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Poetry Magnum Opus

At the sink


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Tonight at the sink


I caught myself thinking


Who am I?


And what should I be?


And this is all taking place


After 41 years of being conscious


Or is that an arrogant thing to say?



If I’m still confused after all this time


Then surely I must be relatively unconscious


But I digress!



So I am thinking


Oh so is it about time and experience?


Is it about how much knowledge I’ve assimilated?


Or how many people I’ve loved?


Is it perhaps about what I believe in and can expound upon


Full of pomp and pride


At dinner parties


In front of people who don’t really care what I’m talking about


Because they’re just thinking about the next thing


That they want to say






Call me melodramatic


Or Woody Allen’esque if you want to


But the fact remains that


Tonight at the sink


I caught myself thinking


Who am I?


And what should I be?



And this is all taking place


After I almost lost my life


One evening when I saw a truck’s headlights hitting me


When I flew through the air feeling the


Most intense lack of control


As my soul was hurled toward death


Seven slow times


Around and around


The crushing metal and the breaking glass


And the hissing of the ground



And so I think


It’s perhaps about Karma


Or Buddha


Or Zen


Being in this moment


No past, no future


Just the present


After all this is all there really is



But being stuck in a dimension ruled by space and time


Can make it rather difficult


To put into practice


This presence



And so in trying to answer myself


I realise that I actually do


Indeed know nothing about these


Grand existential enquiries


It would be nice to be able


To attach myself


To become ‘something’


But would that in its self be the end of enquiry?



It really doesn’t matter what I think actually


Or what you think


Or what I think you think of me


Or what I thought you thought about what


I think I said



What it’s about


Is the end



And the worst part is


Nobody really knows


When it’s going to happen

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Hello Douglas. How refreshingly different. Introspective themes usually mean someone bleeding all over the page. You however, have touched salient personal points as well as philosophical ones. To do this in an overt way in such a short and honest poem is an achievement. “Just another brick in the wall” doesn't cover it and don't worry about being confused. I can assure you that the answers do not come with age; only perhaps a certain tolerance of the human condition. :icon_eek: Benjamin.

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Hi Douglas, Wow, this is a way to get us all asking questions we thought we had answered a long time ago. I loved how this piece so smoothly moved me down the page, deeper and deeper into thought. Nice.



~~ © ~~ Poems by Judi Van Gorder ~~

For permission to use this work you can write to Tinker1111@icloud.com

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This is an interesting poem to read in reverse order- last line first and then on up the page until the first line is the last. It can be enlightening to read your own poem that way. Try it. You might find something revealing there.

from the black desert

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