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the isms of a Cretan poet

Posts tagged poet

What is the point?

The tip of the finger

Or the object it infers?

The finger of the mountain

Or the blue expanse

Meeting it’s confrontation?

Neither offering reprise

Unblinking –

Staring.

Is it the sides of Pythagorus?

Repeated apex rising

Decisively aligned sides

Making thicker to thin.

Is it the singular prick

Sticking the end of the pin?

With metallic  bloody threat

Intently threading

It’s eye watching sharply

From the smoother end.

Is it the maker – game changer

Inventing  loses and wins?

Of kinetic margins made

Hurled, kicked and bent.

Is it the meaning of existence

or an insistence to question?

It the point blunt?

Ironically

Often.

Do you know some people can pop

Their eye balls out of their sockets?

They lay like pearls on oyster cheeks

Spherical smooth pocket rockets,

Bound by rubber bungee sinew

They plunge off flesh cliff face

Emaciated bulge of blubber

Back in their caves they can be placed.

But what if one was shifted over

The other side of skin?

Stretched past the nostril border

And held opposite it’s twin

Would eye see eye in split vision?

Or would brain explode due to division?

Image

Image

Image

We live in a palindrome

A world that begins and ends with:

A Question

A middle filled with miracles

And abomination

A parallel universe

With unparalleled contradiction

Punctuated

With mutually in-exclusive opponents

That need only see their oneness

To end the fight.

Progress sets a trap

Repeatedly

Progress sets a trap

Repeatedly

We live in a palindrome.