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Array ( [sid] => 38253 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Wise Beyond My Skin [time] => 2004-03-11 13:46:22 [hometext] => i don't need to be seventy-three to know what i'm talking about. [bodytext] => Look, I know I'm just nineteen.
Yeah, my skin's still tight
over my face and
it still clings to my hands
just like any nineteen year old skin does.
No, I haven't even started
thinking about my metabolism yet.

But don't use my age
against me
to assume that I'm naive.

I'm not the "usual" American teenage ****up.
I am
wise beyond my skin.
I take refuge in the truth,
dhammam saranam gocchami.
To quote my man Kerouac

I know that the sky is blue
just because I want to know why.

Sometimes I spend a day mulling over my existence.
But I guess there's no need for that

since none of this exists anyway.

This pen doesn't exist
without my mind.
I feel its shape and texture.
I see that it is red.
I see the inkblood bleeding my thoughts onto this
neatly folded tree.

But without my mind, it's nil.
Its feeling
its color
its ink
its being
its existence
obsolete.
My mind is The Creator.
My mind,
she is God.

I am wisdom, I am foolishness.
I am truth, I am deceit.
I am peace, I am war.
I am love, I am hate.
I am you, I am me.
I am him. I am her.
I am.
Nineteen. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 229 [topic] => 21 [informant] => Magnolia [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Lifepoems )
Wise Beyond My Skin

Contributed by Magnolia on Thursday, 11th March 2004 @ 01:46:22 PM in AEST
Topic: Lifepoems



Look, I know I'm just nineteen.
Yeah, my skin's still tight
over my face and
it still clings to my hands
just like any nineteen year old skin does.
No, I haven't even started
thinking about my metabolism yet.

But don't use my age
against me
to assume that I'm naive.

I'm not the "usual" American teenage ****up.
I am
wise beyond my skin.
I take refuge in the truth,
dhammam saranam gocchami.
To quote my man Kerouac

I know that the sky is blue
just because I want to know why.

Sometimes I spend a day mulling over my existence.
But I guess there's no need for that

since none of this exists anyway.

This pen doesn't exist
without my mind.
I feel its shape and texture.
I see that it is red.
I see the inkblood bleeding my thoughts onto this
neatly folded tree.

But without my mind, it's nil.
Its feeling
its color
its ink
its being
its existence
obsolete.
My mind is The Creator.
My mind,
she is God.

I am wisdom, I am foolishness.
I am truth, I am deceit.
I am peace, I am war.
I am love, I am hate.
I am you, I am me.
I am him. I am her.
I am.
Nineteen.




Copyright © Magnolia ... [ 2004-03-11 13:46:22]
(Date/Time posted on site)





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Re: Wise Beyond My Skin (User Rating: 1 )
by Remy on Thursday, 11th March 2004 @ 03:18:04 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)
almost sounds like you jkust turned 19... but maybe people giving you one-for on your age rubs you the wrong way... good write, i love the confidence in it! ;0)
~Aemy~




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