The nightly hours can be an inspiration for those who write poetry. This poem is about dreams I had. The dreams about things in this world that were about to take place. Some wil consider this to be of no importance, others won’t. I dreamt… is a poem that combined several of my dreams I had over the years, including the most recent one.
About the poem
It was years ago when I dreamt about an airplane that flew over some buildings and would crash. I had this dream weeks before an airplane of EL Al crashed into two flats in Amsterdam. A year before I was on holiday in Switzerland where I dreamt about a city I did not know of: Riyadh. I found out later that this was the city the royal family of Kuwait fled to, when the Iraqi troops invaded Kuwait.
It is hard for me to talk about these things. I want to be the person wo tells others that reality is just reality. But this lacks any form of reality. Again, think what you may about these dreams of mine. I hope that mine will from now on consist only of happiness. Nothing more, nothing less.
I dreamt about war, airplanes flying
throwing their load, people dying
Houses and other buildings were shattered
Lives, thousands of them, destroyed
I once dreamt I saw an airplane flying
low over buildings in Amsterdam
I feared people dying
as the plane took a dive, before it would slam
itself into concrete
and crashing onto the street
Where is Riyadh I once asked my sister
She gave me no answer
Pointed to a newspaper, a royal family fled there
It was so sinister
Oh, some say that it’s a gift
Seeing things that others don’t
I wouldn’t be so swift
to see it in a positive way, I won’t
But what is it then, a curse perhaps?
Maybe it’s just a relapse,
of lost time
just to haunt me during nighttime
I want to dream, don’t get me wrong
But I fear those dreams of people dying
I want to see only the living
the loving, so strong, on and on.