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.