Grids

I don't know exactly why I am going to do this. But today's theme is grids. That's right, grids.

"Another Addition Multiplied"




First poem, an old poem:

Every Pattern Upon The Tiles
------------------------------------

That angel of anger hopscotched
Upon this grid of confusion and
Madness, this radially-drawn square,
This jagged spiral only
Frustrating us and me.

For she playfully danced and spun
In every direction at once, in every
Pattern upon the tiles, on every path
Imaginable and not, tracing each chaotic
And yet periodic function, each
Sine-curve representing only polygons
And mindless (but genuine) genius lost
To its own daydreams pondered
While sleeping, while dead.

And still, even now, I am distracted.
For I too have danced upon those
Thinking mazes, found those complicated
Designs made by such a neuro-net inside,
Found them to be nothing more
Than simple, as simple as emptiness
Explained to an idiot comatose yet
Conformist, an idiot still aware
Of his focused gaze upon the scrawl.

.....................

Another old poem:

And Along This Grid
--------------------------

From along this gradient, of left to right,
Of red to violet, of beyond to within,
I told this truth
And its multiples;
I had shown the lines representing reality
To be sometimes parallel; oh, yes,
I had drawn such diagrams
Of light and of polyhedra,
Then explained the limits of ratios
Of divisors to be
In terms of pi and this summation.
I told,
I told the shadow
To move and become lit;
I told the emptiness to be all.
And along this grid
Number and color unite, and they tell,
They tell of existence and time,
And then they themselves perceive
Who/what is the observer
Of, of each photon speaking.

--------------

This Grid Barely Seen
--------------------------

Threaded within these filaments
Of damp amber and faint lepidopteran
Was what has been obvious and absent,
Is what has been of every loop returning
From faded fluids drowning our dreams
Of reality, drowning among woken spills
Resurrected if yet glued
Into a spiral tearing.
Sewn throughout our breath and its phrases
Was such relinquished sweat, were
These lipids hewn, were what shall be
Uttered and replenished, what shall be
Such virtue's perfume aghast,
What will somehow be the sworn filth
Made from the spark upon again
This grid, this plurality, barely seen.

==========

The Grid Embodies
-------------------------

The grid embodies these images of chaos. It
Amplifies the diagonality arranged into such
Rotation. It deafens my sight thoroughly. Yet
That enigma shouts, for it is timid. It screams,
For it is careless. And it mumbles its prayers,
For it is both angular and rectified.

Oh, the quilt of dreams transposes each square
Into the mass, into the coagulated molecule
Of complicated seclusion. The grid embodies
Those magnificent specks of illumination.
And seen within is meaningless enumeration,
Is imbalance finally made, finally strewn
Into the freckled blur we once encircled.

++++++++++++++

One more:

Truncated Aesthetics
-----------------------

Intrigued I am by infatuation for this very grid
Inside where divine divisibility equals itself,
Equals that which is reckoned to be
Thanklessly juxtaposed. Outlined assumptions are
Reconfigured there among us somehow to be indecipherable,
To be ousted from our conjectures, to be
The unkind earth which defines every butterfly,
Which defines every obsessive scribble.

And scribbled it is
By a dim pencil in dull light. Here
I cringe before these truncated aesthetics
So as to recite the purposes of existence, so as to
Recite again the syllables of uncertainty's impotence.
.
.
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Thanks again
Leroy Quet