Something Personal and Naked

Hey all ,

I think you'll notice a bit of similarity between the flowing lines of this poem and the very silly Amalgamum I previously posted. This style of free-flowing thought as poetry, is inspired by Walt Whitman. When I think of Leaves of Grass, which is his only collection of poetry I think of this odd pondering that recalls to mind the title of this very blog. It places you inside this strange narrative conscience. It's interesting to think of narrative voices and poetry. I think personally I have a few different voices. One of them more contemplative and dreamy, the other sarcastic and melancholy. What kind of voices do you find emerge when your write something down? Who is that strange character behind the words.

Imagine yourself in a crowded room. Close your eyes and see the words and hear them coming out. Who says them, someone young? Someone really hot! Or someone cute? Someone with authority, someone who appears hardly there when you look deep into their eyes? Soon you'll readily see how our voice has such a rich character to it. In a way this goes back to my post of how as people we connect signs and symbols together. The same goes with voices.


Anyway, the title of this post, is perhaps unnecessary. I suppose I should apologise. My writing and posting is entirely selfish. I hope your getting some inspiration out of this, but I acknowledge the very personal nature of this blog. It is nice to even have the sense that I can share my thoughts somewhere. So this post in particular is a chance for me to share something deeper. The narrator in this poem is unabashedly me. It's the me, I imagine I'll be years from now. A bit stronger, a bit calmer, but still yearning and wishing and still idealistic. I won't say what it is I'm yearning for, I'll let the poetry do a bit of the talking.

Another interesting piece of context is I wrote this after watching the Little Mermaid. I am somewhat of a disney addict of late and surprisingly I'm finding the films more moving now that I'm older, but without further ado here is my me at my most vulnerable and naked. Here we go!


Naked

What would you do with your last day

I doubt very much you would open shop

And start to sell your wares

Maybe you should

I know that I should find my true love

In some place I’ve always somehow known

But forgotten like the idle

Searches I perform each day that lead to nothing

And then do you know what we might do

With our one day

For isn’t a day all the time in the world really

One day can mean everything in a life

Of years

I can’t really admit what we might attempt

On that day only that we will be close

As close as it is possible for two people

To be so painfully close that the end

Will be too painful more painful than

If there had ever been a beginning

And my heart shall sting and it shall yearn

And in doing so I know the next thought

Though perhaps not inside my same flesh

Must be real for flesh is

Not capable of such depth

As deep as narrow winds this love

And we must go eventually

Must we go