Local Contexts

 

Who

could be absent?

 

Everyone

could be absent!

 

We are shadows

in each other's peripheries

 

voices in a sea of people

 

stories we tell

 

agreements we break

 

marriages we enter

 

keys we touch

 

sacraments we present

 

depictions we inflict

 

We are a mishmash of local contexts

drifting in the wind,

driven by the crisis of comradeship

and the randomness of probability

 

I have no reason

to believe a single word I utter

 

Words are sounds, pressure changes

in the atmosphere,

which – in brains – create electric impulses

entrusted with ”meaning”, ”significance”,

fading in a simple migraine aura;

totally lost in a major stroke

 

Brains are like termite mounds

on the savanna,

abandoned wasp nests in dusty barns

or castle silhouettes in medieval tales

 

I place no, or little

trust in myself

 





Poetry by Ingvar Loco Nordin The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 120 times
Written on 2023-12-04 at 10:47

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Sameen The PoetBay support member heart!
I feel like this is two different poems smushed into one.

So, from the start to until this line: and the randomness of probability

reads like one poem, and then all that comes after reads like another.

Independently, they are quite good, especially the first one.

Altogether though, I don't know. They leave me wanting.
2023-12-07


Griffonner The PoetBay support member heart!
Your poem made me think that we can at least trust the truthfulness of our shadows... for we see them when there is light. If we live in the dark we might never know what a shadow was. Nevertheless, the word, the name, the concept, exists with or without us. Bleak thinking for a Monday, Ingvar. May the sun shine on your skitracks.
Blessings, Allen
2023-12-04