what i think when i think about myself

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the unembellished glass on my window
is not of a reflecting kind, it changes color
with the sun’s brow, disguised by its own
retention of what hitherto it did beget –

when i think about selves, i mirror
the glass of my window, and pluck apples
from my eyes to taste the sense of sight,
and single out every experience in its own light,

when i think about lives, i snigger
like the loony bark of the mutt outside, and push
into the so-called oblivion, a thought to right
the wrongs of being one of a kind, of this plight,

when i think about you, i am triggered
by your mirror of my own life, and try to pick
from your eyes, any sign of a comic relief, to indict
myself for subsumption of an egotistic delight,

when i think about myself, i quiver
like the potent wine of the sky outside, and pull
out from my own self, a torn thought to site
every memory, to extinguish into the night.

.

For Poets United Midweek Motif

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20 thoughts on “what i think when i think about myself

  1. Susan says:

    Gosh. First, how I enjoyed the mirror that doesn’t mirror, a self that reflects a non-imitative nature: “i mirror / the glass of my window, and pluck apples / from my eyes to taste the sense of sight,” In such a vast freedom each experience is unique, but there is no control, is there, over what others see and decide? In such a Sartrian vision, is one destined to be alone with the night, extinguishing one thought after another? Or can one take another along?

    Liked by 1 person

  2. “and pluck apples
    from my eyes to taste the sense of sight,”

    That’s the thing about our Eden-ian self we always want to know more and test that god spirit within us

    Hadnt read your poems in quite a while. Welcome back. Thank you for dropping by my blog today Anmol.

    much love…

    Like

  3. Beverly Crawford says:

    “Subsumption of an egotistic delight” … now I’m going to ponder that! The first lines only of the last 4 stanzas are a poem of their own. Interesting.

    Like

  4. Wow! This is wonderful writing Ha. What a great poem it is with beautiful similis to amuse us none better than “I quiver like the potent wine of the sky outside…”

    Like

  5. I just had to come visit when I saw you on the list. It’s been too long since I have read your words. Your muse is alive and well…so, glad I came to read..

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  6. Systematic and beautiful description of a theory of mind, how we perceive and integrate consciousness of self and other, and in your poem – the collective- into our experience. I am reminded of Dostoyevskian active empathy in stanzas 3 and 4:
    when i think about lives, i snigger
    like the loony bark of the mutt outside, and push
    into the so-called oblivion, a thought to right
    the wrongs of being one of a kind, of this plight,

    when i think about you, i am triggered
    by your mirror of my own life, and try to pick
    from your eyes, any sign of a comic relief, to indict
    myself for subsumption of an egotistic delight,

    This resonates beautifully for with the following from “the daily philosopher “
    “From individual, personal acts of selfishness to political injustices on a social scale, we may be entangled in some way or other with unfairly gained rewards. Though these benefits may not have been sought by us, and we may have had no direct role in the sacrifices that brought them about, still it seems incumbent on us to consider Dostoevsky’s poignant question—how much should we feel the pain of others, particularly those whose suffering somehow became our advantage? “

    http://www.thedailyphilosopher.org/daily/000015.php

    Like

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