The Poets light but Lamps—
Themselves—go out—
The Wicks they stimulate—
If vital Light
Inhere as do the Suns—
Each Age a Lens
Disseminating their
Circumference—
Emily Dickinson
Themselves—go out—
The Wicks they stimulate—
If vital Light
Inhere as do the Suns—
Each Age a Lens
Disseminating their
Circumference—
Emily Dickinson
What atoms of Democritus—who left
few fragments, it is said,
averting fires of Plato's ponderous heft—
within my cells embed?
The ancient dust of dwarfs or giants might
thrive in the food I eat,
and when I die my orphaned atoms slight
the death I could not cheat.
But what I'll leave is particles that dance
between electric planes:
the supercharged electrophor—by chance—
is what of me remains.
Forgotten texts go in—then out—of print,
but mine I will enshroud
in particles—though not to Heaven sent—
forever in the Cloud.
placed in the imaginary garden with real toads
WOW!!! This is BRILLIANT! I especially love "what I'll leave is particles that dance".....GLORIOUS! So wonderful reading this poem, Philip. Very impressive. Wonderful form and language.
ReplyDeleteI appreciate the use of scientific words, here, to contemplate the inexplicable.. that which lies beyond human understanding. But really, I loved everything about this poem: form, imagery and above all the idea behind it.
ReplyDeleteThanks for finding my blog and following..I am trying to absorb the 'electric planes' here..after life the electricity does not end but changes with us (maybe)..Jae
ReplyDeleteoh yes! this was very well done! the theme - the particles left! very nice!
ReplyDeleteThanks for all the nice comments.
ReplyDeleteTo jaerose: The 'electric planes' image specifically came from a description of what happens between the conductive plates in a electrophoretic display (used in e-readers). Hope that helps!
The rhythm carried me through this scientific beauty of a poem. Exquisite write.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful, I too believe we go 'on' to something else as something else, even as particles of dust, we are 'something' made up of something.
ReplyDeleteYour prose is exquisite.
At an atomic scale, man creates or destroys nothing. The idea of our writing living on in an e-reader is great—until they go obsolete. Still, an interesting theme and a great write.
ReplyDeleteReading devices (e-readers, tablets, and whatever are next) will come and go, but "I" will live on as long as the Cloud.
ReplyDelete