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Tag: Amergin

Anti-Amergin: chant

I am not just my name and sign,
I am not just my sex,
I am not who I voted for,
I am not where I’m from,
I am not just the work I do,
I am not just a son,
I am not from a somewhere else,
I am not just like you,
I am not where I went to school,
I am not what you taught me,
I am not playing on your team,
I am not your opponent,
I am not a mind or body suit,
I am not here forever,
I am not my integrity,
I am not my backstory,
I am not who I seem to you,
I am not a somebody,
I am not a celebrity,
I am not educated,
I am not old and wise and gray,
I am not mid-way through it,
I am not a child prodigy,
I am not a late bloomer,
I am not something that you’ve heard,
I am not just my language,
I am not some well-hidden lamp,
I am not a state secret,
I am not female, am not male,
I am not someone’s father,
I am not better off than you,
I am not part of something,
I am not one of your old friends,
I am not a religion,
I am not what you label me,
I am not through with living.

Who claims to know me, as I am?
Who thinks their claims control me?
Who else pretends to give a damn?
Who wants their cage to hold me?

What does the world want me to be?
Who out there claims to get me?
What good do all these labels do,
When I am neti, neti?

29 APR 2025

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Reflections of a Twentieth Century Bard

After the “Song of Amergin”

I have been a fly on the wall of a corporate meeting
I have been a child lost in snow that drifted roof high
I have been a broke-winged bird, flightless through winter
I have been a prisoner in some Gothic dungeon
I have been a supporter of lost, hopeless causes
I have been a wandering fool, aimless and goal-less
I have been a prodigal son for whom died the fatted calves
I have been a homeless man in cities of great wealth.

I have been a harsh word whispered in a darkened alley
I have been a silver slick carp, no good for the fry pan
I have been a glee-man singer for spare change and train fare
I have been a ragged voice crying in the wildness
I have been a drowsy student of life’s strange instructors
I have been a trust fund baby given deceptive means
I have been a reed in the wind blown aside by gale force
I have been a poet stoned with drunk and swollen words.

I have been a teacher of some useful knowledge
I have been a night janitor in the halls of justice
I have been a poor cross-maker, Pharisee and martyr
I have been a young soldier, grown old in the battle
I have been a raging fire made from drenched matches
I have been a quick perceptor without a portfolio
I have been a childhood plowman, tiller of the earth
I have been a knowing victim of victimless crime.

I have been a cold white speck in a snowfall blizzard
I have been a big, loud fish in an empty trout pond
I have been a moving current and the dry of drought
I have been a helpful force to some creative light
I have been a drifting cloud on the face of the sun
I have been a changeling spirit of the moonless night
I have been a watcher of winds that shape the noon sky
I have been a friend of the trees that breathe the earth’s air.

Who, more than I, can claim to have been loved?
Who, having also being lost, can with more conviction believe themselves found?

Who else, having for so long lived under a curse of their own making, has been more blessed?

29 MAR 2000

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