Saturday, February 10, 2007
I want a Poem
I get caught up in the essence of things and don't always express in a way the exudes poetic beauty. In some moments I find that I refuse to read poetry and view it as a waste of time. I don't want to decipher anything at all. I want to be told what things are, but things are not clear. The most poetic people are probably those that despise poetry the most. Maybe they worry they will never understand the poem they are reading or understand anything about life. I have been right about a few things in life and cling to that with tremendous pride. I have been wrong about most things and hold a subtle secret shame. Nothing is something and something is nothing is pretty much synopsis of every profound poem and though I could say it I am not sure that truly understood the sentiment. I am not sure that I understand the sentiment now. My roommate was a tow truck driver though I think he called it something else. He is in the US air force and I am some sort of modern day hippie. I am trying to stop war and he is also trying to stop war. Both of us go about this mission in the only way we know how. He of (Indian Descent) heads to the middle east and I of (Eastern European Jewish Descent) head to India. Both of us have our own missions and both of us have our own ways. Both of us shared a bunk bed and went to the University of Michigan. Both of us had a sister and did not think all that much of college as an institution. We both had plans that were different then most of the other people in college and both of us have followed thru. Both of us are loved by some and despised by others. Both of us have had our successes and failures with the opposite sex. Both of us have an ability to make people laugh on purpose and completely by accident. Me and my old college roommate aren't really all that different despite what anyone says and neither are the people he is being sent to Protect/Destroy depending on your perspective. I want to take this moment and focus on what is similar. Me and my old roommate are just two misfits trying to find our way in this world with our various talents and making choices based on our experiences. Here is my poem. I wanted a poem and now a poem has manifested.