The sermon for Tuesday, Jul. 16, 2002 is: ah, more stupid crap
12:47 a.m.
O
PTIONAL AXIOMS FOR A PROPOSED CALCULUS OF RELATIONSHIP
5. "No point can occupy a space occupied already
by another point"
It is all illusory anyway. That I could maintain
This heart's fervour, this illusion of a dream,
Or convince you, fall in love with me, contain
All my distress and desire, defy unbending geometry.
Space is bounded. All the Earth
Remains a boundary to what may be not attained;
Disharmony is not muted by occasional shouts of mirth
Nor is what is lost outweighed by the little gained.
Even now, writing this, somehow I am forgetting
What exquisite sweetness my delight in loving you had;
My heart shuts down and cools; it seems I am letting
The dark sea of my unknowing gain the upper hand.
It becomes mere steam and physics, heat death and release
From my lonenliness, and what point is such surcease?
4. "A line
extend infinitely from one point."
Distance distends, it bends, infinity comes
To its end; and well, we're left as we were before.
How silly to imagine a quality as "friend"
And demand and hope from this imaginary number more
Than fictitious affections and thoughtfulness? My life, one
Finds, has become a series of anecdotes and incident
Succeeded by sunburst, knife, clamour and gun,
By which I mean it is mere randomness and accident.
The watching of movies and the telling of dreams
I inflated into an affection, and that into grotesque
Pavanes of romance more suited to the demesnes Of the stupid and the dull. How meaningless!
Thank god you were sane and I evaporated,
Thank god the line of days pulled you away
From this point here where I am, diminished, dissipated,
Out down the line of abandonment, unending, infinitely.
3. "If a=b and b=c,
then a=c."
This fever, my heart's long beat, in this I find you
Unremarkable remarkable, every incohering strain
Of sound you make I break apart and mend, to build a true
Statement. "If, then": oh god, that possibility flutters
Like a Parkinsonian candleflame sputtering in dark.
I wonder, I hope, I dream. Or rather
Restate this in past tense, I was off the mark,
I let my heart obscure me, I let my hope go gather
Sustenance where no proof of sustaining lay. This remains,
That you are beautiful, and you are gone, and no truth
In this world I know can contradict these geometrical pains,
Nor warp the topology of those fragmented removes.
If: if you were, then: then I was,
We both may have been illusionary, but my love was genuine.
2. "The shortest path between two
points is a straight line."
Euclid was wrong and so was I,
There is no geometry that can connect us with a line.
1. "A point may not occupy a space
occupied already by another point."
Imagine the universe as it was once upon a time.
"All at one point (cf. Calvino)", and entirely complete.
Then -- WHOOOOSH! big! BIGGER! Bang. We find
Ourselves disparate and alone, speeding through empty
Universes, aching with nostalgia for the sweet
Reunion with everyone we abandoned an eternity before.
Break out your rulers, etch lines in unlined space
To the points beyond, illusory, that correspond
To our wanting. Like in "Ferris Bueller"
(I think) when in reply to a teacher's query
To explain gravitational attraction between bodies in freefall,
Mia Sara blinks and says, "Are they in love?"
I find that answer entirely satisfactory
If not altogether in keeping with an axiomatic proof.
Are they in love? Burn every bit of geometry,
No map nor dimension will reveal ever this truth.
the Funny Show
agriculture poem
my life in the ghost of Bush
time-lapsed (part 1)
unreconciled
Images are taken without permission from the fine and trusting folks at Folk Arts of Poland; please purchase something from them. Background music stolen without permission from Epitonic, Basta Music, and just about everywhere else my unscrupulous hands could grab something. No rights reserved.
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