Totemic Conundrum
Who wrote this poem,
This conjunction of thoughts
From memories,
Mine?
Experiences solely,
Mine?
Number, line and dot,
Understandings,
Mine?
Asking…
Always we ask
From where
Drifts,
Darts,
Stabs,
Slides,
These words?
Assume we must.
Alchemy of mind,
Maybe?
Channeling,
perhaps?
Inspiration,
Mm?
Answers?
A guess,
Assumption,
Calculation,
Odds,
Chance?
Even when willing to
Ask,
Assume,
Conjecture,
There seems to be no stopping
Our floating about pages.
Our magic carpet
Transports us to
Cave-walls of a collective-mind
Yet to be discovered,
Time's ancient etchings,
Continuance awaiting arousal
From where this endurance originates?
We know not.
Yet…
We ponder
The totemic conundrum,
And we write.
That is an interesting image of the three monkeys: Hear no evil, Speak no evil, and See no evil. When I was just a child, I remember that my mother had a nail file with those three monkeys adorning the top of it in stamped metal. She also had a very thin notepad she gave me in my teens. At the top of the pad on each page was printed, "A notepad for narrow-minded bastards." She certainly wasn't narrow-minded and quite literate for not going to college.
Ron