Tuesday, November 1, 2011

Jim Babwe

One One

not peaceful
or wise

no more mystical
than your neighbors

you are offhand and conceited

maybe it's the resemblance to I

maybe inflated pride grows from your status
as the first two-digit prime

well whoop-de-doo

like the rest of us you are just a number


  1. from Maria Arana:

    I feel the same way when I enter a government office or doctor's office. I am just a number. 2011 has become another number and without actually digging deeper, it would remain that way.

  2. So true and so sad, I loved how you expressed this, we are all number one, (so we think) by the way we treat ourselves, and turn a blind eye at others, yet the way others treat us should be a reminder to us that to them we are...just a number

  3. from Don Kingfisher Campbell:

    Your statements are so well made, this feels like a concrete poem.

  4. Whoo Hoo! How true this is. No more personal service; give me your (account) number... "Your call is important to us," so we keep you on hold to let you know how important you are. HA! I've loved all the poems so far, but this might be my favorite, since this is the tragic way things are going - too fast, too advanced, too too....and who are you? Just give us your money, who cares who you are!

  5. I didn't like the poem at first, but it quickly grew on me. It is quite profound, its analyzing voice is fascinating, and where it goes is unexpected. I don't like the 'whoop-de-do' line, but I agree a comment was needed to make the transition.

  6. You know . . . every time I read this poem, a voice in my head tells the other voices in my head, "Wow. This deserves a Wurlitzer Prize."

  7. from Thaine Allison Jr.:

    love and hate guilt and shame balance the desperation loneliness guilt and shame