Thirty-first of the first month
(skies alternately sunny and foul)
I conclude my research
into the change in my perceptions
since attending the concert.
Hampered by inappropriate units
I've failed to unite
my fishhook with the moon
despite prolonged and concerted
efforts. All the nets are fouled
by my faulty perception
of depth. It's hopeless to search
for answers in this research.
The universe's seamless unity
is all my instruments perceive--
analysis, impossible. All month
I lay awake while returning waterfowl
filled the night skies with concerts
of travel music. The concert
that triggered this vain research
project fled from memory. Foul
play, composer: promise unmet!
If you've thought me a mooncalf
lately, it's a fair perception:
I've been preoccupied, perceiving
something conveyed at the concert
had been lost on me. What it meant
was the object of my research.
I struggled in vain to untie
thing from symbol: failed.
The universe itself cried foul.
It's not so easy to alter perception
and though the dramatic unities
required revelation at the concert,
I went on a fruitless search
that consumed an entire month.
I fouled up. Too much time in search
of a unit to measure the meaning
of a concert at the doors of perception.
Collection available! Knocking from Inside
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Units of Perception
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3 comments:
You have a beautiful blog site, and the poem is wonderfully contemplative. I found it a great metaphor for the frustration in finding meaning in life itself. Thank you for sharing this.
Wow. I am speechless. There is so much depth here, so much to be chewed on and considered... much more than one would have thought before reading.
Execution is marvelous, too.
Thank you.
Phew, I always find it quite difficult to read a sestina, unless I can sing it straight off the page. I love the title and the tercet best. But all power to your elbow, and well done in completing this.
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