Fuzzing Out Poem by Robert J Meyer

Fuzzing Out



I love those moments when everything goes fuzzy,
My Self steps out for a walk next to me as it gazes
Through my eyes, borrowed and so newly seeing.
The familiar takes on a foreign sheen,
Like a newly discovered country spread before my Self
And new understandings eclipse the same old same old.

That woman with her leashed pup running so desperately
As is she, to catch the fleeting teen from her past quickly fading.
The waiter winding out the awning over the corner café
Has a trace of stage blush just below his jawline, fugitive hopes.
Yesterday's tears revealed in the long and narrow scab
Tracing along the pigtailed child's calf as she stretches for the sky.

Then, click, I am myself again and street noise blurs the vision
Back to a flatter world, less intense and colorful, more prosaic.
Those fuzzy moments are unbidden gifts not to be retrieved at will.
They leave me dizzy and disoriented while popping my perceptions.
And sometimes I wonder which life is more real.
Am I myself or my Self?

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