I Am

I Am who I say I Am.

I think therefore I Am.

I think a thousand ‘lectrical bolts

Turning and tumbling through tiny trips.

I Am the impulses – to be or not.

To suffer, or die? I Am death.

Death is equal; equality is free.

I Am subtextual, inhabiting thoughts

Though thoroughly threaded through

Interwoven strings, vibrating in unison.

I Am a thousand tiny dots.

Light pixellates my tiny frame

And spins it round the deep black hole

Until my life is crushed asunder

The dirt and stones and silent tones.

I Am here and I Am not,

A solid pound of cracking rock,

Rigid until unobserved.

I Am the final and the first,

Beginning last and outlasting all,

Learning love and losing life

While creeping trees enwrap spiny branches

Around my ankles and through my ears,

Poking holes out from my eyes

Elaborating all my fears

Until, upon the desert floor,

The stones are bread;

The bread’s no more.

I Am the dust, and the ash,

Forgiving my own sins –

Collecting cash.

Indulge me one more sad reflection,

A revelation without correction.

I am,




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