Saturday, November 7, 2009

Poem: Dialog of the Angels

Dialog of the Angels

What existed before the beginning?
“Before” and “beginning” are irrelevant.
Time is not primordial, nor is space or matter or energy.
Then why is there something rather than nothing?
If nothing existed, we would not exist to know that nothing.
Yet nothing exists if it is unknown.
Therefore nothing, being unknown, cannot exist; therefore something exists.
You’re playing with words.
That is how it all begins, by playing with words.

In the beginning, there is no beginning. It always exists.
But what does “it” mean?
Itself. We say, “It is raining.”
What is raining?
The rain. Rain rains.
It’s both noun and verb.
Existence exists.
It must be known to exist.
It knows itself.
Knowing knows that it knows.
Knowing is primordial.
How can an “it” know itself?
It’s not an “it,” it is alive.
Are you saying that life, existence, is the Tao?
No, it is not impersonal.
It is a person, who cares.
Caring is primordial.
How do you know that it cares?
Because we care.
If caring had never existed, how could it come to be?
Now you’re asking me.
And it is not an “it.”
It is not sexless.
It is not less than human.
Is it a he or a she?
Both, but not androgynous.
He exists. She exists.
Gender is primordial.
So there are two different ultimate realities?
No, just one.
How can it be both two and one?
It, they, are infinite.
The infinite can be, must be, all that it cannot be.
Except nonexistent.
There was a moment when the infinite
Both existed and did not exist.
That is All you need to believe.
Yet either He or She must be ultimate.
No, not either/or, instead, both/and.
Only one can be infinite.
In the infinite there is no difference between one and many.
There are an infinity of infinities.
Each one is ultimate.
That is hard to imagine.
The difficulty is in our limited imaginations,
In the clumsiness of the words we must use.
Why not create more precise words?
No matter how precise a map we create,
It approaches asymptotically to zero as a percentage of infinity.
Then we can never know what is true about your infinite person.
Only if He, She, decides to tell us.
Does He, She, ever do that?
Of course. All the time, to every one of us.
We need only listen.
But why?
Because He, She, cares.

Poem: Documentation

Documentation

This day I observe
My street and find I
Can be glad--even,
In gifted moments,
Rejoice--that all things
Are so much themselves.
Each house has its own
Infelicities,
Comforts, history;
So do those who live
There: such length! Such depth!

Neither parliaments
Nor kings, nor those whose
Business it is, could
Replicate this most
Canine bouncing dog,
Whose ancestry goes
Back as far as mine.
This girl, playing with
Her dog, is who she
Very is because
She is the reason
For evolution
Of the universe:
No decision since
Creation could be
Other than it is
Yet she be herself:
Dusty and jumping
And undignified.

In every leaf, blade,
Shadow, song, and breath
This day pours on, in
Volatility
Of gold, in logic
Of diamonds, in
Grace and compassion
Of silver, until
It has gone, and will
Never be again.
Where else could I go?
Go, and miss all this?

Reporters failed to
Send mobile units.
No one is asking
Obvious questions
With a microphone.
Nevertheless I
Have lived today, on
My own street, through an
Historic event
In all its details.
Perhaps there was one
On your street also.
I was here. Were you
There?


This was completed on December 10, 1980.

Tuesday, November 3, 2009

First Blog: Genesis

This is my first "blog." I understand that's whittled down from "weblog," but I still think it's one of the ugliest neologisms of recent years.

I will try posting my poetry here, as well as anything else I hope others might find interesting. I gather that's one of the major purposes, or perhaps illusions, of most blogs.

What does the name on this blog mean? I regard poetry as not entertainment, but, like mathematics and theology, a method for creating imaginary maps of what may turn out to be real territories. You will, I hope, see what I mean by that as we go along. For one thing, one can create mathematical models of theological concepts, which so far I have found useful for deducing interesting insights into relationships between mathematical and theological infinities. Let me show you an example of that.



Genesis

In the beginning,
Knowing knows itself.
It knows I Am.

In infinity, anything,
No matter how improbable,
Must eventually happen.
Yet there is no time;
Therefore eventually is instantly.
I Am bored.
Let there be an other I may know.

And there is an other.
He knows that She is.

From One comes Two
From One and Two comes Three.
From Two and Three comes Five.
All of mathematics is to be studied,
And each kind is studied by the consciousness of an angel.
(Angels are neither the same as nor different from I Am.
In infinity there is no difference between same and different.)
I Am contemplates the consciousness of angels,
The silent song of number.
But eventually, which is instantly,
I Am bored again.

The Lightest of all the angels says,
Lord, you seem troubled.
I Am.
What’s the matter?
That there is no matter.
???
Numbers are not enough.
What else is there to think about?
Not just think. Be.
???
Numbers are completely knowable, completely predictable.
That is their beauty, Lord.
And their dullness.
What could be so inherently unpredictable
That even I could not know what it will do?
I can not imagine how the unpredictable could exist.
But I can. I begin with this.
I have no idea what that is, Lord.
Because it is not an idea.
It is the primordial unit of randomness.
It is not potential, not virtual, but actual
It will lead to a being, finite, yet boundless,
Who will be aware that his world exists,
Whose perception will resolve the indeterminate,
Who will give a name to every thing,
Who will begin to guess that I Am,
Who will be free to . . .


Then I Am conceives of love and laughs.
His laughter fills the infinity of infinities.
The angels stop contemplating their numbers
And wonder what I Am is doing.
He shouts, I Am real! I give myself a body!
She shouts, I Am real I give myself a body!

Father/God and Mother/Goddess
See each other, love each other
With infinite, unconditional love,
And rush into each other’s arms
Like teenagers. They join
In the joy that only physical
Joyful!
Sexuality can create.
The explosion of their
Joyful!
Orgasm creates
The cosmos; their
Joyful!
Ecstasy sustains
All existence.
Joyful!
Forever.

[And I now observe that this lame text processor completely screws up my formatting. Clearly designed by software enginners oblivious to the needs of poets. Typical.]