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tunnel of reality
by Charlie Morganmy tunnel of reality only allows
certain images to slither through
and come to my mind, my center.
milk men wear white. bankers lie.
lawyers are sleezes. teachers: dumb.
then i become taster of all reality.
a mirror gives back a fecund image;
distorted by its reality of non-being.
i'm not me, i exist as an image only.
i decide to be light; to burn as
minstrels circle me and i guffaw;
pleasing me, yes, pleasing me.
04/16/2008 Posted on 04/16/2008
Copyright © 2026 Charlie Morgan
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 04/17/08 at 04:20 AM What a great tone in this. You have such a gift for that. |
| Posted by Alison McKenzie on 04/21/08 at 04:29 PM We are surely not our bodies. You are the eternal soul - THAT is the substance to which our essential selves cling. At least, that's the way I understand it these days. Where do we find THAT image? How do we understand the soul's plight when most everything is filtered through this physical vehicle? Yes, our image (the illusion of it), our feeeeeeelings (the illusion of them) pleases us at different points along the way. These material sensations, again to my best understanding, create attachments to the material realm that keep us coming back for more! Ahhh, well, Charlie, another wonderful piece! |
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