Sleep-Dreaming Poem by Paul Butters

Again I slouch on my couch.
Awake.
Conscious that I am me,
Composing this piece.
I have my memories
And see my lounge -
My Man Cave
With gardens outside.

But
As I've said before
When I fall asleep
Weird things happen.
In my dreams
Amazing stories unfold
As though I'm making films
Or countless TV clips.
Sometimes it's like I'm on my computer
Again -
Living what I read
Or taking part
In streams of videos.

So many shocks!
Surprises.
With people now living or dead
In the real world.

So once more I have to ask
Who is feeding me these scenes?
Presenting me with crowds
Of people
Known and unknown.

Is it my Id, Subconscious, Unconscious…
What?
Some other person
Within myself?
Putting aside the Spiritual source,
Who is this Other Me
Who can't be me
Because I am Me.

The Conscious Me is lost
In some Unconscious Realm,
Weirder that Twilight Zone
Every time
I dream.

We take these things for granted
Of course
Putting to the back of our minds
That we have no idea
About that fundamental question:
What is Reality?

© PB 20\9\2020.