Copyright © 2010 Ernest Bloom.
We've ventured far into that foreign land
That lies beyond the perimeter of words, where
The dazzle and sizzle and razzamatazz of neurotransmitters
Prompts wondrous strange flowers to bloom, where
Time's unpeeled and rivers enter oceans, violent
In their meniscal conflicts. Madness' abyss
Opens up unexpectedly at our feet, and we must say
(As all artists must say when eternity
Yawns its bejeweled maw at them):
Alleluia! The
Beginning times are near.
That Alleluia bit conjures for me Leo Cohen, vague connection but if you look hard all is connected by some intricate unscrutinized sleight-of-hand. I donnow who that 'we' implies but it is not my privilege to belong to that elite group, for all post-Einsteinian physics, what is time but a vague equation to the everyman of science? Do you know that saying, that something's in the back of your head? Well, this is how I feel about this concealed post-linguistic world of 'wondrous strange flowers to bloom' etc. I can sense it, almost touch it, taste it, smell it, but there's a miniscule border that casts shadow on all blissed eternity. Is there any beginning or end of time since the universe is infinite? Ah, my brain's too tired to think, overloaded by uncounted masses of meaningless trivia.
ReplyDelete"The beginning times are near." Whoa. The tone of this final line is so chilling! It makes me think of Revelations :P.
ReplyDelete