .. chicken and egg ..<BR><BR>If you are troubled then you may think more deeply and art is very therapeutic<br />
<br />
Enjoyed the poem .. thank you

I do think there is a link between creativity, using the right side of the brain more than most people, and troubled souls.

Maybe that's what inspires them to be so creative. I have found deep emotion can inspire me to write things I normally couldn't. I suppose they experience that on an almost permanent basis.

There does seem to be some truth to that, whether it be in literature, art, classical music, or even rock music. the geniuses seem to be burdened with demons of one kind or another.

I was having this conversation with somebody yesterday. All the greats seem to have that troubled soul...

I love his short stories also, Pricey. He certainly was a creative, intense, and troubled man.

Oh man I love that guy. One of my favourite books is a collection of his stories but I have to confess I love this poem too!