The Reality Of Dreams Poem by Barry Van Allen

Vague and distant memories,
sometimes haunt me in my sleep,
what should have been and never was,
what was and never should have been,
are thoughts that keep my soul awake,
and are the inspiration that it takes,
to move me forward in my life.

The ups and downs of daily life,
the to and fro, the fourth and back,
the pluses and the minuses,
the white noise and the blackness,
may lead to goals achieved,
yet not believed to hold the answers.

The view you see when done,
may prove the climb was somehow worth it,
not ever giving up on the one shot that you truly had,
to understand the purpose,
but the meaning may not mean that much,
when you are standing at the apex,
wondering what's coming next,
inside some strange and twisted dream.

When morning comes, it's mostly gone,
a fragment here, a snippet there,
as if a tattered bit of snow,
the vision slowly dissappeared,
since waking up a while ago,
so far away and yet so near,
the mind will only softly, dimly show,
the dream that just flew past.

Shadows of the night have gone,
surrealism hanging on,
reluctance to wake up to find,
that it's the same thing that was there before,
you knew it then, you know it now,
if your heart is full, you're never poor,
vague memories are always stored,
in the warehouse you've become.

Simple concepts youth won't grasp,
like which way to wear a baseball cap,
advice though nice, is seldom heard,
loud music and most work deferred,
I wish I had some better news,
... those people are the future.

Money gone and angry bosses,
constant trouble with the house,
the car won't start, the lawnmower's dead,
and constant nagging by the spouse.

Two wars at once, no solvent banks,
the price of oil on the rise,
bail-outs with little thanks,
... in short, a warming world of lies.

Experience is what is needed,
exuberance is needed too,
they hardly ever come together,
at the right time, in the right place,
and almost never for the proper reasons.

The vague and distant memories,
come sweeping through your sleep,
the pictures that the mind projects,
are like movies, only deeper,
we don't always understand the meaning,
and we reach to hear what's being said,
like that ground hog, once we look around,
we want to climb back into bed.