national poetry month

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Tuesday, November 17, 2015

In Supposition and Deposition I Seek to Be Me

My intuitions are right
They’re right because they ARE simple,
  and they’re right because what gets tied in is the real world.

Vaulted complexity makes mayhem through speculation
And speculative fiction is just that, set up for pipe-dream
It's not inutition, we debase ourselves with this slippery-slopes

thinking instinct controls dog smelling porcupine
Attacking it in the speculative fiction Dog will succeed
but finding it, seeing, smelling, barking, "come look, quick!"
Ah, there is intuition

thinking instinct leads dog to dodge rock, meander through weeds
grapple dirt, bound and run forward toward bunny or that smelly thing
Knowing, "game", chasing metaphysical plot, "ah, this feels on!"
Ah, there is intuition

And doesn't it tell you, "You are part of something bigger."
Intuition sees this
Religion speculates, but spirit tells you true, "man, what a load of crap"
But then someone comes along, and tells you thank You.
... as perhaps their pulling said quills out of nose...
As perhaps they're licking you for bringing home bacon
As perhaps they visit your solitude for brief smile and companionship.
My intuition is real because they are simple
    And because through listening, they are tied to the real world

As in the old adage, "still waters silently eddie to the dance of music in your heart"
You don't have to believe, or make it... but sit quietly and listen to sense the world.
And that will tell you, you do know something about the intelligence that saw the quark soup.

Perhaps you can talk yourself out of seeing this
I know I could probably, might even be a need or want
But the metaphor made it real, and one's intuition heard it

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