Deep within the labyrinthine recesses of my mind
Lies my Id.
Or Subconscious
Or whatever you will.
So when I sleep and dream
My Id presents me with scenes
Full of seemingly incredible detail:
Countless objects set before me
In a wonderfully vivid landscape.
How on Earth does my Id store and display
All these amazing things?
Or is it conning me somehow?
For my Id loves to taunt and tease me.
With dreams of finding myself undressed
In public.
Stressful nightmares of being given impossible mental
And practical challenges to complete.
Of being lost and unable to find my way
Home.
Endless journeys by train and bus
Travelling the country in my quest
To get back in the bosom
Of my loving family.
Bee swarms and nasty infestations of bugs.
The Forbidden Planet had its “Monsters of the Id”
And on rare occasions I have woken to continued dreams
Of snakes and people who shouldn’t be there.
And that Giant Eye!
God forbid my sleeping dreams should invade reality,
In the Twilight Zone.
But on the plus side, my dreams can be filled
With seemingly original music
And pleasantries I’d better leave
To your imagination.
Wink, wink.
Paul Butters
© PB 29\1\2024.