Trippe Reineman Day 1 Poem

Interpretation of Salvadore Dali's painting, "The Persistence of Memory" (that famous droopy clock painting)


"What are dreams made of?" we wonder.
Is it sleep; restful, peaceful and deep?
Perhaps it is just an exhausted mind that needs to slumber.
Or maybe, just maybe, dreams are our other blanket
That we like to hide under.

What are dreams if not escape from reality?
Where else can we go to run from our father,
A father who reminds us of our own brevity.

Father time, alive but never truly living;
A selfish man, always taking and never giving.
So what are dreams if not a respite?
Shades to pull down over our plight?

Our chance to defy all that we know,
a chance to relinquish all that we owe.
The laws of nature seem to split at the seam,
for who is our master once in a dream?
A sea extends into nothingness, fading into the sky
And the concept of time itself is left hung out to dry.