the speed casts upon us <br />a flash of what we have forgotten who we are <br />slaves of traditions <br />geisha of oppression <br />bars and locks, and meatless contentions, <br /> <br />just this noontime <br />everything flashes on the window of the car <br />unable to piece what all these means <br />i finish the journey <br />go straight to the usual paths <br />and when i go down and talk to the guards <br />of the gates <br />i am met with indifference <br />asking for myself to make an identification of <br />who am i <br /> <br />something too philosophical analogous to the <br />commands of the gates of Delphi <br />know thyself <br /> <br />and i remember the burning bushes <br />as i pretend to be another kind of a god, <br />and i utter the words, <br /> <br />i am what i am.<br /><br />RIC S. BASTASA<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/i-am-what-i-am-what-i-am/
