Metaphysical Me

I am a metaphysical poet,
Not sure of what he writes
For nothing has a meaning
And in that I could delight?
I am not sure
Of real at all.
Instead just a malleable sea.
Of one thing
I need to be sure
And that is the existence of me.
But even that
Holds it doubts
And so what can I cast?
A fisherman’s line
To hook the real
And for me to grasp at last.
But then it
All ends in smoke
And I’m not sure of it all,
Just that there is something there
Ready to break my fall.


2 thoughts on “Metaphysical Me

  1. I have a favourite denim jacket that I still wear after more than 20 years. There’s a large, round, white button pinned to it that’s nearly as old as the jacket. Upon the button are the following words;
    “Reality is for people who lack imagination.”

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