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
      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 @Joรฃo-Maria


  • I wrote this in Nov. ’20, inspired by two fellow blogger-poets: Joni & Joรฃo-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 Joรฃo-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.

60 thoughts on “Am, Are, or: Always”

  1. David,
    Extreme convulsions of emotion, thought, mirrored in words that fracture or pull apart, then, in the end, pull together. Language is a gift that you don’t waste in any sense of the word.

  2. I read it as an exercise with the absurdities of language–playing with words, which you are so good at. I imagine death’s door will leave us speechless. (K)

  3. You have such a lively creative mind – ‘nouns swiftly turning into verbs’! Wonderful!

  4. the main feelngs i get from this is fear and confuson. fera of what is coming and confusion of how it is coming. great writing. it has given my sluggish brain a good workout.

  5. Vivid imagination of “self” finding “self”, “self” acknowledging “self” and confronting the fear of death, holding hands together, at the door of death. Hope when the time comes to meet the creator, we pass through that door without fear of death or being alone.
    BTW not trying to connect dots or force a connection, but coincidentally yesterday I penned down a poem on “Death” :D. A stroke of poetic serendipity, I suppose ๐Ÿ™‚

  6. As I was reading your poem David, I felt it haunting, jerking, and intense. I was hooked immediately. It was wonderful. I am glad you took us through the process at the end. I am in awe, as usual.

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