Armand Poetry

Welcome to Armand Poetry. The poems (and other words) here are composed for my own thought and amusement. Comment and discussion are welcome. -Amore, Armand-

Sunday, June 26, 2005

The Unblinking Chain

We are what we do?

I am a musician, but only when I'm playing.
I am a dancer, but only when I'm dancing.
I am a lover, but only when I'm kissing.

When the dance is over, I SAY I'm a dancer
But right now I am a sitter and a typer.

How are these moments connected?
What is the glue that holds me together?

What is it that makes the ME of 20 years ago
The me that is here today?

Surely there is some consistency beyond the process
Afer all, I do remember those 20 years.

While it is impossible to crawl back along the line
It is also impossible to erase that trail
Leading "down from the door" as old JRRT would say.

The tuesdays and februaries go in a circle
But it is sort of an expanded slinky kind of circle
The point of return is actually a new point entirely
Just as there are many different Johns in the world,
There are many different tuesdays
In fact, they are all different

So, it would seem to follow that each one is a separate event
Which somehow comes into existence exactly at the destruction of its past
And is destroyed immediately at the creation of its future
But not without passing on all the important information
In a split-second handshake and a how-to manual

Read quickly.......don't blink.


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