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Array
(
[sid] => 96392
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => an exercise in language
[time] => 2005-05-31 15:57:07
[hometext] => I've been spending a lot of my time on
[bodytext] => Given that "there is nothing you can do that can't be done", a vast list of words can describe the next sensation, and any would coordinate with the swiftly tilting explanation of this poem, which leaves the slight imprint of finger tips and questions. As always, questions define their positions with curved lines and periods, dots like ( . ) that when positioned in particular positions, distincly alter the residual effects of sentences, spoken or written. [This is a question (?)] This poem is a question, directed towards any living or non living entity that cares to inquire into the possibilities of questions or solutions. The multitude of questions exist within the mind's potential to perceive, to critically analyze, and most importantly to identify, and thus to care, i.e. to show concern for the well being of that which is identified, to stop and ponder, to question and validate that which is important. (Validating.....throw away this poem) Why must everything be so precisely calculated? Why must 2 2=4, and it must, for anyone to acknowledge any significant possibilities, or perhaps to acknowledge even more questions that could illuminate even more calculations, geometric equations or algebreic solutions. But has anyone considered the possibility that what is perceived to be an expression of precision is actually an expression of chaoss, or that what is "chaotic" is actually "preicse" and in the end no matter how insignificant any act is, could be the reason for the creation of the universe, and the stars, rotating around billions of suns, which are all being pulled by the same force of gravity, that centers us to the earth and propells our planet in precise accordance with other planets, and moons, around our sun, that keeps us from drifting off into outer space, where we might discover the outer limits of what can be imagined. Deeper mysteries exist within the imagination and within time, where everything that can be done, is done, where we will all find one day, the door to infinite questions, and solutions, in infinite forms, beyond any preconceived exact detail or scientific conclusion, which can only be identified as chaotically beautiful, precisely. [comments] => 3 [counter] => 357 [topic] => 43 [informant] => zenmind [notes] => To maintain the correct comment to poem ratio, please do not comment on your own work. Commenting on your own work does not ensure your reply will be seen. Your comments on this posting have been removed. You can send a private message if you wish to thank someone or respond to them. You can post in the forums if you want to promote your myspace page. Thank you. Moderator_18 [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => oops )
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