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Local Parasite
Deputy Moderator 10 Tours
Member Elite
since 2001-11-05
Posts 2527
Transylconia, Winnipeg

0 posted 2004-12-28 08:32 PM


Stinking like manure and rose,
Though I keep my nostrils closed,
I wear a ring that doesn't fit,
Though I pull and pry at it.

Sticking like a hornet's stinger,
I can't pull it off my finger.
Would it come off if it fit?
Something keeps me hating it.

Glittering like a starry bullet,
It shines brighter as I pull it.
Would it come off if it fit?
I cannot conceive of it.

I can twirl it and rotate it,
The more I look, the more I hate it.
Steel is solid, flesh is soft:
So I cut my finger off.

© Copyright 2004 Brian James Lee - All Rights Reserved
Alicat
Member Elite
since 1999-05-23
Posts 4094
Coastal Texas
1 posted 2004-12-28 09:26 PM


A bit like 'cutting off your nose to spite your face', though for some reason, I'm just not getting it, especially since you put this one in SJ.  I reckon it could be about forcible seperation from things in one's life which now longer are part of who they are, and so drastic measures are taken to create distance from where they were and where they are now.  I realize, of course, I could be so far off from base that I'm in the nosebleed section past left field.
Lighthousebob
Member Elite
since 2000-06-14
Posts 4725
California
2 posted 2004-12-29 08:18 PM


Apologies accepted. LOL I have a presupposition as of such that I cannot understand your poem, so no matter how much time and effort you spend trying to explain it to me, I still I won't understand it. Kind of like Faith is is it not??? Good luck with that ring thing, though, my poet friend. (smiles) -Bob
Local Parasite
Deputy Moderator 10 Tours
Member Elite
since 2001-11-05
Posts 2527
Transylconia, Winnipeg
3 posted 2004-12-29 08:36 PM


Is it really too much of a riddle?  Because it's meant to express the paradox of logical doubt.  Doubt relies on logic, but logic requires a reference point in order to be trusted (which is objectivity).  If logic pursues doubt, it must realize that it cannot do without what it attempts to doubt (the absolute) because it relies on the object of its doubt as the basis of its doubt.

So, doubt on the basis of logic is like wearing a ring that's too tight to remove, and complaining about it---though you can examine it, master it, and look it over, it won't do you any good to become frustrated with it.  In the end all you can do is destroy yourself, but you can never eliminate the objective, the absolute essence of the Divine that is so firmly placed on your finger.

The person cannot even understand why he is wearing the ring, or where it came from, so his only solution is to try and deny it.  It is a "starry bullet" because it is otherworldly and frightening, permanent, and indestructible.

I should probably add that this poem isn't about me personally.  Thanks for reading me.

Brian


"God becomes as we are that we may be as he is."  ~William Blake

Lighthousebob
Member Elite
since 2000-06-14
Posts 4725
California
4 posted 2004-12-29 11:01 PM


A poem about Logical Doubt... Interesting. I suppose I presupposed too quickly. Your explanation solved the riddle quite nicely  and without doubt, I agree with your identifying the essence of the Divine as absolute.  At least in this case, absolutely, no stinking rings found here on these fingers. (Smiles) Thanks for sharing.

-Bob

EagleScorpion
Senior Member
since 2000-03-08
Posts 1644
Here, Now, Forever
5 posted 2005-02-05 01:35 PM


hehehehhee

OUCH

Joyce Johnson
Deputy Moderator 1 TourDeputy Moderator 1 Tour
Member Rara Avis
since 2001-03-10
Posts 9912
Washington State
6 posted 2005-02-05 03:54 PM


My goodness. And I guess I am just too logical to understand. Joyce
sandgrain
Member Elite
since 1999-09-21
Posts 3662
Sycamore, IL, USA
7 posted 2005-02-13 06:36 PM


Aha!  I'm back again.  Didn't respond the first time as I thought I was probably way off base, and may still be.  Somehow, it made me think of an addicted family member, or abusive parent.  Loving the person while hating what they do, like our Lord must feel seeing our sin.

You possess a talent seldom found. Keep up the good work.

Rae

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