“Who Am I”

“And Who Am I”

And who am I in all of this? Alibis
Within me raise a cry wherever ears
Lean to hear the accusations, fears,
The slight misgivings as I can hear a choir of flies
That never seems to feed enough to rest nor gain
An edge on satisfaction. Harpies stand in line
For a little light conversation, milk left standing, blind,
When in an instant what was not well framed
Has no name but persists for yet another round, a trial
More of patience than of wit or witness. A flat denial.
Poverty of sight and never ending delay deranges
Compromise. Well, after all a mind’s a finite thing,
And as with a thesis in the tub, antithesis leaves its ring.

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2 responses to ““Who Am I”

  1. loving the ‘ring left in the bath’ image now firmly lodged in my mind, with my fingers itching to get the sponge and cleaning fluid to wash it all away!! ;-)
    Who am I indeed, and what do I measure myself against? (Love that gorgeous decorated Tub.) xPenx

  2. Not that I would care to try it on, but I have often wondered what life feels like to one who apparently has everything including an imperial tub to enjoy; from what I have seen and heard, however, I’ll just “make do” with the tub I have. When it comes to difficulties in life, I have come to the point at which what seems greater to face than any particular difficulty or decision is the obscene number of choices left for me to fix whatever goes wrong. The proverbial “Pick one, and go for it!” usually helps to make short shrift of the problem of choosing, and, or so it seems to me, the way the world is turning, very shortly, we’ll all be back to making simple choices such as “To be or not to be,” and thanking God that we in fact are what we are.

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