Which I Is I?
by Debashish Haar — Read all 156 poems by Debashish Haar
Illustration: Hand with Globe (M. C. Escher).
Note: the poem is NOT ecphrasis or mimesis, not any kind of interpretation of the art.
Thursday, November 10, 2005
They autopsy violated bodies
of insomniacs and schizophrenics
to know if they died of hunger
if they died of wealth
if they died of terror, or
if they died of life.
Others, busy, devise strategies,
make stories in glossy magazines and newspapers
about unexpected alliances between stars.
Invisible ink prints stories on invisible minds
in mute pulp--recycled, redistributed--
if lucky, in bestselling books.
The special scavengers,
burning midnight oil!
Unable to fit in these cities and mansions
I question my voice,
my language, which has never
transmuted into elements.
I question which I is I—
the one scribing
or the one hidden inside?
Thank you for clearing that up, Debashish. :-)
This is it: the question of which I is I and we all go through it from time to time, at least those of us who don't fall into cookie cutter molds easily, and then the ones who are easily molded to fit in with the rest of the cookies try to tell us who question our I that we have a disease. ;-) Oh, you've given me more to ponder.
~Linda
the one scribing
or the one hidden inside? '
:) shoma
Brillant.
Sandie May Angel a.k.a. Sandie Angel :o)
the one scribing
or the one hidden inside?
And that is definitely a most interesting question for us all, Debashish.