Literature

First Place - All I Could Want to Be by John Trytten

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All I Could Want To Be 

“I matter because...” 

... 

My mind turns to fuzz... 

... 

At night, some rest, and others sleep, 

But me, my thoughts I tend to keep, 

Hammering away, the same as the day. 

Sound of drums, fitting thrums. 

Yes, flaunting, taunting, haunting, daunting, Dreams of mine or maybe not. 

The harshful climbs and shovely winds- 

... 

Again 

... 

Outside my window, there is a world, 

Inside my window, I lay furled. 

Staring twenty degrees down and over the garden wall. I lean so hard, yet I fear to fall. Across from me, each night I see: 

Alight, a lamp, another window. 

The rest of that street’s a rather dim row.

This beacon it beckons, 

When the city goes to rest, 

So late it's the morning, 

Chasing the moon, I guess. 

But there’s nothing to see, 

No silhouettes dance, 

Unity in severance, 

Makes this ‘nighttime romance.’ 

So I’ll while away the waking night: Wonder is no crutch. 

I would never try to find its source, It matters far too much. 

A stranger across, an albatross, Behind a window pane. 

A fitting refuge? A doubled recluse? To hide beyond some pain? 

Huh. 

The only other light, in the night so dim, Oh I wonder, do I matter to them? ... 

The light isn't always on. 

It’s off tonight. 

...

So alright, I’ll write. 

If life be a book, 

Are the pages in spite? 

Who was ever asked to be born, 

Whatsoever their plight? 

Why do I stare at the clouds at night? ... 

I wonder if I matter. 

Or, do I matter ‘cause I wonder. In the end, am I some consciousness, Caught up in a foggy bliss? 

Questions, questions haunt my mind. It’s not that the answer is hard to find, It’s just easier to walk blind. ... 

pent up... stuff swirls around 

trapped, of course, by the locked door the matter stuck here, coagulating the matter struck here, i have no idea it’s a, it’s a pitter-patter 

of some sort of splitting splatter that may have been a search for meaning or just a hope of one 

Oh I can hear the drums! 

I hope the morning comes! 

Or sends me quietly in my sleep... ---

No more fumes of gloom trapped in my room, Don’t shun the sun if you want things done. 

I matter because I choose to, 

And that’s what you have to see. 

I matter because I think so, 

And that’s all I could want to be. 

I matter because I want what I do, 

I matter because I’m proud to be me. 

So, I’ll rely on myself for my productivity. They say pride is a sin, but it begets a proclivity. In this confusing world, we must afford ourselves an identity. 

Of course, this is no indictment of societal ties that bind, 

But looking to others for self-worth isn’t healthy, you’ll find. 

Turn to yourself to see why you matter, 

Conquer your mind, and ghosts will scatter. Then you can tell the world, and any who oppose you, Yes, I matter, because I chose to. 

It matters to me, and that’s all I could want to be.