Friday, November 13, 2009

CAN’T GET PAST THE LOOKING GLASS

Looking Through the Our Glass


Intending to ponder what now is

I wander in wonder of Priest’s prowess

As I sit in my seat in the shed

Shed of piles of past notes

On what “to know’ is

And shelves of books that I’ve read.


This chilly misty morning

Sparks the dog’s spirits to play

Tails up, standing stark still, until

A blink, a wink and they’re off again

One chasing the other behind the tree

The other chasing him out


Like fractals from the void of nowhere

Now here sheds snapshots like leaves

Falling on the mirror of my pond

Memory on the top

Expectation on the soaking bottom;

Joyful scene — seen future green

Violent encounter — dread future red

Informing the water with their flavor

Decaying into the past

Building the body of unborn future attitude

Gestating in that nowhere of here now

Born continuously

As the changing reflection

Of which side we think we’re on.


Like Stalagmites from drips from Stalagtites

Form pillars and puddles,

Experience builds rigid resolve

And fluid bodies of wisdom

Accumulated with age,

That product of time

Considered a crime

As are so many ways of counting:

Someone makes up a game

Then assigns blame

To ones remaining the same

Though gaining a name…


Priest won’t let me write

He wants affection

He didn’t plan it that way

Neither did I

But I kind of expected it.

Dedicated to my first literary hero, Lewis Carrol (Charles Lutwidge Dodgson)

4 comments:

Garth said...

He didn’t plan it that way
Neither did I
But I kind of expected it.

There is something in these lines that makes me prick up my (metaphysic) ears. Perhaps it is the core of the sceptic/cynic that lives within?

Yodood said...

And what sliver of skepticism might that be, oh, fellow heretic, what leap you cannot bridge, connection you cannot wedge? And in whom does that cynical prick say it dwells?

Garth said...

:D I have opten been called a cynical prick - but never so eloquently

word verification: rants

Yodood said...

So what's this sliver so metaphysical, people are dying to know?