(no subject)
Start of National Poetry Month. A poem a day for as long as I can keep it up.
Here's an offering recently posted by exceptindreams to start us off.
Making It Up as You Go Along
Bin Ramke
Lucretius loved Epicurus, knew
the world through him; his
meaning was clear: love as a way
of knowing, of assuming the known.
To know is to narrate.
People die trying to tell what
it was like there then. Others
die of not trying. The form of this
telling is, for example,
a trellis. A growth controlled
unpredictable within measure.
Trellis. Tri licium. Three threads.
The weaver knows
through the fingers the way worlds
hold together. Basket makers.
The shadow of a trellis is filled
against itself, against measure.
See the sun try again to
stop the movement of the rose
climbing among the woven ways.
Here's an offering recently posted by exceptindreams to start us off.
Making It Up as You Go Along
Bin Ramke
Lucretius loved Epicurus, knew
the world through him; his
meaning was clear: love as a way
of knowing, of assuming the known.
To know is to narrate.
People die trying to tell what
it was like there then. Others
die of not trying. The form of this
telling is, for example,
a trellis. A growth controlled
unpredictable within measure.
Trellis. Tri licium. Three threads.
The weaver knows
through the fingers the way worlds
hold together. Basket makers.
The shadow of a trellis is filled
against itself, against measure.
See the sun try again to
stop the movement of the rose
climbing among the woven ways.