Resembling All the Old Thinking
If you've been reading the comments, this work by James Galvin will make contextual sense. If you haven't been reading the comments, it's still a damn fine poem:
THE UNCERTAINTY PRINCIPLE
The real is not what happens but what is
About to happen,
Whatever you were dying for before.
Knowing is just feeling
With a sense of direction, and
Thinking tags after like a string of tin cans
Annoying everyone.
Something was about to happen.
Really.
My mother said I’d never make it back
In time by the way she looked at me forever.
She wasn’t thinking.
I pledge allegiance to her eyes,
Don’t envy me.
When you reach the North Pole the idea of north
Becomes unrealized, free.
Which north was true?
Which south was home?
What is it you are dying for?
Only the stars, which do not know, can tell,
Only the stars, which do not know, can tell.
THE UNCERTAINTY PRINCIPLE
The real is not what happens but what is
About to happen,
Whatever you were dying for before.
Knowing is just feeling
With a sense of direction, and
Thinking tags after like a string of tin cans
Annoying everyone.
Something was about to happen.
Really.
My mother said I’d never make it back
In time by the way she looked at me forever.
She wasn’t thinking.
I pledge allegiance to her eyes,
Don’t envy me.
When you reach the North Pole the idea of north
Becomes unrealized, free.
Which north was true?
Which south was home?
What is it you are dying for?
Only the stars, which do not know, can tell,
Only the stars, which do not know, can tell.
Labels: a certain redundancy, poetry of all things, uncertainty
posted by George at 4:16 PM
5 Comments:
I'm not one to rhyme, but:
Once, checking these things for promotion and tenure, I came upon this, which seems appropriate here (and ties us together in so so many ways, George, so we may not want to share this with our Amys). I enjoyed Galvin's poem, so I'm glad I wrote mine before I read his, or I wouldn't have written mine.
http://www.upenn.edu/nso/prp/copenhagen/articles/poetry.html
(No Turley, as I will await its safe arrival in VD. That earthy Pixley wine helped me compose that madness.)
Marty, good thing our Amys don't read this blog...
Shoot.
Your poem is fine, too. After all, if the uncertainty principle is true, then we can't know both the locaton and the spped of two poems about it at the same time.
Oh, they read the blogs. Just not the comments, I hope.
This is the random word (?) I had to type to post this:
hawcunhy
I like it, but it sounds dirty. Amys?
Why is there a "but" in your penultimate sentence, Marty? Seems like a good spot for "because."
I read the comments, I just don't follow the links.
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