The sun will rise,the sun will set,
no more love will life beget;
The day will break,the moon to rise,
no more love,as this life dies;
The Summer heat,or Winter cold,
no more love will this life hold;
The Autumn fall,and Springtime green,
no more again,will love be seen;
The wheat will shoot,the grass will grow,
no more again sweet love to know;
The grape will ripen on the vine
no more,no more will love be mine.
Poetics Poem 5
********(Mimesis)******
Dear Aristotle, where, then,
Do the Arts fit?
You say each of them
Falls to mimesis, but their works, to me,
Erupt into present moments
Wearing immediate faces - not masks -
Speaking their own lyrics
Without consideration of what came
Before or will come afterwards,
Presenting a stage for dialogue...
Opening platforms for exchange.
The artworks begin anew each time
The audience receives impressions
Or as the works are relived repeatedly,
They may bring new strokes, viewed as
Potentially new and not, as you say,
“Imitations of imitations.”
Inspiration feeds the audience
As well as the artists, and all
Of time moves to
Impress upon the exchanges.
(C) sally Young Eslinger 2/22/20
I know languages count by silent lexicons
I know oceans measure by waving hands
I know serpents poison by miseries
I know clouds mould by whispers
I know rivers clutter by sediments
I know oaks augur by heights
I know blood oils by fossils
I know epics endure by echoes
I know ashes wither by winds
I know castles coil by curls
I know hells hasten hubris
I know I know, my ignorance by ignorance
Mimesis Master
Reality’s mirror
Erich Auerbach
Manifest vision
Literature’s reality true.
Stylistic panache
Presignification
Mingling of literary styles
All good in reality’s view.
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved,
April 8, 2018 (Double Dactyl)