Under, the high
Nineteenth-century
Stamped-tin ceiling
Sits the fool.
When as a child
He was asked
What will you be
When you grow up?
He replied,
“A bum”
“A clown”.
He got his wish
He became
A bum
A clown,
An Emmet Kelly
Chasing that ever
Diminishing light.
He loves life
He says
“It’s always something”.
Everyday something new”
Usually worse but new.
He might as well hang around
To see what it is.
He assimilates
Other peoples
Experiences
And opinions now.
Maybe he always has.
His knowledge of things
Seems to be
Less a product
Of effort
Then an ongoing
Process of
Epistemological osmosis.
Happiness
He believes
Is waiting to see
What will happen next.
“Tomorrow is
Another day”
He sighs.
“Consciousness”
He whispers
“Is only what I tell myself
To keep away the darkness.”
-
Author:
Trenz Pruca (
Offline) - Published: August 6th, 2021 14:37
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 42
- Users favorite of this poem: Poetic Dan
Offline)
Comments3
there are of course other ways ... but
consciousness always does it for all of us ................................................. 🙂
enjoyed to the very hilt Trenz ..
Thank you Neville. Yes, consciousness is not always that great. On the other hand consider the alternative.
"He assimilates......osmosis." is the stanza that does it for me, Trenz. Receptivity and openness the key.
I second that and fill in the gap lol.
No need to fill in the gap, Dan. These pages are overrun with quotes half a page long and a bit of humility at the close. Not needed - reference made; let the interested return to the original and keep it in context.
I just ment the reply was underneath my friend 😉
Thank you Dave. Yes, that is also my favorite part of the poem.
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.