City Of Bones by Deborah Emmanuel feat. Mantravine

FULL POEM TEXT BELOW

This poem was conceived in a moment of discontent. Within my struggle against Babylon. I decided that the only way to deal with my feelings was to make a poetic magic spell. Thanks for watching.

Music by Mantravine. Gratitude to Nir Cang for the videography and Shivram Gopinath for arranging the gig at The Esplanade.

- CITY OF BONES -

Come back, come back to me,
come back, come back to me.
Come back, come back to me,
come back, come back to me.

I was there when the dreams fell,
one by one like fat raindrops,
heavy bodies collapsing on the earth,
frothy eyelashes fluttering to a stop,
you could hardly hear a sound
except the thud thud thud of the dying.

The shamans say it was an accident,
we didn’t mean to kill the dreams,
they died from too much reality,
see, we were counting coins when
signs were shifting in the clouds
we looked away
when the oceans started boiling,
we covered our ears
when the birds began singing

Come back, come back to me,
come back, come back to me.
Come back, come back to me,
come back, come back to me.

Then there were carcasses everywhere.
Dead dream in a field with his heart to the sky,
dead dream on a hill, glow gone from her eyes.

Then there were skeletons everywhere,
draped in the lace of sleep,
we made a bone wasteland,
a forgotten fantasy for logic to feast on.

Vultures descended from still trees;
the coin-counters with calculations,
the merchants with twitchy fingers,
the chiefs with gasping gullets
said now we build this city of bone.

They collected the clavicles and craniums,
they gathered all the sternums and ribs,
brought in baskets like gifts
to a great grinding machine,
for a dreamless concrete place.

This bone city rattles,
this bone city hums,
this bone city asks

Come back, come back to me,
come back, come back to me.
Come back, come back to me,
come back, come back to me.

Oh my dreams, I call you back into my skin,
oh my visions, I call return to me within.

Come back, come back to me,
come back, come back to me.
Come back, come back to me,
come back, come back to me.

Vultures will tell you it is natural not to dream,
will say castles are built with control.
Vultures will tell you to measure each step
will have you forget to see with your eyes closed.

This bone city with magic machines,
this bone city with ticking hands, polished floors.
This bone city calls back the flesh of life,
reaches across the space between breaths.

I am calling now, a voice from the rainbow,
bring back the meat on these bones,
drum this heart into pulsing,
clothe these sockets with seeing.

If you forgot your dreams, you will remember,
if you cannot see,
your visions will be brighter than stars,
this city will not continue sleeping in darkness,
it will rise, lit with a glow of ageless wisdom,
it will sing

Come back, come back to me,
come back, come back to me.
Come back, come back to me,
come back, come back to me.

This city will dream again.