Borderline Consciousness

by silvershoes   Oct 17, 2010


Most days,
i'm living in the matrix.
i'm covered in goop somewhere -
i can almost feel it, brush
my skin with rough fingertips;
there's a coat of melted rubber
and clear glutinous pseudo liquid
all across my body.

Most days,
i'm not sure if i'm real.
i get twisted in conceptions of
reality, and i forget what it is,
and i forget if i woke up this morning.

Most days,
the thudding in my chest
reverberates; i can feel it bounce
against the walls of my skeleton,
but when i press my palm against
the warm meat of my bosom,
i'm never sure if i'll feel a beat.
i do a double check.
i shove my fingers into my neck,
digging deep for a pulse.

Most days,
i wonder at what it means to be human.
Am i a sack of blood and water?
Is the gray matter in my brain relevant?
Is the phenotypical expression of my
alleles significant?
Am i a product of my environment?
Is my life worth more than the richness
of the earth on which
i tread?
...what am i doing here?

Most days,
i'm unsure of everything, and
i'm not sure of anything.

Most days,
i occupy my time with
distractions from the feebleness
of my mind.

Most days,
i could swear i don't exist.

Most days,
i wonder why i bother.

----

Again, the i's are intentional.

0


Did You Like This Poem?

Latest Comments

  • 13 years ago

    by Sungrl And Mrs Whatsit

    ...most of what Sibyllene said and also:

    This is a terrific, raw, poetic, universally understandable, and philosophically charged inquiry into meaning in Life..
    My own perspective is exactly sequential to the existential quandaries here stated:

    We are here to discover why we are here..
    It must be done and, if possible, we Will do it.

    StriveOn.

  • 13 years ago

    by Sunshine

    Most days,
    i'm living in the matrix.
    i'm covered in goop somewhere -
    i can almost feel it, brush
    my skin with rough fingertips;
    there's a coat of melted rubber
    and clear glutinous pseudo liquid
    all across my body.
    ^ MAN,,,the opening is such a perfect stanza Jane..I feel like you are talking to me as a reader, and trying badly to reflect your feelings. the very 1st 2 lines, stood for me in a sad way..then as I kept reading I had this weird mood ( in a gd way) because the wording is detailed

    Most days,
    i'm not sure if i'm real.
    >>JANE..very touchy!

    i get twisted in conceptions of
    reality, and i forget what it is,
    and i forget if i woke up this morning.
    >>wow..I am out of words, such a maze indeed. I feel like you are lost over here like sad.. and Unsure

    Most days,
    the thudding in my chest (((STRONG))))
    reverberates; i can feel it bounce
    against the walls of my skeleton,
    but when i press my palm against
    the warm meat of my bosom,
    i'm never sure if i'll feel a beat.
    i do a double check.
    i shove my fingers into my neck,
    digging deep for a pulse.
    ^^^NO praise..no exaggeration . Your words over here brought tears to my eyes, not one or 2..I am weeping ..seriously.. the way you have written it is too wise and too SAd,,,more than a young woman can handle. And it is just how I feel, I got thoughts about being smothered by weights over ones shoulders, and this mountain that's resting over MY chest..
    the poem is incredible!

    Most days,
    i wonder at what it means to be human.
    Am i a sack of blood and water?
    Is the gray matter in my brain relevant?
    Is the phenotypical expression of my
    alleles significant?

    ^ I planned on commenting the whole stanza 2gather but, as I read the next line I found it too deep..so about the lines above.. I think the simplicity of what you are wondering about, is deeper than the words you have penned !..which is inspiring..

    Am i a product of my environment?
    Is my life worth more than the richness
    of the earth on which
    i tread?
    ...what am i doing here?
    >>>JAne, sometimes I find this little philosopher inside of you, same one I sometimes find inside of me, and I wonder if such wisdom; been costing you as much as been costing me.. Because the questions that you have worded perfectly here are too rich .

    Most days,
    i'm unsure of everything, and
    i'm not sure of anything.
    >>smart and nice..I love these 2 lines. Makes it sound like you are a real human lol( i knw i lost u here, just think about it :P )

    Most days,
    i occupy my time with
    distractions from the feebleness
    of my mind.
    ^^^many ppl will relate to this..unless they are from those ppl who are busy reading Poise magazines

    Most days,
    i could swear i don't exist.

    Most days,
    i wonder why i bother.
    >>I think after all these insights that I have been diving within their wisdom, deepness and perhaps sadness..the poem deserves a stronger ending. One word would make the whole difference..

    Jane thank u for the poem..i dont knw what's about your poetry that makes me weep , think, smile and wonder .
    Stay wise, stay mature...obviously suits u

    5.5

  • 13 years ago

    by Jad

    Hmm... this was a great poem in many aspects as it gives the reader many, many things to wonder and think about and he/she reads the questions that you portray in the poem. I am sure that are many people who wonder the things that you have asked yourself. I think that you have hit the main idea and answers in this poem as they gave the reader and sense of unsecurity of the mindset in which they live and their type of reality in which they live.

    "Most days,
    i wonder at what it means to be human.
    Am i a sack of blood and water?
    Is the gray matter in my brain relevant?
    Is the phenotypical expression of my
    alleles significant?
    Am i a product of my environment?
    Is my life worth more than the richness
    of the earth on which
    i tread?
    ...what am i doing here?"

    This was by far my favorite stanza as it posted many questions for the reader as we try to distingush these answer ourselves. You have some good imagery I will add in this piece as well as some interesting metaphors. Good job and keep writing.

  • 13 years ago

    by sibyllene

    Hey, this sounds familiar! Doesn't it seem like the more you're exposed to poetry stuff, the more you start thinking in poetry? Not that our Club discussions are all poetical, but you're still on the site, and yeah. That's what I think, at least. Now to the poem...

    I liked the tone of this poem, and I like how it evolved. The first stanza has this sort of self-depreciating feel, like "I know this might sound silly but I actually do think this," so it's said with almost a smirk. The second stanza takes a step toward the more somber. The third, then.... oh! It's great. I think the third stanza could easily stand on its own. The almost twinge-inducing image of digging into your neck for a pulse... that's some thought. It's forceful and uncomfortable, and desperate enough to fit the mood of the "digger." The clarity of the image in this stanza is the real meat of the poem, to me. I think it works where it is, but I would almost consider moving it closer to the end. That stanza seems to be where the self-consciousness of the rest of the poem falls away, and there you are, vulnerable and searching.

    The whole poem has that contrast. You're serious about it, but people look at you funny when you talk too much about the true nature of reality, so you're guarding it behind a layer of wryness. The movement of the poem from beginning to end is the push and pull of those two layers and their unveiling.

  • 13 years ago

    by Michael D Nalley

    A more personal mental interrogation of the philosophy i think therefore i am The low key i speak to me, although I am not sure how insignificant the author feels

More Poems By silvershoes