By understanding the fundamentals of ambiguity the technologist of the obscure harnesses the power to create suitable artifacts (not to be confused with anti-facts) that encrypt the purity of communication into a meshwork of impenetrable significations. This technology, having being exploited by philosophers for ages, has surreptitiously leaked out and fallen into the hands of the architects, engineers and builders of unearthly images and unintelligible utterances, a group of formidable sophists that work relentlessly in the advancement of their art. Commonly grouped together under the heading of ‘Poets’, these deserters of lucidity utilize a wide array of techniques to camouflage their superficiality and produce, to all appearances, objects of intelligence. Their methods include the avoidance of the vernacular, the exploitation of the thesaurus, and the occasional usage of logatomes. This alchemy of language can reach such degree of high abstraction that the reader can momentarily forget the existence of the earth. Such manipulation of perception, while not yet proven to be lethal, can lead to a long-lasting veneration for the incomprehensible. While there might be some value in fiddling with obscurity, it is highly unlikely that straightforward communication will ever be supplanted by the monstrous impenetrability of the ambiguous.
You who are born from the edge,
you that will taste the lines
of the streams of light
reflected on your tongue.
You whose sigh will
feel like home
because the mouth is
an exhausted chimney.
You who will not yet understand
an erotic moon on gray waters,
you whose body is as warm
as the concept of sleep.
You who will soon scratch the air
with savage fingers.
And I don’t know why.
I can only leave you
a beautiful ambiguity,
a map to the beginning.
The future does not care for poetry or ambiguity.
It thrives in pristine clear expressions of thought and action.
It despises the vagueness of unnatural associations.
The sinking sound
the crest of the red suppose
the eternal system
elected a song as carriage
of its power.
Grandiloquent expressions as the above will be ridiculed.
The concrete matter-of-fact will be the only subject of interest.
Poetry will slowly fade out of view as did the rotary dial.
The world of fact will flourish.
Doubt will dissipate, they psyche will be freed of contradiction.
In the future, the ex-poet will turn towards the objective.
Like a lion on a gazelle.
These are some of the last unruly poems to emerge.
The last bones to chew.
Those rotten truths and the atrophy of written words
life is outside the inferno of cadaverous literature
the ever-increasing waste of past thoughts
attempting impossible resurrections
free the world from fossilization
allow it to burn and dismiss its ashes
our best experiences are never contained
they roam beyond the frontiers of definition
close those covers of inky nothingness
step into the bare unadulterated flux
mend with the unknown
Flee from cages of routine and metropolitan nonsense
recognize the hollow of every day
reject the veil of prospects and careers:
usurpers of wonder and transformation
children of nowhere
creators of ambiguity
exorcise the daemons of logic
celebrate your insanity!
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