Poetry – A Tessellated Dream

A Tessellated Dream

I live in a world of strings

Lost in a few dimensions.

Reality is lost to my eyes

As I inhabit our inventions.

The macrocosm and microcosm

Are invisible to me

And time is fleeting

In this reality.

For there is no such thing

As substance or stability

The illusion is convincing though

I struggle to really see.

I’m very leery of the m-theory.

Things are not what they seem to be.

All time exists as a single moment

And in the quantum universe

Things exist and don’t exist

It’s really quite perverse.

This world may not be as it seems

As we splutter out of these tessellated dreams.

Opher – 5.9.2020

Caught Between – A poem of loss

Caught Between

 

Between the profits and the greed,

Between the money and the seed,

Between the madness and the war,

Between the illness and the sore,

There’s no room.

 

Between the pillar and the post,

Between the devil and the ghost,

Between the hard place and the rock,

Between the explosion and the shock,

There’s no room

 

Between the funfair and the ride,

Between the hunter and the pride,

Between the arrow and the gun,

Between the baiting and the fun,

There’s no room

 

Opher 13.4.2018

 

 

It seems to me that something is missing from this modern life. We’ve lost it somewhere along the way. It has been squeezed out.

Now, with our life of fun, comfort and ease, between the leisure and entertainment, between the purchasing and throwing away, we have lost something that was immensely important.

Now that most of us do not need to struggle for survival, when the food is on the table, the fridge bulges and we just have to turn the central heating or air-conditioning up, something has been lost.

Now when the trip to church, mosque, temple or synagogue and the reading of the verses has no impact on our daily life or the way we act, something has gone badly astray.

Somewhere in the het up struggle between NeoCon and LibTard, where all minds are clouded with tribal fury, a real sense of purpose has been waylaid.

I think I know what it is.

I think we have lost our connection with nature.

Caught Between – A poem

Caught Between

 

Between the profits and the greed

Between the money and the seed

Between the madness and the war

Between the illness and the sore

There’s no room.

 

Between the pillar and the post

Between the devil and the ghost

Between the hard place and the rock

Between the explosion and the shock

There’s no room

 

Between the funfair and the ride

Between the hunter and the pride

Between the arrow and the gun

Between the baiting and the fun

There’s no room

 

Opher 13.4.2018