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Dreams – William Peskett

I came across this poem in a book “The Irish Poets 1924-1974 edited by David Marcus and thought I would love to share it with you.


In truth I cannot reach you,

I’m caged within my nerves

and there I pace tight circuits

Finding exit only

when my systems sleep.

Inside, I fumble with keys

and combinations which betray

no function from within.

I think that I must know my dreams

to see myself perform.

And if we could play them back

like tapes- we’d meet in limbo,

we’d integrate, know.

In apprehensive paradise

we’d fear we weren’t ourselves.


Written by William Peskett



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