Today we shall talk to ourselves.
There is an eternal dilemma, one that no-one can ever
Solve in a definitive manner, one that can merely be
Resolved for the individual at the time and place of
Consideration. Is this poem an extension of the poet,
Or is it an entity that stands alone and assumes an
Independent existence as soon as the words have
Been released into the wild?
For me the dilemma is simple, and also it is beyond solving.
The poem is new born and takes flight as soon
As I have committed it to the resting place that
I want it to have, on a blog or webpage, in a book
Or just in the depths and recesses of my mind.
Sometimes the poem is part of me, and says what I,
The poet, am thinking and feeling, but other times
It says other things, and is not my own personal mirror.
And the point of this rambling exposition of inane
Existentialism is that today the poem is expected
To interrogate itself.
This is possible in several ways, but it will happen one way
Or another if the poem is seen as part of the poet, or
It will happen a different way or a different another if
The poem is regarded as having a discrete existence once it has
Been launched from the confines of my mind.
I will let the reader decide which.
© 2ndwitch, 15/04/15
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