Slow Zoom Out

Slow Zoom Out

…in those regions of personality which lie outside the orbit of normal consciousness the categories of time and space may be inappropriate and that man in his wholeness dwells in a space which comprehends infinity.
			F. C. Happold
He thinks he was not made to die
			Tennyson


An apple with a bite out of it.

An apple with a bite out of it lying on the floor.

Her hand with fingers stretched toward an apple with a bite out of it lying on the floor.

Her motionless body lying on the ground, her hand with fingers stretched toward an apple with a bite out of it lying on the floor.

They see her.  She is beautiful, even in death.  The world is a senseless nightmare.

Coming home from work, they can’t wait to see her.  How profoundly beautiful life since she arrived.  They see her.  She is beautiful, even in death.  The world is a senseless nightmare.  Her motionless body lying on the ground, her hand with fingers stretched toward an apple with a bite out of it lying on the floor.

If not beauty they can have vengeance.

If not beauty they can have vengeance.
The little men chase the hag until she falls to the earth dead.

They do not know the story is not over.

There is nothing to do but to go on with their lives.
They do not know the story is not over.

He toddles to me holding the world in his hands.

He toddles to me holding the world in his hands.
Will I play it for him?


Tsong
1/20/02 12:41 pm
Copyright © | Year Posted 2019

Poem

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Bangalee Avatar
November 19, 2020 at 1:00 AM
If not beauty they can have vengeance. The little men chase the hag until she falls to the earth dead./// superbly expressed
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