by Dee Newman
It seems the time has come to reminisce.
In spite of my intelligence or lack
There of, I stand unarmed and defenseless
With, perhaps, no one to cover my back.
My life was not determined by a twist
Of fate, despite what you may believe.
Though agile, I’m not a contortionist.
I assure you, there’s nothing up my sleeve.
I stand by the choices of my designs;
I see no need to forsake them now.
Besides, without them there would be no lines
Etched upon this page, or upon my brow.
I’ve stood amid the ruins of ancient cities,
Walked the great divide beneath the blue,
Swam naked in many of her moonlit seas
From here to the plains of Chengdu.
It’s true, I have felt my share of heartbreak,
Like you, known what it is to be “Bushwacked.”
But, you will never hear me bellyache
About how the cards were dealt or stacked.
As the final stages of life draw nigh,
What remains beyond all comprehension
Is why we’re merely born to live and die
Within a contemptuous dimension.
Granted, it seems bizarre that we live
In a pointless, meaningless universe,
That we must endure an offensive
Onslaught without reward seems perverse.
And yet, I am bent over with laughter
By those who believe that there’s a portal
Through which they may reach some heavenly hereafter
To escape being finite and mortal.
As for me, at the closing of the lid,
Death most assuredly will have the last word
On the ultimate and final question – Did
I courageously confront the Absurd?