When as a child you look into the world
the magic of reality is there.
The world is fluid,
boundaries – weak,
cause and effect – unclear and remote…
The world is full of patterns to discover,
it’s varied and exciting to behold,
but also frightening…
and you begin
the job of organizing your impressions
in surfaces and colours,
when collected,
they can define the things;
you give them names,
the names are then collected once again
and through another level of abstraction
form into language –
so much more useful
than spots and lines,
but so much more rigid –
the magic’s almost gone…
You look again,
look carefully –
it’s bleeding through the edges,
it’s seeping in through places of confusion,
creating chaos,
giving you the option
to see new things,
to name them, change the rules,
expand the language
and the world we live in…
The spiral turns again.
Category: Poetry
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Lost in reality
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Morning
The mad eye of the sun is rising above suburban rooftops, tinting the morning fog blood-red, twisting bows of the trees – its arteries.
A frightened crow is yelling at it to stop, but it keeps coming – inexorable, implacable, indifferent;
making familiar landscape writhe out of the confines of expectations,
making commuters shudder and hunch their shoulders against the cosmic winds of uncertainty.
Breathe in deep the cold air, let the harsh silhouette imprint on your retinas
– today anything can happen. -
Red white and blue
Thinking requires freedom to question, it is a necessary prerequisite.
Hence, there is no such thing as “right thinking”.
There is either free thinking or no thinking at all.
That is why people who think always end up outside any establishment –
whatever it is attempting to establish. -
Past and Future
Our landscapes are haunted
by monuments of the past:
castles and churches –
protection from greed and fear.
New landscapes are coming,
new desolate surfaces – Moon and Mars,
inhabited by curiosity
how will they appear? -
Reflections on Plato
“To them, I said, the truth would be literally nothing but the shadows of the images.”
(Plato, The Republic)
Perception is but shadow, forsooth,
both images and thoughts – reflected glow;
You cannot tell illusion from the truth.
Choose prettiest, sit back, enjoy the show.