I am not Me
a poem by  
  keith  o'connor
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When in my creative mode of writing or painting it sometimes feels as though I just watch as the words come into my head or my arm moves in strange directions. This poem struggles with the idea that each of us is a complex that cannot be reduced to the singular "I" or "me" .
. philosophy in poetic format 

I am not Me 

I will write a poem 
I start by waiting 
waiting for the sound 
of the voice in my head 
sometimes it speaks quickly 
sometimes it speaks slowly 
sometimes it speaks silence 
who is this voice 
is this an - other me 
this voice in my head 
the English language 
has declared the word 
to be singular 
but  -  that cannot be 
I remember as an infant 
being consciously aware 
no words did I have then 
just feeling memories 
of touch 
of sound 
of taste   
of smell  
of seeing 
but now words I attach 
to those feeling memories 
of gurgling  
of pressure  
of spreading warmth 
of cold air 
of hugging other warm skin 
of other beating heart 
of other bone and flesh 
of seeing the light 
yes I remember 
my infant body feelings 
but - where are they kept 
in the mirror my body I see 
is that me 
is my body me 
if - my body is me  
who am I 
my body and I  
make two not one 
who is that voice 
that voice I hear in my head 
it comes from where 
if I am not one - who is aware 
if I am not two - who is body 
If  I am not three - who is voice 
yet - I - am 
then - I am all - three 
if I am all three - then 
I am not me 

Keith  O'Connor 
Ottawa  Canada 
aug  15  2001 



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