deepundergroundpoetry.com
All Across a Breaking World
I will know you for a little bit
then will disappear
back into the woods to work
to make myself heard clear
to know myself - just myself - once again
above the noise you're left in -
out of centuries and speakeasys polluted by the locals dissecting the time-encumbered sounds behind them
clear off time;
out of time;
dip into
solitude
lonelitude
my own self
only
for so long
most of my life
minor bright spots shine whenever i do step outside
and oh they shine how bright
like they're the end all be all
but they never are -
instead erasing fast my karma
checking off my complex life
manufacture explanations;
future makes sense of the past.
no marriage in my future
but retreat
to be so free
to wash off of me everything
to forget everybody
and come out anew again
in this way, i live a new life
every several years.
every year
i stand before the wheel of fortune
spin
and voyage off
but i see behind the bright show
through the words we speak that do not matter
to the things we cannot say,
around the worlds i've spun inside the dark
to the hidden reasons
muted dialogues and secrets
things we know between the sheets
darkness where we speak unspoken
to the worlds that gurgle in us
to the other world
to the planet forming and unforming
every minute
every year
depending on how accurate you are
to the reasons
we have met and touched
the liberation now behind us
to the casual conversation
we give now to justify it
to the filler
for the quiet,
for deserved rest and calm
beyond the death
beyond rebirth
even beyond annihilation -
you have faced annihilation
then woke up to play guitar
to go to work
to see the sunlight
smell the flowers
fuck another
new encounters
eat a sandwich
drink your coffee
struggle to quit sugar
die another
little death
discover yet
another revelation
bend the world
and take a nap
learn everything
go back to sleep
my own lonely self makes passing through death seem so small
a little blip
upon a vast, widening field
i keep discovering
all i learn
becomes so small
when i tell it to another
when he brings his shadows to the conference
of the birds
and they alight above us come the morning
when i'm left with nothing
when it has come off
when i am not now who i was,
even though for such long years
i was planning for that final moment
that's behind me, fading
as i keep on caravaning
all across a breaking world
... who am i really?
who'm i really?
when i'm left alone?
then will disappear
back into the woods to work
to make myself heard clear
to know myself - just myself - once again
above the noise you're left in -
out of centuries and speakeasys polluted by the locals dissecting the time-encumbered sounds behind them
clear off time;
out of time;
dip into
solitude
lonelitude
my own self
only
for so long
most of my life
minor bright spots shine whenever i do step outside
and oh they shine how bright
like they're the end all be all
but they never are -
instead erasing fast my karma
checking off my complex life
manufacture explanations;
future makes sense of the past.
no marriage in my future
but retreat
to be so free
to wash off of me everything
to forget everybody
and come out anew again
in this way, i live a new life
every several years.
every year
i stand before the wheel of fortune
spin
and voyage off
but i see behind the bright show
through the words we speak that do not matter
to the things we cannot say,
around the worlds i've spun inside the dark
to the hidden reasons
muted dialogues and secrets
things we know between the sheets
darkness where we speak unspoken
to the worlds that gurgle in us
to the other world
to the planet forming and unforming
every minute
every year
depending on how accurate you are
to the reasons
we have met and touched
the liberation now behind us
to the casual conversation
we give now to justify it
to the filler
for the quiet,
for deserved rest and calm
beyond the death
beyond rebirth
even beyond annihilation -
you have faced annihilation
then woke up to play guitar
to go to work
to see the sunlight
smell the flowers
fuck another
new encounters
eat a sandwich
drink your coffee
struggle to quit sugar
die another
little death
discover yet
another revelation
bend the world
and take a nap
learn everything
go back to sleep
my own lonely self makes passing through death seem so small
a little blip
upon a vast, widening field
i keep discovering
all i learn
becomes so small
when i tell it to another
when he brings his shadows to the conference
of the birds
and they alight above us come the morning
when i'm left with nothing
when it has come off
when i am not now who i was,
even though for such long years
i was planning for that final moment
that's behind me, fading
as i keep on caravaning
all across a breaking world
... who am i really?
who'm i really?
when i'm left alone?
Published 24th Feb 2020
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Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
2nd Mar 2020 10:32pm
I like this self-reflective poem on identity - no easy thing in this world with so much continuous noise vying for our distracted attentions - something the poem (for me) implies between the lines.
"... who am i really?
who'm i really?
when i'm left alone?"
I think the question 'who we are' can be answered at several levels, one of which is our relationships - and a time alone brings those relationships (or lack in/of them) into sharp relief, amplifying the existential question of our own meaning.
(and thank you for following me. Best regards, Josh).
"... who am i really?
who'm i really?
when i'm left alone?"
I think the question 'who we are' can be answered at several levels, one of which is our relationships - and a time alone brings those relationships (or lack in/of them) into sharp relief, amplifying the existential question of our own meaning.
(and thank you for following me. Best regards, Josh).
4th Mar 2020 4:31pm
Thanks for reading, I look forward to reading more of your poems, too.
This poem is extremely specific to me, or rather, my own inner world and the experience of it.... But I guess you are right about what you say in the end of your comment, except I'd phrase it another way: not in/outside the context of just our relationships, but circumstances, situations, and, well, contexts.
This poem is extremely specific to me, or rather, my own inner world and the experience of it.... But I guess you are right about what you say in the end of your comment, except I'd phrase it another way: not in/outside the context of just our relationships, but circumstances, situations, and, well, contexts.
