But who is this me, whom I want to be?
This me I wish I'll be,
just like the air I breathe!
This air I breathe becomes a slave to me:
As I breath it in,
it becomes caged inside my lungs.
but then, I breathe it out,
And it becomes free,
to once again become a slave to me.
Who exactly is that this me is?
I know for sure, that this me, it's not free.
so I supposed, indeed,
that this me is like the air I breathe!
But why can't the air be truly free?
I think it's a survival thing....
My diaphragm wants me to live.
Thus, it contracts to slave the air inside my lungs.
But as my lungs began to expand,
the air fights... ( I can't hold it all inside.
the air's fight for freedom suffocates me).
And my diaphragm wants me to live,
so it starts to relax, and slowly,
let's the air out.
That's when the air becomes free!
That's when my diaphragm feels the need to contract again,
so I may live.
That's when this cycle of attaining freedom repeats.
Yet if you think it through, the air I breathed out,
it's not the same air I breathed in.
Note: This is an experiment - I guess in this piece, the diaphragm can be friends with the air, and invite it in, instead of using force and slave it.
Luce, you know how much I love your poems, especially the ones that make me think! You explore the relationship between the necessity for air and us, claiming that air is enslaved to us, acknowledging that we are slaves to air as well, and it explores this duality quite well.
The last verse:
"Yet if you think it through, the air I breathed out,
it's not the same air I breathed in."
^ this made me think, that perhaps we are not the same for having breathed in the air in the first place, that a part of us is born with every breath, and another part of us dies with every exhale.
Sorry for taking so long. Your poetry is a whole different world compared to most poems I read here, and I mean that as a compliment. You always try new things, and even though I know you sometimes struggle with grammar, it doesn't bother me at all because you use it to your advantage. You play with syntax in a way I've seen no other poet do, seeing wordplay where others would've skipped over. For that, I applaud you.
Now onto the actual poem.
The first part, featuring the breathing, it's read so lightly! I truly love your tone here and simplicity of words. You throw out rules about not using the same word too many times, and dictate your atmosphere here. It's such a ... childlike wonderment. I read this part from the eyes of a curious child, astonished by things that adults take for granted, and taking complex and dark things (slave) but turning them into something light again.
Just one thing: "A I 'breath' it in" should be 'breathe'.
Second part, starting with: "Who exactly is that this me is?". I must admit that this sentence had me stumbling a bit. I had to read it a few times to make sense of it, and I'm not really sure if I grasp its true intention, but I like your use of the abstract descriptions 'that'/'this'. Again, the childlike wonderment. Thats and This' seem so beautifully... shapeless, just like air. It's hard to grasp, it's hard to understand, and so, what better way to describe questions about the self than words that trigger more questions, more curiosity about the actual shape?
Just a small error here: "so I 'supposed', indeed,", should be 'suppose'.
During the third part of the poem you seem to throw in some more complex objects, but the way you use it still masterfully contains the tone you've been having throughout all of your poem. It's like a child that just returned from biology lessons or something and now her favourite new word is 'diaphragm'. You state everything so simply, as if just because the diaphragm wants you to live, you just live. No adult nonsense about not having a choice or having inevitable circumstances. It's a matter-of-fact kinda tone. For some reason, in your first stanza here, I can't help to imagine balloons, as you talk about expansion whilst your tone remains light.
Perhaps it will help to edit this line a bit, though: "the air fights... ( I can't hold it all inside." >> I think the flow would be nicer if you wrote it like this: "the air, it fights... (I can't old it all inside."
I truly like your experiment here. You played with the relationship between the air, lungs and added a diaphragm. Your poem is easy to read through, and even though I might not grasp its full meaning, I enjoyed the journey of getting from the beginning of your poem till the end.
Thank you! I pretty much realized that I was as free as the air I breathe. Unfortunately, I also realized that even the air that I breathe is not as free as I thought it might have been. The air is free but then it becomes a slave as I breath it in, then it becomes free again as I breath it out. However, the air that I breath in, goes through a change, then I breath it out and it's different. . . It's hard to explain lol.