Day: May 14, 2018

Dirac sea

Photo0033I dreamed I rowed in a large pea green boat
Accompanied by seventeen cats.
And across the Great Lake,without a mistake
I saw mountains of gentleman’s hats.
I was making no waves in my effort to move,
The cats were discoursing on geometry.
I looked in the mirror fixed onto my boat,
The moon spoke  entrancing Theology.
“I wonder who’ll help me”I thought to myself,
When I saw an entire spectrum of men–
Dirac, Archimedes,Niels Bohr, with their theories.
I got my great inspiration just then.
I need seventeen physicists,that’s one for each cat,
All tied to my boat with a chain.
The force they exert will just compensate
For the magnetic attraction of rain.
Paul Dirac came up, and I looked into his eyes,
They were full of anxiety and pain.
“I am sorry I am unable do what you wish,
But my father never taught me to swim.”
“That is perfectly alright”,I politely replied,
“You can walk on the water instead”
So that’s how my boat and its cargo of cats
Were accompanied back to my bed.
When I awoke the next day,I was filled with dismay.
I saw that Paul Dirac was gone,
With the cats and the boat,of which I just wrote
And I was now completely alone.
I took a quick look,in my old physics book
And there was a photo of Dirac
I stared at his eyes,and I am not telling lies,
He threw me a very strange look.
I caught this strange look,it’s here in my book.
I am saving it for a special event.
When I gather more Data on Relative Quanta,
I’ll understand just what  Paul Dirac meant.

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Cheerio

Photo0034Why is writing an email more difficult  in its etiquette than writing a letter?
For a letter it was always
Dear Mr Digge
Or Dearest Rose.
only varying this with the person and their position in  your life.~
As I wrote recently,it appears beginning an email with “Dear John” is considered wrong.Too formal.Dear no longer means anything much.
As in

Dear Mr X

Your execution has been rescheduled and will now be at 3 p,m Friday
Sorry for any inconvenience.
Yours truly
P.Pilate

Also having a greeting at odds with the ending is always a problem

My  own dearest John
I hate you
Worst wishes ever
Anne

When you meet someone in the street it can be the same.

How are you?
I have got  brain cancer
You’re meant to say, I’m fine
I’m terribly sorry.The chemotherapy has affected my mind
Your hair looks  odd.
You’re not meant to say  that
I’m so sorry.You look great.
Excuse me , the ambulance is waiting
Don’t let me get in the way
But you are  in the way
Always moaning, aren’t you? Look on the bright side.
You are blocking the sun
I can’t help where the sun moves to.
OK.Nice to see you
Mutual
See you later.
See you soon
Cheers,old boy
Cheerio

 

I used to have a heart when I first wrote

In this cubicle I sit and read
“How to live inside a little house”
Does it matter  if the heart is dead,
If I  have a new kitchen ,but no spouse?

I see a folding desk and chair beside
Floors of marbled vinyl in deep teal
Yet now inside a cubicle resides
My entire body and my soul revealed.

I used to have a heart when I first wrote
I felt it like a pressure in the chest
But now I have none,see I merely float
And go the way the current thinks is best

I’ve handed in my notice,I am done
A cubicle is not  the place  for fun

I

Poetry and logic

Photo0027
Town centre 

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/57615/logic-56d23b4c891a9

 

Logic

It was a poem
men took because it said ovary
didn’t take my
political poems
they took the one that said ovary
Are you sure it was because it
           said ovary?
Yes, for them that’s logical.
—————————
Destroy another
          city
What
else
is war for? So
you’ll go down
each of you does. dies in
                           whirlwind
each of you who does, dies
          paying
for the pain you experience
         Just that
and nothing is established
Because I am a woman
Cutting as many cords
as tie you to me. this isn’t
           anarchy
it isn’t anything you
           could name
You’re still here
without ties?
because they were logical.
—————————
Dance little asshole dance
oh he gets elected, like a Calvinist
He says, I have these guts
Men, I have these guts.
—————————
Having dedicated whole
regions to the destruction
          you inspire, the
logic will be to go on doing it
doing it. Having proceeded by
the logic
         of your per-
sonal vaccuum
you will perceive your continued
          lightlessness
as an excuse to go on. having
gone on
as you have. And so one continues.
—————————–
Lead the boy out of
          the building on fire
his head twisted
          upwards
all fucked
What else is there to
       know if
one has gotten
twisted up
all fucked
he is a screaming fire
—————————–
In the explanations
of our lives’ experience
they’ve left out this wild moment
the long mirror on the right-hand wall of the
corridor suddenly shattered
I can’t see myself anymore.
—————————–
I repeat that I am not frightened
          and why not
I don’t know
what my reactions
are supposed to be.
—————————–
        “Please tell me something
with which I’m familiar.”
isn’t there another part of now
Alice Notley, “Logic” from Songs and Stories of the Ghouls. Copyright © 2011 by Alice Notley.  Reprinted by permission of Wesleyan University Press.
Source: Songs and Stories of the Ghouls (Wesleyan University Press, 2011)
  • Related

Good evening

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I heard there was a sacred horde and they teased the Lord. Eliezer a Cohen
You don’t really stare at Newsnight
I said text me, not vex me.
Missing you like I miss the cat’s claws.
Do not prebake me,oh,my darling.
I shall forsake all mothers for you,
With all my tart I feed you
I’ll never regret your apple jumbles
Please deport me or let me flee.
Your memory will always be a dessert for me,
With my body,i flee worship,
I never desired any lover less than you.It was hard both coming and going,
Never invite me to share your dread again.
Please pre-decease me or I shall go run away
Nobody we grow will love me quite like you,Eliza.
How are lead fillings with you these days?
I took you to be my awful,dreaded husband.
With all my worldly grubs,I thee endow.also my rods and tackle,
Come from the heartache to me
There’ll be blue words over,the ravines round Dover,
Scarlet ribbons for her heirs.
God never made those little stone Chapels
Like a bird on the fire,like the junk in the Cathedral choir.I applied  one fine day to be free