On the Ward #2


This whole creation is essentially subjective, and the dream is the theater where the dreamer is at once scene, actor, prompter, stage manager, author, audience, and critic.

— Carl Gustav Jung, General Aspects of Dream Psychology (1928)







& the Mad Poet cried:


I’m the gift and the giver

of painful remorse!

I’m the reek of unholy!

I’m the rider’s pale horse!


Yet I have known Love!

O traitorous Love!

Yet I’ve known the Truth! 

O treacherous Truth!


Sing a prayer!

Invoke! what was lost 

& forbidden,

hexed, blasted, accursed,

confounded & hidden!


Love, o Love! 

O traitorous Love! 

Truth, o Truth!

O treacherous Truth!


(cut to/ two Ukrainian orderlies slowly closing in

with assorted atypical neuroleptics)










Suicide – Dream Baby Dream (1980)



Peter Bies © 2011



On the Ward

It has been said of dreams that they are a “controlled psychosis”, or, put another way, a psychosis is a dream breaking through during waking hours. 

— Philip. K. Dick







And the Mad Poet cried: 


I’m reliving a nightmare –

the blackness, the void!

The raging machines

& the grey humanoids!


I see liars, see cowards –

they’re gauging the screw! 

I see a black cauldron

& the sorcerer’s brew!


I’m wading in shards – 

now I’m drinking the swill!

Ribald song & dance

round the moonshine still! 


Hail Cucumber Man! 

& his limp long cucumber!

Hail The Masked Grey Surgeon!

still haunting my slumber!


(here come Cucumber ManThe Masked Grey Surgeon

in his blood-stained rubber apron –

slowly closing in with their cucumbers & pliers…)





(to be continued)








Walter/Wendy Carlos – Title Music from A Clockwork Orange (1971),

based on “Music for the Funeral of Queen Mary”

by Henry Purcell (1659-1695)  



Peter Bies © 2011




The Last Words of Dutch Schultz – 2nd Take


“Include utter banalities.”

— Stanley Kubrick 








so is it Grandpa 

who cares about Mama? 

he owe you this?  

no he owe you nothing!

& I wished she knew a 

fast reverse & quick fit 

fast book police/






o Mama! Mama! 

it doesn’t stop! –

how do you know 

you’re through?

done jumpin’ hobo 

didn’t I, John?

thank God! 

you got no cocoa, Henry!

& million sure 

your pocket please/

have you done that? 

been done the night?



still have full moves? 

what I think & furious?

speak that time phrase: 

please help me not make it:

  the me thing











The Honeymoon Killers – Decollage (1982)



Peter Bies © 2011




Dream Report #3

“Everybody abstracts a different reality. When you come through a room, you abstract the reality you’re prepared to abstract. You pick up the signals that interest you. Your brain records them and organizes them.”

— Robert Anton Wilson








cut to/

I’m strutting across Grand Central Station.

Everybody shows respect.


I’m hovering over vast alien architecture.

Strange futuristic factories. Huge!

There, I’m reunited with my comrades.

We meet a couple of French hookers.

There’s Michelle. She’s a plain one.

She’s yelling at me. “I don’t want you!”

There’s Augustine, a beauty.

 “You nevair make ze compliments!”, she complains.

“But isn’t that obvious?”, I reply.

cut to/

I’m on the bus to Hoboken Terminal.

There’s going to be breakfast for everybody.

The bully boy shows up again.

Once more he’s threatening to make the call.

I don’t care.

I’ve got a lot of friends here.

I’m discussing literature with Doctor Ralph.

He’s full of praise for the Guinness Book of Records.

Eventually the Russian girl arrives with a blister pack of Prozac.

I wake up.

I remember.

I’m awake now.












The Sisters of Mercy – This Corrosion (1987) 



Peter Bies © 2011


Dream Report #2



“Persona: That which in reality you are not but which yourself as well as others think you are… in dreams it could appear as a scarecrow, a tramp or an empty field.”

— Carl Gustav Jung 








cut to/

NY in the forties, b/w.

There’s this backyard bully.

He’s bullying me now.

Threatening to “make a call” .

Then there’s Nick Nolte impersonating Leslie Nielsen.

Leslie Nielson disguised as a Bowery bum.

He’s wearing a tattered zoot suit.

Now I am yelling, It’s Leslie Nielsen! 

But nobody recognises him because this is the forties.

So Leslie Nielson takes a crap. 

Pink poo.

I cry out, 



Into his bloated plastic bladder!

No, it’s RAVSH! or RAUSH! 

Louder & louder!

I’m screaming!

Screaming at the top of my lungs:




Relief. Elation. 

cut to/


I’m hovering over Battery Park & Governor’s Island.

Big steam liners breathing.






(to be continued)







Prog legend Van der Graaf Generator – Theme One (1971)



Peter Bies © 2011