I like the way this poem supports my view that to be aware of this incarnation we are all so lucky to have been awarded is enough, and to enjoy it's every taste and tune, good and bad, is exquisite. It's not like we have to run around claiming ownership like arrogant fools. It's life! Just ride it, there is no title deed for anything here really.
Good stuff here, friend.
This is quite mysteriously enigmatic kind of poem here. I think the message or meaning is veiled slightly in such a way that it could be interpreted (or misinterpreted) in several ways... For me, the line: "Just a product
Of my times" strikes a chord in my soul that creates an impression of self-appraisal and comparison of ability and importance in this life... that great artists and thinkers (Joyce, Shaw, Aristotle) over-shadow modern ones and make them question their significance in the great scheme of things... but in the end there is a somewhat resigned submission to existence and appreciation of "when it's good it's good"... and that is the most important experience and understanding that transcends all else during this momentary period of our effect in this world.
An intriguing piece of work and with impact beyond its immediate simplicity.