A dream is a dream, right? Or is it? Is there more to a dream than meets the eye? Enjoy my poem The Psychoanalysis of a Dream from The Scream poetry collection by Danny Ballan.

Audio Podcast

The Psychoanalysis of A Dream

There have always been those dreams of wishes of dreams that could have been mine. I could have been this; I could have been that. I am so suited to be in those shoes. I am so well prepared to wear that suit. I could dance so well to this. I could speak so well about that. I could do it all. I could be all that. I am the one who deserves it the most, or am I?

The Psychoanalysis of a Dream
That I passed by
is already
almost done,
and the ten thousand dreams
which wave their hands to the sun
have come,
and already, almost, gone—
the memories and the too many
melancholy melodies
echo in my future past,
like a day I could not enjoy more,
yet such a day could never last—
what’s faster than a thought
than a hand stretching to grasp
what has always been mine;
instead of getting grabbed,
too burned from my stare.

A dream has no ears—
it has no perception of my wails
groaning before it in vain;
it dares not talk back—
it cannot
but get stuck;
unwanted, unclaimed,
too prostrate before my eyes
naked it’s been for far too long—
soon when a hand stretches out,
I lament a dream being raped
and call it mine,
and wish these two were my own hands
while it has been into mine
all along the way,
but it was I—
it was I who let it go.

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