No man is an island
so does it matter
if we are all part
of a computer game
played on MountOlympus?
I think. Therefore I am
a solipsistic paranoid
with déjà vu, who’s
seen it all , seen it all,
seen it all before.
Is the steak you’re eating real?
Perhaps the real you
is plugged into a mother board
in an alien attic somewhere,
salivating.
And watch out for agents.
My mother knows
what I’m thinking before I do.
Was it my decision or hers
to write this?
Two solipsistics on the same day… wow! This is super, Martin.
Well, there’s a word for my ‘new words’ book, solipsistic! I can imagine using it as an expletive next time I cut my finger opening a tin of beans!
Very thought provoking poem. I remember watching the 1960s version of Jason and the Argonauts where the gods played a game of chess up in the clouds on Mount Olympus, moving Jason and his ship and confronting him with all manner of monsters! I often imagine them up there, sliding something awful over for me to deal with, just when I thought I was handling everything!
Ooh Martin – I never know when you are taking the **** – that’s is what I like about your poetry. “No man is an island” – are you allowed to use cliches as a proper poet? I find this poem interesting in the way it goes from me to you to me to you … a technique that works well to reel the reader in. Spill the beans Martin and explain what triggered all of this. Did you watch the same film as Sarah? I think I remember watching it – back in the days when you could see the joins in the technology.