The Book Of Disquiet

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Charmaine Burke

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They say I pretend or lie
All I write. No such thing.
It simply is that I
Feel by imagining.
I don't use the heart-string.

All that I dream or lose,
That falls short or dies on me,
Is like a terrace which looks
On another thing beyond.
It's that thing leads me on.

And so I write in the middle
Of things not next one's feet,
Free from my own muddle,
Concerned for what is not.

Charmaine Burke

Saturday, May 21, 2022

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POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM

Portuguese Poet ― Fernando Pessoa 1888 - 1935, Again and again, in both poetry and prose, Pessoa denied that he existed as any kind of distinctive individual. "I'm beginning to know myself. I don't exist, " he writes in one poem. "I'm the gap between what I'd like to be and what others have made of me.... That's me. Period."

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