“I yam what I yam.”
– Popeye the Sailor Man, 1929

“I am I, Don Quixote!” once
proclaimed the brave knight
to emulate him I have long strove
sans mule, though never lacking a
suitable Sancho Ponza
I have discombobulated windmills
slain foes with honor, with words

Handy with tongue lance, I am.

“I am I, Don Quixote” in dreams
I speak these words
to no one in particular
to everyone I am trying to prove
myself that I am I, me

It is not a boastful infringement
on G-d’s copyright
proclaiming – I am not – to being
‘a’ or ‘the’ great anything

I am I

dreamer, poet, chaser of parable
wearing dented armor
weathered patina of a life
lived with purpose, I suppose as
resolve frequently gave way
to happenstance-cum-opportunity

I am I, Don Quixote incarnate
in sprit, in thought
not always, I know, in deed

I am I, noble knight errant of now
I am I, who has hired, retired
many a Sancho Panza
those who always kept mules fed
lances sharp
my ego in check

I am I though not Don Quixote

I am I
husband, parent, grandparent
friend, comrade, teacher

Doer of deeds, liver of life

I am I, not Don Quixote though maybe
just once, I would like to don
the great one’s helmet, make
one final, heroic windmill charge

 

– Mark L. Lucker
© 2019
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