Thursday, December 12, 2013

In Mind Is Time



In mind is time bisected,
Order imposed upon 
Imploding past--
Starts asleep in uncertain
Night, stars turn into
Thought, moon into 
Memory, edges light--
And night, heavy under
Dreams of things to be, 
Shambles into the sea.

14 comments:

  1. Very nice. I always wondered if time stood still, how would we compartmentalize it. You have some how made the design.( I am translating my thoughts from Hindi to English) Have a blessed weekend.

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    1. Thank you Munir. Both physicists and theists have proposed matter and mind simply as two ways of organizing events. Time and thought are inseparable, part of the universe. I suppose we are here to learn.

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  2. surprenante cette image, le texte est très poétique...belle journée..

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    1. Merci Gwendoline. Belle journée à vous aussi!

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  3. The blooms in the normaphoto evoked something from the desert for me. It took me several seconds to register the sea foam. (In the mind bisected ...)

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    1. Yes, the photo seems at first a desert giving onto a mountain range then the sea becomes a surprise in the sky.

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  4. I love the photo and the poem is wonderful too.
    This poem took me to another place, another time and it was a good place.

    Thanks so much for the kind words on my last post.
    They are much appreciated.

    See you in the New Year,
    Enjoy the Holidays
    May you be blessed.

    Margie

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    1. Thanks, Margie. I look forward to the pleasure of your renewed company.

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  5. I love what you've done here...to me it feels like you've given a name to my past memories and future imaginings.

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    1. Thanks, Michelle. In "memories and future imaginings", there is surely surprise --as Gwendoline and Suze imply-- but a name? Yes, you're right! I believe you have solved something in the poem I never understood before.

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  6. "And night, heavy under Dreams of things to be, Shambles into the sea"

    Wonderful. HAPPY CHRISTMAS, GEO!

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  7. Thanks Indigo. Best wishes to you to too!

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  8. Geo, you kind of have a knack for guessing my mind in your poems. Or maybe your poems are appealing to everyone. It is curious indeed that the mind, in the present, can only either think about the past or the future.

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