[lit-ideas] Re: Word of the year

  • From: Donal McEvoy <donalmcevoyuk@xxxxxxxxxxx>
  • To: "lit-ideas@xxxxxxxxxxxxx" <lit-ideas@xxxxxxxxxxxxx>
  • Date: Fri, 16 Nov 2012 13:56:55 +0000 (GMT)

ÂSense of Proportion
An anvil struck 
Its pitch 
Twice as much 
An anvil struck
That was 
Twice as much
In weight
This struck Pythagoras 
With the weight
Of a universe
Opening up
From shape of cup
Intervals on lyre
Germination to flower
To triangleâs angles
A ratio roots 
Earth, air
Water, fire
Sun, moon dance
Star, planet slumber
Sound, vision
Shape, form
Amount, number
Myriad tangles
Distorted contortion
Blind chance, dumb collision
Random atoms, chaotic storm
But for proportion
Pythagoras had his second seizure that month, near nightfall
A sunspot burst across his brain
Writhing, a fish in a coracle under a crescent moon
Yearning for the sea
When he woke on his floor
To the hiss of rain
His eyes sprang open 
To light in the night sky
This was not his time to die
Clinging to his notion
Like he clung to himself
Clutching for ratio 
For spasm, commotion
He climbed up and out of where he had been
Afloat in a boat hewn out of ocean
Adrift in the dark endless, endless
Where the struck anvil beyond the horizon
No matter its size
Clanged always pitch perfect
In perfect harmony with everything

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