Mr E he had a thought
A compound lie to get to nought
And that's because we all believe
The answers that our thoughts conceive
He thought there was no flow of time
He thought it later, but that's fine
For locally so it would look
To set the pages in the book
Now if you try to watch a clock
Within it then your time I mock
Before his time he decohered
And then the problem disappeared
Perhaps he didn't want to go
Perhaps he couldn't see it so
Perhaps he found it all too queer
If not dead true then gosub fear
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Poet, philosopher and genius. Great writing on every level.
ReplyDeleteA Piece of Cake
DeleteAnd so the nought contains the 1
Plus/minus make the system done
No march towards infinity
It's us divides reality
But seeing two, instead of half
Perception tricks (it's quite a laugh)
We force the fractions into wholes
Man's subroutines lack some controls
Though alwaysneversometimes meet
We see a future incompl ?
It's been a prevalent notion. Fallen sparks. Fragments of vessels broken at the Creation. And someday, somehow, before the end, a gathering back to home. A messenger from the Kingdom, arriving at the last moment. But I tell you there is no such message, no such home — only the millions of last moments... nothing more. Our history is an aggregate of last moments.
ReplyDeleteMultiple Hobson's Choice
ReplyDeleteWhat separates 12 Plancktimes?
Nothing
Something
Both
Neither
What's the biggest number?
Nothing
Something
Both
Neither
Kewl poem :)
ReplyDeleteMind you, I hope that time serpent never gets tempted to eat his own tail. That can distract a busy snake.
Uroborus universe, Corylus. To get here we couldn't start somewhere.
ReplyDeleteObjectively, all 'moments' exist always. Subjectively, time flows.
ReplyDeleteThis suggests a fixed bounded universe for all time. But if we sense flow through ever existing moments, we must return to them infinitely.
The Wheel of Life
ReplyDeleteOur Mystery dreamt of a sea
That turned into a library
Each borrower could take a book
But here’s the bit that he mistook
Those reads the critics liked to tout
You’d come and find a page ripped out
Why, even chapters moved elsewhere
Which left no sense in what was there
Now having only one of each
Those shelves left most tales out of reach
How soon this sea-librarian
Turned non-egalitarian
There’s really nowhere to begin
I sense it’s quite a spin we’re in
It’s inside down and upside out
With no way off the roundabout
But who’s the whirler – Time or Me
Am I the train or scenery
Can causeffects and Hope elope
To ride upon the zoetrope?
Let’s leave that ocean as a sea
And seize a possibility
The text becomes more writerly
When superwaves write poetry
For if you can still follow me
The plot must have consistency
To place a story in the verse
There’s just one human universe
And if the logic we extend
We’ll find beginning in the end
Though if we could step out the rhyme
We’d see a rock unchanged by Time
The Director's Cut
ReplyDeleteTo readdress our Mystery
With human telly-ology
I give you some small history
Of telling stories visually.
A queen walked in with regal shout -
But in the cut, instead stormed out
And whilst this edit was divine
The regulator said, "Not fine".
You see it's really quite a crime
So royally to play with Time.
Now Avid tales can all be told
By putting 'new' before the 'old',
We must maintain the shared pretense
That cameras show us 'real' events
(Though honestly no one can say
How this permits a cutaway).
With EDLs that may address
'Facts' with more moves than those of chess,
As messages in poetry
May order sense in symmetry.
To put the horse before the cart
Is no great threat to most of Art,
But to get human from a fish
Takes frequent asymmetric wish.
Since entropy forever free
Does not provide complexity -
Though often sense appears post hoc
You can't make soup before the stock -
And this is why you cannot plan
Without eggs breaking omlette an.