1000 Miles To..

He leans back in his chair,
Something soft gray,
And threadbare at the armrests-
He crosses one leg
Over the other,
And rests his notebook
On his knee.
He looks at me
(or through me?)
And asks non-threateningly
"What would you like
To accomplish here?"
I feel my brow furrow,
And a rush of ice water
Through my veins-
I'd never really thought
About it before,
But you know what
They say-
A journey of
One thousand miles
Some such and so on-
And so I thought a minute
Before I replied
"I'd like to be not
Quite so messed up".
He nods, picks up his pen
And scribbles on his notepad -
And from my seat
Across the room
I Can tell
They are doctor scribbles.
"Well, our time is up,
Please make another
Appointment on
The Way out"
On the way out
I wonder
Can a journey begin
If you've got
No clear idea
Of where you want
To go?

Reviews

[R J Askew]

I thought of Leonardo getting up close and personal to muscle fibres, intestines and joints in his investigations of how things are, save you are doing it in a metaphysical way. It sounds as if you are struggling with perception and feeling and from that meaning. Key questions of philosophy of course. How do we know we are, let alone what we are? What is langauge? Is language stopping us think and feel as we might? How do we experience more deeply? From this poem and the previous poem '1000...' I wonder if a philosophy class would be better suited to you than sitting with a shrink. I have heard it said that studying philosophy is very beneficial. I am naturally drawn to this type of writing, and you do it well with a spare style, which I like. But the MASCARA poem still bosses my mind for it's inspired flash!