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Click hereI envy people in books.
Even uncertainties
are precise,
shaped by words
in black and white
Not so for me.
My thoughts, my words impure.
An animal caged by barriers unseen,
I remain confused, enraged, unclean.
Cleardaynow - I wish more folks would comment on their work - very interesting. I guess when we put stuff out there it becomes open to so many different perceptions - one of the things that make this so much fun.
don't both interpretations say almost the exact same thing :-p
I like this by the way 5-ed
I agree with Oldbear63’s interpretation rather than the interpretation in my own last comment.
I seem to have wandered off the actual poem into territory of my own – people commenting seem to do that a fair bit.
Tempted to delete my comment – certainly would like to change it. Think I had had a difficult day.
Tempted to say more. Am resisting that temptation.
Great Author aka as God !?! 5-ed .
with my interpretation - that people in books are not beset by the complexity of real life, no matter how good the author. I'm going with that!
Like ‘The Urban Spaceman’ people in books don’t exist. Their relationship to actual people – even if it is a story about actual people – is a strange relationship. Sometimes that relationship seems strong and clear. Sometimes not.
Sometimes our lives seem clear and describable. We can talk in terms of family, career, hopes etc. We stand on solid ground – so it seems.
Sometimes there is no solid ground. We are lost. Maybe it is something bad happening: fear, death, illness, loss. Sometimes it is that there are things within us we do not face, do not understand, cannot cope with.
Philosopher know thyself. But we don’t.
Shit. I am trying to explain my own poem. Bad mistake.
And of course there's the twist - my poem itself is a book - as is this comment.
But do the people in books know their path is already spelled out? Or for them is life confusing and caged as well?