the speed casts upon us
a flash of what we have forgotten who we are
slaves of traditions
geisha of oppression
bars and locks, and meatless contentions,
just this noontime
everything flashes on the window of the car
unable to piece what all these means
i finish the journey
go straight to the usual paths
and when i go down and talk to the guards
of the gates
i am met with indifference
asking for myself to make an identification of
who am i
something too philosophical analogous to the
commands of the gates of Delphi
know thyself
and i remember the burning bushes
as i pretend to be another kind of a god,
and i utter the words,
i am what i am.
RIC S. BASTASA
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/i-am-what-i-am-what-i-am/
