Certificate

I’m hunting for my birth certificate

once again

to prove that I exist.

They seem to need convincing.

Isn’t it obvious? I ask

but obviously it isn’t.

They need that slip of paper.

In fact they insist upon it.

Doubting Thomases! I think

almost inviting them to touch me.

But I hold back

almost afraid to touch myself.

What if ….?

Perhaps I’ve gone around kidding myself

all these years.

Yes, I think, that slip of paper would help.

I hunt for it furiously.

If only to convince myself.





Caravaggio's 'The Incredulity of St, Thomas' courtesy of Wikipedia

32 thoughts on “Certificate

  1. Haha. Imagine having to prove to oneself one’s own existence. That could be a sign that’s it’s time to reconsider what’s been going on. Can feel this vibe.
    Wonderful writing, John. 🙂

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  2. Hi John, I’ve lived in the most locked down city in the world for 18+ months. We are only emerging from it now … and with caution. I think every country will go through this in some fashion. 😦

    Embrace the strange times, right? 😀

    eden

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  3. it just goes to show that “i think, therefore I am” isn’t quite enough. If other people begin to suggest “i’m not” even one’s thinking gets muddled on the issue. It does make one reflect on the rules we live by. The arbitrary structures which lay so much store by pieces of paper. Explaining to a child why a piece of plastic is worth more than a coin is a strange conversation. And now bit coins? Their value is beyond my understanding

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  4. Speaking of doubting Thomases, one evening our Sunday night, church, fellowship group studied the Bible chapter about Paul in Malta. Within twenty four hours I had a view on one of my totally unrelated blogs from someone in Malta.

    I have had well over eight thousand views of my blogs. This was the only one from the tiny, island country of Malta.

    Thanks Lord. I sense that you are watching over me and have blessed my participation in that fellowship, which, continues…

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  5. Hello John. I am drinking too much tonight.
    “Did I do enough?
    Did I love enough?
    Was I kind? or was I the devil kiss?
    I asked for forgiveness and the kind lady forgave me..
    I told her, thank you sweet lady and I told her.
    I never forgave myself,
    I broke a angel heart.”
    A amazing poem my friend.

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  6. Hello Jihn; don’t be too hard on yourself; love the passion and nostalgia in your poetry; it is good to drink a little too much from time to time then ease off fora day or ywo: I know what I’m talking about 🙂

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