Saturday, December 26, 2015

At Times The Rain Gods Drive Us Mad ...

Diana gifted me with The Shorter Oxford English Dictionary.
I opened the first volume randomly and my eye lit upon:

"Jornada ... An act of a play; a book or canto of a poem. 2. In Mexico etc.: a day's journey; spec. one across a waterless dessert tract with no place to halt."
A more concisely perfect description of many second acts has seldom been penned.

Tuesday, October 06, 2015

Quandary #326

As beauty resides in the beholder's eye, so logic belongs to whoever defines its terms.
Your reasons are not mine.
Hence the difficulty of persuading by "reasoned argument."
Logic is a game of mathematics. Follow its rules and there is no escape. The conclusion arises from the premise.
Ventilate the game with reality -- which includes such messy things as passion -- and all changes. Surprising information appears and certainty is shaken beyond its foundation.
Not to worry -- it is all argy-bargy in the end.

Friday, March 20, 2015

So Far As

Stars drew our eyes until we saw patterns palpable to all.
Stars so far as we could see until we learned to see farther.
Universes! They, too, took form and pattern, so far as we could see.
Now the cosmos awaits our puny wit to find plurality so far as we can see.

So near can we see, we split neutron from proton with a mighty flash and bang
To announce, We Master!, with lots of people killed and stuff blown up,
Then we looked again and, so near as we can see, there's finer yet to see.
Some claim, so near can they see, the scale changes yet again. Many times.

Look near or far the pattern repeats: A fractal universe with no ends.
The creation ever iterates; we part of it and it all of us.
The old man hums a tune into his brass spittoon
Cocks an eye at the old moon and allows a point or two for the metaphor.
But shakes his head at my hopes of passing. Too, too many missed chances,
too few noble deeds, so little simple honesty, so near and far as he has seen.


Thursday, February 12, 2015

Last Night I Committed Poetry – I Think.

Like the vivid hue
Of a young man's blue shirt,
Another's death engulfs me.
And, as promised, diminishes me.
Yet, after ebb,
I return to myself
a little closer