Mortaljive: The Rest is Silence

There is no still point in all the Universe, and that is the rock upon which I stand

Wednesday, September 14, 2011

The Sunlight Came in Through a Measurable Door

the sunlight came in through a measurable door
that opened on water and danced at the shore
the beams were but particles I caught in my gaze
that turned and returned in the form of great waves
it's a certain uncertainty, a past made pluperfect
for what had transpired led to different verdicts
an absolute fuzzy, a gray apparition
indeterminate forms, a quantum perdition
if "a" is not " b" that is all fine and dandy
when "a" is not "a" I reach for the brandy
for Science is not, at it's ultimate core
a place where the facts become metaphor
where meaning meanders, where evidence flounders
where logic and reason are left to sand-pounders
results must be tested! beware of rank sophistry!
and though life is elegant there's no testing poetry!
unless, to be fair, you have walked on that path
where Euclid and Escher take turns with the math
where Alice descends with animals feral
and dodges the facts laid out by olde Carroll
but I fear that I stray from the points on the compass
and lessons are tossed as we frolic and rumpus
Science, dear Science is not weakened in light
nor does it seek ridiculous fights
can you imagine, when sitting with friends
picking a conflict with Spinoza's lens?
or shaking a fist at the stars and the moon
while performing autopsies on the cat and the spoon?
subject and object, the yin and the yang
went out with Einstein and came in with a bang
but where to go now, in theory and thought?
and what is the point, when surrounded with rot?
that is the secret, that is the glory!
when faced with the lie to give lie to the story!
and seek not to win in a joust with a fool
the subject and object are not in a duel
Science is not circumscribed by the narrow
and space will but bend the straightest of arrows
subject and object, particle, wave
the ultimate truth or a game 'fore the grave?
you are a particle, you are a wave
nothing is spent for nothing is saved!
and if you are anxious, if the floor starts to give
fear not the uncertain, it's how we all live!


The above rhyme was my entry for the 2011 Charles Prize for Poetry Contest hosted by The Examning Room of Dr. Charles. From the website: "An award will be given to the writer who submits for consideration the most outstanding poem within the realm of health, science, or medicine." Deadline is September 30th, 2011.


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