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Biography is either masked ball or epitaph. As you find me, so we are.

Wednesday, 7 March 2012

The Wheel Of Life

(on Hugh Everett’s Theory of the Universal Wave Function)

Our 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

1 comment:

  1. The truth is out there. There are patterns in everything. The Sihk demands kryptology; Yikes! I say Yikes. Full copies of all complete books can be found at KryptKEY.com Sometimes just a thought, sometimes a reply(fish?notfish?)YOU ANSWERED and this piece asks for reply. (please confirm) Touch is all about intent. See SETI. You are a really super writer!

    PS> when trying to publish this it says:Please prove you're not a robot lol!!