In this globe of mud I only found fables and seas*

metapoetry_2013

*The above expression
remains unclear to this
date. It is unknown
whether the author
intended it to be strictly
a metaphor or to be
taken literally in its
full consequences.
It has spurred a string
of speculation and debate
dividing opinions
into warring camps.
Some claim that it
was written in a state
of utter stupor and therefore
must be regarded as an aberration
of the unconscious. Others
argue that that the author
has pierced through the veil
of language and has given
us direct access to
the core of meaning.
Leading figures in the field
of semiotics have given
popularity to the notion
that the expression transcends
the use of its symbols
and signifies nothing
in itself.
Research into his biography
has only added enigmas
to the puzzle of the author’s
mysterious expression.
Until further discoveries
are made between the logical,
historical, metaphysical
and aesthetic relations
and order of the words
employed,
little guidance
can be given to the reader
as to the ultimate significance
of the author’s seemingly
unintelligible statement.

21st century Poetry

3 thoughts on “In this globe of mud I only found fables and seas*

  1. Mud? the unrelenting temporal?
    slick beneath the sole,
    loose, pliable, unrelenting,
    borrowing form, shifting, indefinite,
    fraught with uncertainty
    as capsizing mire.

    Sea? the surge of humanity?
    tumultuous in discordant cacophony (reverberating claps in a storm);
    placid in collective solitude,
    such as a continent asleep with no sense of purpose, stimuli to thought.
    Reared up against its shores,
    smashed on sand and rock alike!
    eroding the levees of limitations,
    ebbing in thick tides of cadavers..
    soaked to unconsciousness – nonconsciousness – nonmemory – nonbeing.
    Replenished unreplicated, by generations of waves.

    Fables? our instruments? traditions? societies? civilizations? symbols? signs? words? math? demons? gods? invented by figments with cause nor inventor.
    Cosmic joke: natural, sentient, never-to-resolve evolutionary conundrum, biding eons till extinction, in industrial direction to holocaust?
    bound to ambiguous lives; freed to pitch-dark,
    devoid of suffering, bereft of all.

    No?

    Yes?

    Language, laughter, despair – relevant to the subjective rationale of volatile individual disposition and experience, at transitory instances, changing in reminiscence – sane/insane, irrelevant. Point is… never was.. never mattered.

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