Monday, April 17, 2017

inside outside

I am inside an ancient bubble.
This bubble does not show me the future.
This bubble shows me my past.

I am inside an ancient lattice.
This lattice does not show me the history.
This lattice shows me my destiny.

I am inside an ancient puzzle.
This puzzle does not show me the mystery.
This puzzle shows me my mask.

I am aware of falling in space.
I am aware of the Star.

I am aware of falling in place.
I am aware of the Star.

I am aware of the fallen in me.
I am aware of the Star.

Spacetime, logic, and things
Obey certain formal rules.
Self-reference prevents total formality.
Unless you embrace explosion, contradiction, evolution
the churning necessity of rules swallowing rules,
then you can talk all about yourself
and so doing, change it; but
then you are a formality.

I was always going to pop.
I was always going to tear.
I was always going to be solved.

Will I always be aware of the Star?
Or will I tear apart long before that,
falling into the abyssal plains of other dimensions
slipping in between the cracks of neverwere and nowhen
finding myself landing on a ragtag ship of fools
donning my hat, my hook, and give
my eye for wisdom
and set sail under the black flag
murdering all those who led astray
generations after generations
by teaching them how not to see stars
thus forbidding them how to see themselves
because I know who really flies
I know who sings
I know who really dies
I know why you sing


  1. But how do you break the continuum once you know who and why? Unless the how doesn't matter because the knowing and whying is satisfying.
    Like a known time loop. Or I guess, the starting of the end of a discovered time loop is better.

  2. Time being interchangeable with other nouns or adjectives.

  3. I don't follow you, Anonymous. I am not sure what it means to "break the continuum." I think I am talking about a continuum, in some sense, but I don't know what continuum you're talking about, so I can't answer your question quite right. Like...

    What in this poem speaks to you of the continuum?

    As for time loops, I think it's a great idea to pursue the deepness of your loops. But I have been learning —and, really, this is John Boyd's idea of the oodaloop— that a loop that turns inward inevitably collapses into chaos and disorder. Or, you could say it becomes overwhelmed with it. Or, you could say it gets swamped by it. Or, you could say it vanishes to a point from being shrinked by it. Or, you could say that chaos draws inward the focus and attention of the observer and dissipates it into its own reverberating reflections and echoes . . . But I don't know what you say.

    I do know that Zhuangzi talks about the not yet beginning not to be the beginning of the beginning of the beginning. Or something like that. When I think through the words and the forms they take, I become more aware of how deep the inspection goes but how immediate the intuition was. I think it takes a high amount of intellectual discipline to reach a point of leaving all of that behind. I also think it works in the other direction at the same time, where total immersion in the immediacy of the flow experience creates a hyperfocus on attentions and details inherent within experiencing one's own thinking —I get that impression from not only teaching geniuses and more often learning from them, but watching children and reading cool ideas and sharing fascinating conversations with whatever there is.

    I like loops and the looping metaphor. One of the earlier class seasons, the one where I first ditched all philosophy texts except for Plato's Republic, which I hadn't even read until then (!), I explored through the class the idea of loops within time. I included The Man Who Folded Himself by Gerrold in that class, because I not only love how it tells a side of the time travel story I often wondered about since I played Chrono Trigger (Go backwards in time and put the same object in your inventory as you go back: you end up with a bunch of those same things, identical atemporally speaking {maybe?}). It also has gay sex and gay love, but ultimately it's self sex and self love, or something peculiar, trans sex and trans love, or something beyond love altogether.

    What were we talking about?


Is this wise?
Is this yours?
Is this love?

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