Auto-exegesis
To describe, debate, discuss
a view, a thought, a feeling I would not hesitate.
Who stops, who hears, attends,
(to the edge of exhaustion)
I am prepared to bore
with opinions, details, facts.
But I do not think it useful
in the ordinary way, to try to explain myself
As if I were some fixed thing;
a chemical formula, a scientific theory.
In the end, I fear that
I am what you see, so what I am
depends as much on you as it does on me.
The same words said to you or
to another find other echoes, other senses.
And to extract a meaning
apart from all those others
has no meaning except for my own vanity.
Like the tree falling
in the forest with no observer.
Yes it would fall.
But would it matter?
To describe, debate, discuss
a view, a thought, a feeling I would not hesitate.
Who stops, who hears, attends,
(to the edge of exhaustion)
I am prepared to bore
with opinions, details, facts.
But I do not think it useful
in the ordinary way, to try to explain myself
As if I were some fixed thing;
a chemical formula, a scientific theory.
In the end, I fear that
I am what you see, so what I am
depends as much on you as it does on me.
The same words said to you or
to another find other echoes, other senses.
And to extract a meaning
apart from all those others
has no meaning except for my own vanity.
Like the tree falling
in the forest with no observer.
Yes it would fall.
But would it matter?
- Last seen 1 day ago. Member since August 1, 2005.
- I'm a opaline dream poet for 932 comments.
- My mood is , and quote is "Nostalgia isn't what it used to be.".
- I am a 58 year old man (Great Britain)
- When I'm not writing, I'm a systems architect.
- I support the site as a gold member
- I have 932 comments, 3 contests, 82 poems, 2 stories
My Lists
Poems I'm focused on
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cool shades of pine forests offer vistas
across the sun-showered Dee32 lines, 14 comments, May 10, 2006. In Nature -
The girl at the ticket desk takes your breath away with her fresh face and low-cut blouse.
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In the quiet before sunrise the plain stretches away
indefinitely, into the morning mist. -
There is no longer mystery
In their familiar wooden faces.
My Poetry
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On a scale of one to ten
The complexity of juggling two balls -
Safe sleeping under soil and under seas
Unmoved for millions of millennia
My Stories
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“Georgie, Poopsie! Where are you? Georgie! Mommie knows you’re hiding in there!”
“Laura, honey, cut it out!” The familiar voice showed irritation. “I have an importatious m -
Chapter 1: Welcome home1276 lines, 7 comments, January 17, 2006. In <200 lines, Crime
Guest Book
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NurseChilly on April 20, 2008write summat!!!
yes -
just mercedes : that tree in the forest on January 12, 2008yes, it would matter. But wood it fall?
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Alexander Hine on June 7, 2007Googled your name. Philogos has some interesting associations, a foundation for the renewal and reform of philosophy, and article in a Jewish Newspaper. Linguistically it seems to be related to 'philo' - love of; and 'logos' - the word of God. Hm, I'm probably wrong about that as I am no linguist. You seem like an interesting fellow, so I will have to examine you poetry soon.
Ah, and you hail from the mother country! Well, here's hello from a descendant of Irish convicts...or potato hungry refugees, not really sure....which is more glamorous? go with that one.
Best of luck in this festival of the transmundane known as life.
K. F.
