This is just poetry. It won't save you, but it may locate you so that a rescue party can be sent out. — Dean Blehert

Sunday, January 11, 2009

Infinite Importance

Each spider's web is the center of the universe.
Our cat knows that nothing I can do is as important
as dragging a feather on the rug for her to attack.
The most degraded, most self-abasing,
obsequious, ignored people are holding
most tenaciously to the certainty
that each is the most important person
in the universe. If they hide this from us,
it's with a scathing inner "if only they knew!"

One can't always succeed, be brilliant, popular,
virtuous – but one can always be important,
covertly important. Who can argue
with infinite importance?
________________

p.s. The poem of the past few days come to you as if from Pam (my wife). They are Dean's poems. Just a snafu with the set-up.

1 comment:

forrest said...

Rather... quibbling per my usual wont:

The ultimate in self-absorption would leave no room for questions of "How important am I?"

Some people may well be comsumed by that sort of question. But a young child, for example, would probably not be. Finding himself ignored, he'd do whatever he's found to do to change that situation. But he wouldn't stop to consider, "Am I worth receiving attention?"

Or if someome's mind is utterly taken up with the minutia of his own life, the various things he's come to consider necessary, whatever song&dances he's learned to perform precisely so questions will not intrude...

If you interrupt that activity, you can expect to be met with a strong defense, whether an indignant attempt to repel your intrusion or a failure to recognize it. Because that habit must seem overwhelmingly important. As with Adam clutching the (presumably itchy) figleaf to himself, the person would be hidden behind the artifice.