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Reverie

"I saw all mirrors on earth and none of them reflected me."
Jorge Luis Borges.

I exist as dubious matter:
perhaps a bacteria in guts of a volcano,
a bacillus infernus generating sulphur and iron.
Or else, ignorant of scientific paradigms,
I’m a stubborn microbe colonizing
underbellies of continental icecaps.
Last night I dreamed that I scurried
through oil-ducts dented by rust,
and today, I fed on copper in black
cables criss crossing urban skies.

I may be infinitely small,
spied under the microscope
of an obscure apprentice
or conjectured in biochemical formulas.
Maybe a wiggle in viscera of throbbing bodies,
exiled from human murmurings.
No poem evokes me,
no passion exalts me,
no melodies sing in my ears.

Perhaps I exist in bondage to the wind,
heaped on dunes of remote deserts;
in breezes, tracing patterns under the cold moon.

I’m neither a memory of past spirits,
nor illusion, nor fantasy of a living body.
I’m not the spectre in your looking-glass.
Time refuses to multiply me
in infinite Borgesean mirrors.
I can’t duplicate myself.
I’m probably
a chink in the mirror.

Review Request (Intensity): 
I appreciate moderate constructive criticism
Review Request (Direction): 
What did you think of my title?
How was my language use?
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How does this theme appeal to you?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Is the internal logic consistent?
Last few words: 
I wrote this poem long ago, but today I read about those microbes under the ice caps emerging due to warmer climate. The pandemic seems to be related to those ancient microbes, the new theory goes. There are also microbes inside volcanos,
Editing stage: 

Comments

if it were not the deprecatory statement that Jerry thought, and simply a the recognition that there is life without thought.
That maybe we are the pinnacle of life, but not much more. I suppose that one could say that we don't think much either; as a
whole, I think we are pretty clueless to our surroundings and the effect we have on them. Nice write! ~ Geezer.
.

There is value to commenting and critique, tell us how you feel about our work.
This must be the place, 'cause there ain't no place like this place anywhere near this place.

Thank you, Jerry, for your kind comments. The "I" in this case is universal, as said by Aristotle in his Rhetorics as well as Poetics. So N can be anybody. Yes, I do mean that humankind is like a bacteria of the bad kind. All bacteria are necessary in the chain of life. We happen to be the bad 'uns.
I'm glad you like my reverie. Keep safe.

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"My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies; fairy tales of yesterday will grow but never die, I can fly, my friends.” – Freddie Mercury

author comment

You're right, Gee. I don't even think that humankind is at the pinnacle of life, considering all the harm and cruelty done. Although other animals might not reason, perhaps that's why they're less damaging than us. Reason has made us, collectively speaking, the cruelest of animals.
If we don't act as "we the people" to rid ourselves of the rich, greedy and powerful, then we're doomed. All that's happening is in "Revelations", sad to say, so that must be God's plan and I have faith that we'll understand all when we are face to face with our Creator, as Paul said.
Many may not think this way, but I have faith.

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"My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies; fairy tales of yesterday will grow but never die, I can fly, my friends.” – Freddie Mercury

author comment

WE ALL ARE BACTERIA

each one is inside our stomachs we have all sorts of bacteria good and bad tha'ts why we have light or tight stools some call it dysentery
we have cholesterol good and bad again two kinds both we need to keep our inner channels clean So you are not alone all man and human incl animal are bacteria the eyes see as the lens magnifies 500 times So in actuality we are 1/500 of our original size Ma'am what a bacterium are we.

Yes, lovedly, I saw your poem and commented on it. It's really good. Thanks for coming around to comment again. I remembered suggesting that you use "humankind" or "all beings", not man nor woman. And that humankind is the worst animal of all, mainly because we think we're reasoning, but the truth is that all our acts are through the senses, that's to say, biopsychological. My late husband wrote an essay on the impossibility for humankind to change, we're all driven by these impulses, whether we are conscious of them or not. The "mind" is just living tissue. His essay won a prize from Espasa Calpe, important publishers in Madrid.
Bye for now, keep safe.

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"My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies; fairy tales of yesterday will grow but never die, I can fly, my friends.” – Freddie Mercury

author comment

I correct myself as and when
another poem based on your views
I will post here for you
LOTS of Time I have to wait in Q

This is Heaven

Is this really doubtful
we are living
in a place so beautiful

I died in 1977 in the valley
was lying on the River's bank
then after a while
was pulled out alive
saw no heaven
but was then convinced
this is the only
Garden
where
Adam
could have
ever met
Eve
In Eden
and
produced a futuristic
marvelous heaven

Our Mummy Earth

SHALL POST IT IN STREAM AS my turn permits soonly
thanks ma'am you r kind

I would like to read your husband's views
if you can sms /pm me please

Hi again, thanks for your lovely words. I can message you, just give me time. But my husband was not an optimistic man, so I'm warning you. He predicted that humankind cannot change, in a nutshell.

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"My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies; fairy tales of yesterday will grow but never die, I can fly, my friends.” – Freddie Mercury

author comment

Hi, friends and poets, I'm so happy to tell you that this poem "Reverie" and another one "The Goatherd" will be published in Verse Virtual this coming June. It's an online place for publishing, not a forum. It's also on Facebook. Just wanted to share my nice surprise.

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"My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies; fairy tales of yesterday will grow but never die, I can fly, my friends.” – Freddie Mercury

author comment
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