Poetry

Visual
Air Conditioning
Equidistant Cities
Euphoria
Up

Verse
Apparently
Attempt To Join Sex and Death
Breathing
How To Love a Monster
In Absence of Friendship
Inside
I Thought
The Possible
Words

Prose
A Dora
Black Hole Poem
Light

Black Hole Poem

The phrase turn it into a poem keeps going over in my mind. It strikes me as absurd, not so much the into a poem, but the turning part. It seems to make the assumption of free choice which I admit shouldn’t be so shocking, except that I have this conception about poetry and its origins.

As Demogorgon says the deepest truth is imageless*, the place that is the locus of the black holes of human experience. It's recognized not by its presence but by the absence of what empirical knowledge says should surround it.

ems aren't turnable. They’re too heavy, bearing the weight of the universe and you can’t decide them. The best that can be hoped for is to render them sufficiently accurately for them to give up some impression of their source. That’s the big poetry place which is so dense that no light escapes it.

There is no light there because the energy that would have been light lives there in perfectly peaceful calm, unborn except for poets. Poets can see it because they understand that vision is not the providence of the eyes.

They're designed to make the blind and treacherous journey, sometimes they don't make it back is good shape, but they go anyway, not out of choice but out of poverty, the inability to believe in sight and yet the desire for vision which remains eternally incomplete.

*In "Prometheus Unbound" by Persy Bysshe Shelley