Summary

The text is a poignant reflection on identity, existence, and the impact of societal roles, as seen through the eyes of an individual grappling with self-awareness amidst the cacophony of life's struggles and the actions of "old, old men."

Abstract

The poem "I Don’t Know Who I Am" by Michael Ritoch delves into the existential crisis of an individual who is uncertain of their own identity and struggles to understand the identities and motives of others around them. The narrative is interwoven with vivid imagery of elderly men beating drums, symbolizing a relentless and perhaps futile pursuit of recognition and legacy. The poem conveys a sense of despair and disconnection, with the ground shaking and hearts breaking, as the old men's actions reverberate through the community. It touches on the themes of loss, violence, and the innocence of children juxtaposed against the seemingly senseless actions of the elders. The poet expresses a deep sense of longing to be heard and acknowledged, a cry that goes "Not at all" by the old men who are preoccupied with their own noise. The poem ends with a powerful image of children and mothers caught in the crossfire of this generational disconnect, leaving the reader with a haunting sense of the consequences of unheard voices and unaddressed pain.

Opinions

The poet feels unheard and misunderstood, a sentiment echoed by others in the community.
There is a critical view of the older generation's actions, which are seen as self-centered and detached from the realities of the younger generation.
The poem suggests a cycle of suffering and violence that perpetuates through generations, with children and mothers bearing the brunt.
The author implies that the pursuit of legacy by the old men comes at a significant cost to the community's well-being.
There is a sense of resignation and hopelessness in the face of societal norms and the roles imposed by tradition.
The poet finds solace in personal reflection and the potential for change, despite the overwhelming sense of confusion and despair.

I Don’t Know Who I Am

I don’t know who I am

I don’t know who they are

The sounds of old, old men beating drums again and again Each one hoping and crying, fearing the groping and the dying

One by one they scream You have not heard me Not at all Not at all

Here I am wondering Feeling old and pondering

Where I’m going

I hear them walking through the streets Marching to a particular beat

Crying You have not heard me Not at all Not at all

Do you feel the ground shaking and the little sisters’ hearts breaking The old women dying in their sleep and little children jumping in the deep

Of little children jumping in the deep

And never finding them again Not while old men count to ten

Here I am wondering Feeling old and pondering

Where I’m going Where I’m going

I don’t know who I am

I don’t know who you are

I hear the rumblings of old, old men Each one beating a broken drum Telling the world to hear them roar while drinking beer and looking dumb

The children jump in the deep and old women die in their sleep

We will never find them again not while old men play lawmen

Do you feel me now my son Do you hear the rising sun And the rumblings of old, old men broken, sad, they come undone

Each one standing before the door feeling an urge and wanting more

The children lay on their beds with pillows over tiny heads waiting for the screaming to be done while their mommas hold the final gun

I don’t know who I am

I don’t know who they are

_________________________ Michael Ritoch on his best days tries to be a poet/writer. He finds joy in his wife, two daughters, cats, one is really fat and the other is neurotic, reading philosophy written by old dead guys, and his friends. He writes about leadership, politics, pain, life, suffering, sometimes happiness, and whatever else comes to mind.