Poetry

As I write these words, I know not where they will lead. Whether some fine memory or some speculative imagery, all I know is that words will be written down. Then some inspiration comes to me and I write with some kind of form. A little piece of poetry. It’s structured, deep, and flows. Alas, it still does not convey all which I wanted it to. It lacks the breadth needed for the idea which underlies the words. I keep it anyways, for it has the seed of a story which will eclipse it. But still, it was the seed and it lives on in the fully formed story. It has grown in depth, breadth, complexity, length, height, and many other descriptors. Alas, it still conveys the same idea, just more fully expressed. From what comes the tree if not the seed? Thus the use of poetry. Thus, I write. Thus, a seed. Soon… a tree.

Meta

Passers by

I sit and watch all the passers by
Passing by without seeing a thing
They pass by without batting an eye
Without so much as even thinking

Once wondrous things now mundane
All things resembling one from memory
While different, its more or less the same
That tree, that car, that guy right there: me

That oak, that mazda, this tan white guy
Nothing shocks, inspires, or intrigues
All hardly noticed as they go passing by
Paying attention at all mentally fatigues

So i sit and i wonder what life do i lead?
Is it really so different from the passers by?
As i sit at my booth simply waiting to feed
On a cheese and pepperoni pizza pie…

Meta

Two

Onward down the number line!
From 1, I go to 1.5
Halfway to 2, I’m almost through
With what I was told I could not do
See, I was told I could not reach 2
By jumping halfway each time my number grew
How silly this concept now seems to me,
for the number two, I can already see!
So I jump on up to 1.75
Close enough to give a 1.875
I’m 7/8ths there, not much left
.875 roasted to my left!
Jump forward to .9375,
I did not move very far that time.
Still less, less and less each time I move
It seems I have no more room to move
But each time I jump, it seems to me,
That 2 is moving farther from me
Rapidly, I approach it now!
In exasperation I stop and say wow
For no longer am I seeming to grow
And now within I finally know
I am stuck on this number line
As the number 1.999…
And yet I remember a mathematical proof
I’m number two and here’s the proof.
X=.999…
3x=2.999…
3x-x=2.99…-x
2x=2
X=1
X+1=2
Now It seems to me i’m not quite two
But how does it seem according to you?

Meta

Oaks

I am.

I am a point.
I am a line.
I am a plane.
I am infinite space.
What am I?
I exist in 0-dimensions.
I exist in 1-dimension.
I exist in two-dimensions.
I exist in three-dimensions.
I exist in infinite dimensions.
I have nowhere to move.
I can move left or right.
I can move left, right, up, and down.
I can move left, right, up, down, forwards and backwards.
I can move in infinite directions.
People use me to define places.
People use me to count.
People use me to draw.
People exist within me.
I use.
I am indefinable.
I require two dimensions to exist.
I require three-dimensions to exist.
I require four-dimensions to exist.
I exist.
I am infinitely small.
I am infinitely long.
I am infinitely long and wide.
I am infinitely long, wide, and deep
I am infinitely infinite.
I am a point. I make up lines.
I am a line. I make up planes
I am a plane. I make up space.
I am infinite space. I make up hyperspace.
I am.

Meta

The Seed

Knowledge, the primeval seed
Picked up and stored ’til there’s need
Sometimes presented, sometimes unused
Always there, waits to be used

Until one day, understanding
The knowledge has taken root
Accidentally standing
Brand new roots quickly grow shoots

Some insight transformed knowledge
Some water got in out of sight
Seeped in the bag from some ledge
Some seeds germinate then light

Understanding growing now
Nutrients, water and light
Grows in spurts look at it now
Flowers in bloom, colors bright

Seeks out its kin, finds none here
Its flowers unfertilized
No other trees anywhere
All areas uncolonized

Then one day, pollen finds him
It floated in from within
Sitting, listening to a hymn
Not trying, not searching sin

Fertilized finally!
Look now, the first fruit appeared
And there another, quickly
Within, wisdom quite revered

Knowledge applied, a tree
Understanding lies within
Fruit signaled the death of me
With wisdom, I now begin

Meta

The Gem

Searching, searching, always searching
for some gem that can’t be found
Knowing it is, but not where it is
Knowing it never can be found
All else fails, yet gives a glint
A hint of the gem resides within
Within the pages of a book,
Within the look of a flowing brook
Within the cycles of each year
Within the rhythms of love and fear
But most of all, within the man
‘Cause there’s nothing left to scan
For when all fails nothing’s left
And no thing has passed the test
For this gem, it is no thing
Because this gem, it’s everything
Its truth resounds beyond all time
For this gem is not in time
Out of time and out of space
It just is and will always be
Some call it god, I call it me
You call it you, all call it we
With all searching done, just be
All for one and one for all
‘Cause all is one and one is all

Meta

Freedom

Waiting, waiting, waiting
For what will come
Waiting, waiting, waiting
Yet on the run
Waiting, waiting, waiting
Never stop anticipating
waiting, waiting, waiting
mentally perspiring
Waiting, waiting, waiting
Dwelling in anxiety
Waiting, waiting, waiting
Spurning all society
Waiting, waiting, waiting
Time to let it free
Living, living, living
Time to let life be

Meta

Allthereis

Nothing to see, nowhere to go,
nothing to touch, nothing to know.
Many have been but only one is,
in time beyond time so alone.
All goals reached, nothing to do,
all that’s been seems of no use.
All that is is all that there is,
having no one to share it with.
All have become all that there is
and all that there is forgot that it is.
Forgot seeing, forgot going,
forgot touching, forgot knowing.
So All that there is did as before
and thought to itself let there be more.

Meta

Winter to Winter

All around me I see trees
All these trees barren, without leaves
Long since gone, they now decay
Everywhere just white and gray
As they stand withdrawn and numb
Winter must go so Spring may come
Death seems distant as all awakes
Dormancy leaves, a dormant tree shakes
Bears, water, and trees rouse from their slumber
So long unmoving, life shows its number
Leaves take form, and flowers bloom, fruits grow seeds, and seeds grow roots
Eggs are lain, babies are born, mammals rear young, fish take form
All is well in this forest of mine, even my old yet glorious wife
Such strong legs, a lightning-quick mind, year to year we have a great time
But all is not well for many this spring
Some vibrant, young birds unable to sing
Some regal, old trees no longer upright
Our own little boy was lost in the night
Not enough food, his life withered out
Such is the way the forest weeds out
Dead leaves in clay graves
On leaves long decayed
Our fates all the same
The strong and the lame
All glorious trees
root in long dead leaves
All glorious trees
Not excluding me

Meta