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Meta (Free verse) by nentwined

The form of Form sits on a shelf... once it was red but that wasn't itself it sat in a window but it wasn't seen so I put it away and it's never been it isn't beautiful for nothing is added it isn't large for it hasn't been fatted it's a template, a void, with hollowed out edges that cannot be built with hammers and sledges it once wasn't built and it'll be so again and some time for sure it's part of a plan but not part of a plan, for plain it is so: a plan of the plans that a planner can know. as a plan of the plans that a planner can know it encompasses all the plans that can grow and the plans that can grow contain it in whole but of them it partakes in no manner at all. now the plans it contains are all good and fine but we've got to look at it, just one more time if this plan of the plans is a thing that exists then there's something that follows, that a sane mind resists. that if there's a plan, of the plans that can be then there's a plan of that plan, and then it repeats so there's a plan of a plan of a plan of a plan and so on and so forth, without ever an end.

nentwined 30-Jul-02/10:53 PM
yeah. This poem was written in response to a greek philosophy class. I've read (most of) Godel, Escher, Bach... it really dragged on. Didn't care much for the treatment. :)




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