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Why did I create this world?

With its torturous curiosities

Demented absences

Of a wholly degenerate

Splintering?

Was it alpha or omega?

This world that assails me

With tremendous furies:

The acid rain of bitter scorn,

Laced with Protean fogs of

Disillusionment.

The excessive furrowing

Of one’s essential

Uniqueness.

Where is this ‘soul’?

Supposedly conversing

Like a hard-won bridge

Between Scylla

& Charybdis?

 

To ask, is to dislocate

From one’s ineffable core.

Yet in moments like these,

Seized by uncontrollable

Spirits of Mercurius,

One is beholden to ponder

On the origins of it all;

One’s ‘worldview’,

The utterly indescribable

Quintessence of one’s subjectivity.

The ‘I’ that is only an ‘I’

In relation to ‘Thou’.

Where I am only an I

Sempiternally in the mirror

Of your annihilating eyes.

 Where I die

And am forever reborn again

In the passing of a mere

Flicker of the stars,

In an overcast, moonless night sky.

Comments (4)

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Extraordinary example of free association, something of a symbolic representation of the chaos of the content. I'm fascinated by your somewhat unorthodox view of subjectivity, which seems to be a relatively stable entity within the chaos. Perhaps...

Extraordinary example of free association, something of a symbolic representation of the chaos of the content. I'm fascinated by your somewhat unorthodox view of subjectivity, which seems to be a relatively stable entity within the chaos. Perhaps I am mistaken. But that leads me to the mystery off the utterly indescribable "I," which, given it's mere "I-ness" in relation to the "Thou" (a Buber fan I take it), which would have to be characterized as something like the "ineffable of the ineffable." I'm not complaining, I'd just like to have see it elaborated in some way. I love this piece of writing. Bravo! Rusty

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Rusty
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A nearly perfect poem.

Eric Lawson
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The beginning does it for me. In a world where personal responsibility has taken a back seat to "predisposition," the fact is, we do create our own worlds, and it is in the asking, there is the rub.

a
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Forcefully intergrated with total seperation of hope, the word construction appears to be "created" in puratory. Incredible, Fantastic, Bravo. I for one want to hear more.

Vangoman
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