(The Reality of a Dream)
Helplessly I slept and dreamed
Defenceless in my nudity
Without artifice or pretence
To camouflage my timidity
Frozen in an actor’s mask
Forced to play reality’s role.
Incapable of self-deception
In the scenario of my play
Involving human weakness
Desolation and hopelessness
All combined unwillingly
In an imminent personal drama.
Realising a similar theme
Was materialising once again
Aware there was no refuge
Outside the conscious mind
Beginning at the end of something
Apart and barely participating.
The protagonist in the tragedy
Projected into every scene
Leaving token friends as strangers
Setting off alone somewhere
As surreal sequences juxtaposed
Distorted by impossible visions.
Feeling vulnerable and disaffected
Uncertain of my future
Wondering where to go
Recollecting a cliff-top hideaway
A refuge that never existed
But was once so real to me.
Looking for a railway station
Hopefully somewhere nearby
But beyond a lake instead
Which I vainly attempted to navigate
Until it merged into a maze of streets
Where eventually I lost my bearings.
Somehow miraculously it was there
But was unable to afford the fare . . .
Boarding ticketless nevertheless
Forlornly realising it was not my train
And where was I going anyhow?
I suppose it was neither here nor there.
(Reflections)
The uniqueness of the human mind
Genetically programmed
Hereditarily blueprinted
Codified and consigned
From the contrasts of Yin and Yang
To the lottery of human diversity.
Indoctination persuades the mind
To accept without question
Fanciful absurdities
Zealously expressed
Dogmatically expounded
And repeated ad nauseam.
Politicians send you off to war
Then patriotically shed crocodile tears
When you dutifully die
And hypocritically misrepresent
Their opportunistic representations
As humble servants of the people.
Supposed to govern on our behalf
They act for vested interests instead
Pretending it’s in the national interest
Using expediency and speciousness
With parliamentary privilege
To cynically betray the electorate.
The mind accumulates toxic wastes
To be discarded along with prejudices
manipulators and the tyranny of despots
Nostalgically rediscovering relics
Recreated and polished retrospectively
Mulch and fertiliser for the soul . . .
Fed religiously by fanciful dreams
Reverently masticated and swallowed
To be digested and consigned
As revelations and aspirations
Combined with a cast of characters
Real or imagined waiting in the wings.
Intimate friends and valued memories
Drawn from treasured archival annals
Thoughtful wonders of sight and sound
So entrancing to see and hear
Refreshingly rejuvinating all the senses
At the gala opening of the mind.
our dreams can teach us so much!
i wish I could interpret mine. Psychoanalysis in the time of Jung and Freud was the rage, but no longer. I wonder why!