Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

had a talk with a prism last night
one which divides pure light for no good reason
red paths ripped from blue by tiny fractions of degrees
summarily dismissed, shot into space

we exchanged theorems and corollaries
it was obvious that all poetry must be geometric
because all of existence must secretly crave it
left over right angles, left over hidden corners

numbers still mean everything and more
they once presumed to rule all of existence
in full view of a numberless galaxy or two, no less
but I hoped they would never get away with it

there have always been good numbers and bad
they kept me occupied and drowning in uncertain math
they might even guarantee my security
or at least deliver change for a dollar

I could use that change

the ordering of what
I never could get
through at the time
when my mind could
only think of flyin'......real nice poem mnaz.....wired

much thanks, wired one....
more late night scribbling for me. I should have skewered politics
while I was at it. Have I mentioned lately how much I hate politics?
Besides yesterday, that is?

I'm signing off for awhile.... going to head into eastern Oregon to clear
my head.... the great "reset button" of wide open space....

mnaz

Here's a picture of Succor Creek Canyon:

<IMG SRC="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v463/mnaz/succor1.jpg" width="450">

Dug this poem out and love it unlike maths which Iloathed.