I don't know what I am
The dream from which I'm waking has left me in a trance
A dissociated state kept separate from yesterday
Where the immediate is all there is of me at all
There is nothing here but me
Neither bush nor building for as far as I can see
And I struggle to discern without anything external
Whether I might be a mountain or a mouse
Still I feel I'm rather tall
The dirt clouds at my feet do not reach my face at all
And though I move through space, I do not so from my place
And living things so often easily are moved
The wind blows upon my mass
Moving pieces of whatever might be fur and might be grass
And in the feeling is revealed that I could not be made of rock
Though I can only know what I myself might feel
As I'm mostly gray and white
From my features and my feelings I cannot easily decide
And as it's by what I do that it's determined who I am
And as I interact with nothing, so am I
In fact, I can't think of a test
That could once it was decided, lay uncertainty to rest
Unless the context that I'm in be changed or understood again
Then by proximity and history, I'll know
Mountainous majestic meanderings mixing masterfully
merriment momentarily made monumental mistake
many munched meat, majesty’s masterful melody of melding.
If consciousness were to exist
beyond the self
What opinions
might it change
Can something exist outside
its space
Can something be something
it’s not
Is time the new slave
to the master it birthed
Can the end
be started again
Can the future or past
exist on their own
Can the present
be something that’s both
Can you believe what the facts
will disprove or disclaim
With reflection beyond logic
and guilt
Can you teach what you’ve learned
in spite of yourself
Can your silence
—tame the mountainous roar
(Villanova Pennsylvania: November, 2016)
surpassing sublime
pristine majestic waters
mountain footstool drop
Barbara Washington
Water pool rippled as mountainous tears poured;
cascading rapids spray fallen boulder with foam.
Cleansing impurities that winter and spring stored;
refreshing mother’s evergreen menagerie home.
Cascading rapids spray fallen boulder with foam;
singing its babble, echoing against high rocky cliff.
Refreshing mother’s evergreen menagerie home,
with earthy rustic aroma in each new whiff.
Singing its babble, echoing against high rocky cliff;
surging under ferns of extended spindly blade.
With earthy rustic aroma in each new whiff;
presenting its wild fragrant outdoor glade.
Surging under ferns of extended spindly blade;
clear waters flow swift, sparkle in the sunlight ray.
Presenting its wild fragrant outdoor glade;
abundant in growth and a pure wildlife buffet.
Clear waters flow swift, sparkle in the sunlight ray;
cleansing impurities that winter and spring stored.
Abundant in growth and a pure wildlife buffet;
water pool rippled as mountainous tears poured.
Copyright © 2011 By Caryl S. Muzzey
An angel with her hands of equal height,
Her foot in the water,
Looking down on a man,
Sitting in a park,
Reading a book.
The book is called The rise and fall of the third Reich.
Crowned by golden rays,
Copious kingdom obtains:
Tiara of light.
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