from self-reliance

within a dimly-lit arena,
I read that Emerson wrote
“Where is the man, AND his virtues?”

causing I to relate
how sheltered he must have been
never seeing
that man is virtue, trying to survive
and I wonder if he would’ve looked down on I...

as we are a new breed

and as I read a head
I see

“My life is for itself,
and not for a spectacle.”

reminding I of the
medial disease
and his forthought
on the curse of a new millenium

one can know so much
and at the same time so little

I feel like this sometimes
as I wonder how sheltered me is
and I wouldn’t know
because there are some things
nobody can see about themselves

and there are the kind,
that time alone serves
as the only way, overthink

and others, whom stay within
the crowd, ignoring

and we all are good
we all are bad
never realizing
what we never had

Sitting alone in the crowded bar and
reading ahead otra vez,
I realize he feels similar

“the great man is he who,
in the midst of the crowd
keeps with perfect sweetness,
the independence of solitude.”



©2000 by Yosh