Andy Brookes

Gold Star - 35,921 Points (11 May 1954 / Macclesfield)

Battle Of Wits - Poem by Andy Brookes

Ego is the star of his own show. Oh yes Ego is decidedly, definitely, defiantly, male. He wonders as he wanders, the travelling spot on him, how ironic that my super ego steals the limelight. An alter ego. This is me time, says Ego, well all the time is me time. Ego's unleashed from the too small box to hold his overweening pride. Pride backs up Egos stiff necked hedonism. The cage lies on its side, grinning, but relieved of its burden. Can, he wonders, the universe hold him. Envy creeps out from under its stone. Not playing fair Ego stamps his pedantic foot. This is not super. Leering greenly it squashes pretension. Ego greedy to soak up his due but to lazy to come up with the goods. Envy pricks and Ego deflates. Id, you primitive, then you come out to play your anger, tantrums of lightening strikes. An oaf you blunder and crash childlike. Unable to express yourself except in the primitive.
The war is fought in no new neutral ground but the old battlefield of sense and reason. I, it seems am always the loser in this battle of wills. I am tired of the old internal arguments. So I switch off. Sleep comes as a blessed relief

Topic(s) of this poem: ego

Poet's Notes about The Poem

sometime there is such a battle inside my head

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Poem Submitted: Friday, November 13, 2015

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