Am, Are, or: Always

no doors in walls to Keep out fear
 just: Look and See, but no walls there...
  once structures, now Convulsing lines
   there's Is, there's Was, less timeless rhymes
    no what, no I, but only Am
     Am Flail for textures; Whisper, "damn..."
      unbearable, Am's Feels Are Galled
       Walled in, Crawling, no space at all!

nouns swiftly Twisting into verbs
 Think straight! no theater left to Be absurd
  Am Think, Think Knows, and on it Goes...
   and then: Am Start. "Do Are Suppose?"
    Are Could Aid Am by Opening...
     the... the... constantly Creaking th...ing?
      Are Know... what... Am... Am Trying to Say...
       dear, Grab the Turns and Pull that... way...

Hope Looks; Look Sees; See Steps; Step Lands-
 Am find myself in Are's... dear hands?
  hands warm... Hands firm, Hands' Form confirms
   Convulsions slow; Walls' Lines conform...
    are... You... am I... I... feared I'd die
     before I... held You one last Time...
      I... want... to say... I've come to see...
       That... You and I... We'll al...ways... be...
   

H/T @Joni

H/T @João-Maria

Notes

• I wrote this in Nov. ’20, inspired by two fellow blogger-poets: Joni & João-Maria, as you can see above. (For those who are not very familiar with Internet slang, ‘H/T’ means ‘hat tip’, kinda like – ‘I tip my hat to you, Ma’am.’) My poem includes segments of both these writers’ works:
  • From Joni, I took the line: “no doors in walls to keep out fears”.
  • From João-Maria, I took the line: “this unbearable structure of convulsing lines”.
• The combination of the lines I borrowed from these two poems led my thinking in a surreal direction, as you can see… In my mind’s eye, I was imagining what it would be like if reality started to convulse and fears could no longer be kept at bay.
• Also, I no longer recall what led me to this particular idea, but this piece was written as a personal experiment, in that I composed it, imagining a dimension in which all nouns somehow turn into verbs… Essentially, I was playing with language here, deliberately not using nouns in the poem.
• The perspective of the poem was meant to be that of somebody at death’s proverbial door, losing touch with reality, a near-death experience in which the physical world melts away.
• I’m re-posting this today for d’Verse ‘Open Link Night’… I had a lot of fun imagining and writing it. And, reading it now, some 10 months later, I find myself enjoying it and my recollections of the creative process that led to its formation.