I THINK

I THINK, LIKE, THEREFORE, OH MY GOD MAYBE

I dreamt a dream

And in that dream

I dreamt that I was dreaming

A dream that all that was my dream

Was only elaborate seeming.

Elaborate seeming, then I thought,

Is in its own way real

So a dream in a dream

In a dream in a dream

Needn't make me feel

As though the world's been stolen

And all that exists is me.

But I do now think that I need to rethink

What I think that I smell, hear, taste, touch, and see.

But even if the deal, is that it's me that's real

This me contains the objects of thought;

And though I think them heavy and think them tall

While in reality maybe they're not,

I cannot deny that "they" are a they

So that more than just "I" exist

But it may be that physical things are not

And if not, could they really be missed?

It seems kind of silly to use the word "really"

And even more so, to talk of what's not.

If Plato's right, I knew this last night

And this morning I simply forgot.

But this morning, and yesterday, and every tomorrow

May be somewhat of my own devising

And writing down thoughts I wonder if I'm not

A part of what is, then revising.

"You're dreaming," you say,

Or is it me saying that,

And me that is with me agreeing.

"Eyes" open wide, I cannot decide

Though I think that I finally am seeing

Why Descartes suggested to study this once

And forever remember that you're not a dunce

When in the future you're haunted by doubt

And it feels as though there's no way out

The question to ask is did you think it all through

And if yes, then the doubts won't long bother you

Since life's not a dream if there's a good God.

Oh why'd I say that? See now there's the rub---

Somebody go fetch me Diogenes' tub

Somebody? Did I say somebody? I'd better say "me."

Sometimes philosophy breeds insecurity.

But not about myself; only about you

And I guess that's not bad, since I can then view

Everything in experience with an eye of wonder

And my list of false confidences rip asunder.

It's not easy to see what I see

And notice the judgments I'm making

But the more that I resist tempting hierarchy

The less I feel I am faking

even what may be a dream.

Irvine