Experimenting with Poetry:

I was experimenting with some poetry based on some early writing I was doing. This is just a draft. I like poetry, but I don't really consider myself talented in anything other than interpretation of it. Still, it's fun and therapeutic to play around with. I enjoy poetry and lyrics most when they tell a story, and the more thought-out the better. This is my attempt at doing a philosophy of memory/mind poem.

 
I dreamed I was born in a dream

 
All I know about before, is what I can remember
But what if I remember wrong? What if it's not true?
Maybe I was born five minutes ago…
With memories implanted new?
Just five minutes ago!
Just imagine if it were true…


 
There is no spoon, just five minutes ago
Because it might be false, it might be fake
Corrupted by our fallible mind,
or corrupted by an outside force!
Who says there IS a spoon-
Just five minutes ago..
And they assert it is not fake

 
My name is Phaedrus
And for all I know,
I was born just five minutes ago

 
But I have this wishful idea
That I was born and existed longer
To have aged!
To have lived more!
Than just five minutes ago…
In a memory that is fake
I say "they're mine!" My memories!
But this is a mistake

 
I am unsure of myself,
because I woke up JUST now
In a world I wasn't sure I recognized.
A world that might be fake…
Was I kidnapped?
Did I escape?
How did I get to THIS place?
This "best of all possible worlds" - just now
Where the good die young and in unjust ways,
While the old and rich monopolies smile…
Ruling viciously in their inhuman ways!

 
The plutocracy is going well they say
But I'm not that sure
Why? Because!
For all I know I was born just five minutes ago,
Or was it ten?

 
Perhaps I was born this very second!
and someone else just wrote that line!
This is all just an illusion,
Everything is fine, 
but it seems...

 
Oh! My delusion is becoming great!
With all of my plans
My BIG GREAT plans of state!
Yes! I become insane and commiserate,
The departed and the sad -
memories I once thought I had
- Iron clad!
I'd rule the wicked and the bad!
Just prevail, though the heavens fall!
In my dream in which I hate..
It kind of makes me sad.

 
-just five minutes ago. Or was it ten?
Perhaps I'm in a loony bin!
And all of this is fake?
How long was it before I discovered
Myself in this grand mistake?

 
Why am I rhyming?
What possible task is this?
To escape free will upon the brow
Of literary bliss…
And how could it come to this?
This skeptical abyss,
Of literary bliss - in which I kiss...
I kiss at the. The romantic hollowness!
A skeptical abyss! Upon a selfish kiss.

 
I was born just five minutes ago - yesterday
And I was born into tomorrow.
And for all its predicted sorrow?
I was born just one second ago.
Perhaps this too is a lie,
I don't exist on paper,
Or in reflective eyes….

 
I was dreamed not born..
Just THIS moment ago
I don't own the dream,
And if I don't own the dream I wasn't born just then
I was dreamed not born
Just a minute or two ago…
And I don't own the dream

 
I was dreamed just a while ago,
In a world I'll just have to borrow
I have all sorts of ideas I do not know are mine
Full of hope and full of sorrow
That I seem to be unique,
That I have a purpose being dreamed?

 
My name is Phaedrus, and I just woke up,
Dreaming I was born inside a dream...