ForkWord




Poems by Inchiki



 


School of the Unintelligible Media



At a school both old and new
Bachelors of the Unintelligible Media are we
In suspension of disbelief
We call on superstition the new logic.
Our law is lore esoteric and our wisdom, pure madness!
Don't ask about our history - it is firmly lodged
There in the almanac of the sub-submarine mind

Our presumption is this: the Unintelligible Medium
Existent to us through the media of sense
Sometimes called a Being, strokes us with a loving fist
And in awe of its love we anoint the world
For all students of art and humanity dance at it
But brushed with the tactile log - logic
It flinches away - leaving behind a sound bite
Black hole big bang singularity paradox pantheon
Of deities - to our amusement and frustration

There it lie unrevealed unrivalled and reviled by space
Seen not by looking but by sideways knowing
Exerting itself in influence on every pin, ever stroking
But never stroked - who says they do not know it?
It is the lost necklace that touch knows was always there.
We are but students in this awe, forever changing face
There is no School in time or place, but here we are
On the floor of Ockham's cutting room staring at the door







27 Watt  2005