I don't want to talk about it.I think this may have actually been written sometime in 2001. I'm not sure if I can explain it, which is kind of the point of the poem. Suffice to say, I have a hard time focusing on one idea. There's never just one solid, concrete direction to take in thought process, and my mind sometimes feels like it's spinning out of control trying to remember all the possibilities that came up so I can go back and think about them later. I'll leave it there before I get into it.
I don't want to know.
How do I make sense of all these
Ideas going through my head?
A myriad of jumbled words, translations, thoughts,
Experiences. Do they mean anything
At all? All somehow related with an
Indecipherable brainstormed spiderweb diagram.
Bombarded constantly by my minds own
Agenda to seek the truth. The word itself
Instantly conjures hundreds of avenues to be pursued. Struck
Dumb with the enormity of information presented and
Discarded for new so rapidly
Conscious thought alone cannot follow the
Path to conclusion. If I don't understand myself,
How can I explain my logic to others?
I want to talk about it.
I want to know.
But who can understand?
What's with all the poems?
the earley edition - Posted by Dave @ 7/31/2004 01:17:00 pm || ||