Monday, 22 September 2008

• Currently Listening Greatest Hits By Journey Wheel In The Sky see related

  Who are You? Who am I? [edited]

  Retracing my steps,
  following lines in the sand;
  Who I Was defines
  Who I've Become.
  The Past and the Present,
  colliding in time;
  head on collision
  with disasterous results.
  Who are you? They ask,
  wondering, waiting,
  seeking their own definitive answers.
  Who am I? You ask,
  silently, patiently hating,
  seeking your own inconclusive answers.
  Never a moment's hesitation
  when all falls shy, just short
  of your every Great Expectation.
  Pick up the pieces, because
  you know that you will.
  Then piece them back together,
  your quilt, your puzzle,
  still a disillusionment to you.
  How do you carry on,
  when you can't recall where you've been?
  How do you keep moving forward,
  when you can't remember glancing backward?
  Who are you? They ask,
  Not really caring at all.
  Who am I? You ask,
  Wondering if you'll ever know.

   

  Poet's Note: I have been inspired and influenced by music my entire life. I grew up listening to the sounds and tunes of the 70's and 80's because that's what my father listened to. We had a picture of me when I was a baby wearing my dad's huge earphones with a gigantic smile on my face. I remember that picture so well. I wish I still had it. It sums up who I am quite completely. My father shaped my music interests, and thusly, shaped who I've become. Though I know that now, he disapproves of the majority of what I listen to, those early influences still hold their bearing. Lately I've been listening to those oldies and noticing that as time has gone on, how lost those sounds, those songs, those feelings have become. The Past remains with us in memory, but all traces of it's existance fade away with time. I used to be a person plauged and haunted by memory and I hated it. I desperately wished it away; little did I know it's possible to forget. To erase the past so completely it's like taking a wipe to a marker bored and erasing what's written there. In essence, that's what this poem is about. I felt the need to explain that more for my own benefit than yours. Read into it what you like, that's what poetry is all about - finding your own meaning between the words.

  Fatally Yours,
  Dead End Poet

   

  EDITed @ 9:40PM

  Retracing my steps,
  following lines in the sand;
  Who I Was defines
  Who I've Become.
  The Past and Present
  Collide together,
  Crashing like cars;
  Beautiful colors,
  And bleak days -
  Painted together on canvas;
  Call it abstract art,
  Whatever,
  It's still chaos in the end.
  Who are you? They ask,
  wondering, waiting,
  seeking their own definitive answers.
  Who am I? You ask,
  silently, patiently hating,
  seeking your own inconclusive answers.
  Never a moment's hesitation
  when all falls shy, just short
  of your every Great Expectation.
  Pick up the pieces, because
  you know that you will.
  Then piece them back together,
  your quilt, your puzzle,
  still a disillusionment to you.
  How do you carry on,
  when you can't recall where you've been?
  How do you keep moving forward,
  when you can't remember glancing backward?
  Who are you? They ask,
  Not really caring at all.
  Who am I? You ask,
  Wondering if you'll ever know.

   

  which version would you choose?

  • 4:13 PM
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