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markdohle

How strance that "Iam"

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Posted (edited)

How strange that “I am”

(and zombies, dreams, nihilism and such)

I remember once when very young,

it was before school, so perhaps six or so,

just walking one day along a path often played in,

behind our house somewhere in Missouri.

A time of nightmares every night,

of people, zombies, yes I was before my time,

this was 1954 after all,

with music and green fog moving in,

how dramatic it all was,

with my eyelids glued shut,

with me silently,

inwardly,

screaming to wake up one more time,

before I was caught in their embrace,

coming to seek me in a dark dank woods,

and I running over gravel, so tired, my legs numb,

no one to help, just people laughing, laughing,

always laughing,

until tears ran down their eyes,

and I,

well,

what could I do,

I just looked and stared,

to young to curse, that came later,

and then as hands reached out I woke up,

every night until I was ten,

and then they stopped,

perhaps I met my quoted of nightmares,

for now,

well,

I have few.

I digress,

it was then at that time,

as I waked,

not a care in the world,

(that was for the night with the zombies,)

suddenly before one step and another,

one leg in the air,

I suddenly realized that I ‘was’.

How strange I thought I ‘am’.

I can think, what is that?

Self awareness without form or place,

It seems absurd that I am conscious at all,

how is this possible?

What a wonder I thought somberly,

not overjoyed, but in awe,

that the impossible was possible.

and there I was, suddenly sentient,

or self-consciously so.

I wonder if there are really children in the world,

was I ever a child (?)

or perhaps now that I am old,

I am that child I never was,

seeking to trust,

love and laugh,

in spite of the often absurd nature of it all.

Faith and nihilism seem to be at war,

the roots of faith deeper….

but the yawning nothingness there still,

or is that God, this infinite void,

that which we all walk over;

is what is calling this still struggling child?

Edited by markdohle

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How is it that I always have a feeling that you write a poem instead of a thread... If so, I couldn't grasp the genuineness of your poem...

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How is it that I always have a feeling that you write a poem instead of a thread... If so, I couldn't grasp the genuineness of your poem...

LOL, I think it was a rant, poem, thread, or whatever.

Peace

mark

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