Ontology: The Study of the Nature of Being



I was born a city

A sprawling ghetto

Bursting with immigrants

The Old screaming at the New

The New screaming right back

In angry words learned

On loading docks

Or playgrounds 


I became a school

A spiraled notebook

Filled with lined paper

Upon which day by day others

Wrote the truth I had to recite

In obese words spelled

Out in dictionaries

Or encyclopedae


I became a ship

A full`rigged Clipper

Dependent on the Wind

With deep holds to haul spices

From the old world to the new

Unsalted sailors below

Untried Ahab ahelm

All seasick prone


I became a stone

A graveyard on a hill

Where weathered bones

Whistle to no one in the breeze

And rain washes away all names

‘Til nothing at all remains

Except for ashes to be

Scattered at sea


About Peter Notehelfer

I'm a retired people person who now finds the time to watch the little details of the world without worrying about being watched by anyone . . . I live on an Island north of Seattle with my wife named Ellen, a yellow dog named McGee, a yellow cat named Gatzby, and four fine chickens . . . I read fiction, bake bread, smoke salmon, and fish whenever the weather allows . . . Oh, and yes, I try to write a poem every day simply to avoid senility!
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4 Responses to Ontology: The Study of the Nature of Being

  1. what I wouldn’t give to have Anselm and Aquinas duke it out in my living room


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