The Poem

"The poem reveals itself only to the ignorant man."
 - Wallace Stevens



This world and its machinations
Can enclose one in a net
When viewed through the haze
Of symbols' castrations.

Get thee behind me, oh alphabet impure!
You screw up the now, and that's fer damn sure.

Trees, birds and fishes speak quite bloody clear
Yet find no need for these A-B-and-C-ers.

Seek ignorance of symbols to send bliss within
Lose the weight of labels and fly high once again.

Name not, lest ye be blinded, for
To see the world, leave the word behind.


20 minutes. It's good to time how long you spend on one-a these silly things.
Or maybe not. Whatever . . . 20 minutes.

A question for the learned in this stuff . . .
Is it best to include and count the time it takes to count the time it took?
I'll get back to ya on that. Research aplenty and outside input needed here!

And also, a quick note to all and any tossers using this blog as a teaching aide in some distant uni poetics class. Have at 'er, have some fun with the silliness of our pastime presented, and next time around do me a solid, eh . . . At least have the decency to respond when I send you an email stating how happy I am the favor was of some use. Academia, eh. The height that you-know-the-word can be stacked is always impressive! We could put a man or five on Mars via-climbing if that pile weren't so slick and slippery.