The Enquiry.

The perspective begins
here, here, or here.

Waves, responses,
you, and none you.

Language -
standing up to speak.

Call it evolution.
Call it progress.
Calling a spade, a J.C.B.

The knowledge:
Knowing there's a difference,
between appearance
and representation,
but not, the difference.

Desire:
Wanting the golden ball,
and the apple, in one.

At being:
In-the-world,
and of the world,
and inseparable.

An utterance:
An expression -
Call it art,
or, dressing up.

Doing, because
the doing, can be done.

Think about it,
write it down,
call upon the wise men
for references.
Put your argument well,
be clever,
self referential,
express a paradox.

The Calculus:
Systems, both
complete & consistent
evade.

The fog, is clear to see.

Copyright 1995 by Terry Miles.

***
 

In the Can.

We live - in a sardine can,
like commuters on the underground,
we thought, there was safety in numbers.

We hadn't heard of:
radar, drag-nets, or toast.

Now, we are neatly packed,
like marines in a troop carrier,
like servicemen on parade, in rows -
before becoming, ex-servicemen,
dead-soldiers, or heroes.

We, are ex-sardines,
in bloody fruit we are smothered.
We know we are liked,
we are, ex-sardines.

Copyright 1996 by Terry Miles.

**
 

Words.

To think,
what then, is a word,
but a label, and a link
between a thought,
profound, or not,
and its expression
received, we think.

Or perhaps, it is for one
to be deceived,
to know, takes more
than learning words,
or the latest dictionary.

Experience, they say,
illuminates our vision, as
lightning, seldom strikes
the same place, twice.

To be sure,
never, but never, say never.

Not with a wish,
nor with a curse,
does it take
to distinguish a falsehood
from a truth, perceived.

Some intuition, though
may seem sound, but
we are in doubt
to where it's ground.

Words are labels,
and labels are perhaps, not
what they may seem, to be,
between us, outside
from the correspondent state.

Words, the tools of thought,
are they not for real, a truth
and not then, for a dream.?

1992 - 93.
Copyright 1993 by Terry Miles.

***
 

The Dog.

Shaking off the wetness,
the dog, without a thought
of doing so
enjoyed the sensation.

The dog,
 not thinking of
how it's done
didn't miss anything.
Everything,
and everyone around
was wet.

Copyright 1993 by Terry Miles.

*** 
 

WYSIWYG.

Who then should say, that time is late,
the here and now, be past, be gone,
with such indecent haste,
sharing, competing within
the fourth dimension, passing space,
exploding, the singularity divided,
becoming the condition, the energy
and time itself, space creating too,
straight out of the blue, the cauldron,
fire, the eternal present, becoming,
shedding, creating history, there
in its wake, outgrowing the present,
the present of life itself,
the gift of its own creation,
in becoming, new improved, becoming,
causality inherent within.

Who then can say
that time is quick, or slow?
Here now, time takes its time,
and we measure, and say,
"It's too early." "Getting late."
'We', the subject in all this,
confuse, what is out there
with what we make of it,
the energy, the spin within
spin within spin, hadrons,
close to the speed of light,
the pull, gravitational field,
appearances, matter,
that is all - causality,
the universal will, the force
behind the form, sustaining
whatever its objectification;
look beyond the world, the universe
perceived, and be disappointed.

Copyright 1993 by Terry Miles.

***
 

Bug Viewer.

I see an eye as distant and bright as the moon.
I step across the grid lines - a rule! Measure to measure.
This is a glasshouse, empty, and barren - a lonely place.

Little old me!
I can watch the world go by, and starve -
I can be set free, and crushed.

If you were me, what would you think of me -
if I were you?
Intentionality is all in the mind. I don't read minds.

Have you seen enough of me?
Detect any anxiety? I'm nervous all right.
There's no escape route that I know of.

I am your prisoner, bug viewer -
God of Small things.
I have no bargaining power.

In the normal world of connections
I appear, and disappear, ascend, and descend at will,
I connect, I'm scary. A phobia is named after me.

My fate is in your hands. Study me -
am I not worth something?
Here, curiosity is not a victimless crime.

The great sky is open;
my world is turned upside down.
I let go, and hold on. I descend.

I am ready to run, as fast as my legs can carry me.
I am free of the bug viewer.
I'm off to catch me a fly.

Note:
A bug viewer is a glass, or clear plastic cylindrical container that has grid lines to measure insects at the bottom, and a magnifying glass in the lid.

Copyright 2003 by Terry Miles.

***
 

Duck-weed and Relativity.

Duck-weed has covered the pond,
resting place, and play-ground to the newts.
The river charts the phases of the moon,
too fast - to catch the star-light years.

Copyright 1996 by Terry Miles.

***
 

Black Hole.

Black hole,
do you think, once or twice,
before you wander, or not at all?

Black hole.

Do you wonder - at what you are?
A star, inside out.

Black hole,

ponder for a moment,
before you star,
in your next role.

Black hole.

Copyright 1992 by Terry Miles.

***
 

Heavy Metal.

After the band had stopped,
he said, "If your boyfriend
comes in - in a Jumbo Jet
it's not too loud."

1997.09.17
Copyright 1997 by Terry Miles.

***
 

The Leopard.

Take the tiger for instance,
mighty as it is, it's still
unable to renounce its stripes,
but then the tiger is unable
to live without them;
without its stripes
the tiger would be more visible,
not less, it wouldn't disappear
from view like that, though
it may be called something else,
a non-tiger at the very least,
as for the zebra,
its stripes creates confusion
with optical illusion.

Copyright 1993 by Terry Miles.

***
 

The Shell 1.

Listen, it's not the sea,
but the cry of ghosts,
the echoes of life,
and shadows lost.

The Shell 2.

Listen, it’s not the sea,
but the cry of ghosts,
lost in shadows, adrift,
fading echoes of life.

Copyright 1995 by Terry Miles.

The Cube.

 The cube
is as perfected
as the eye can see.

The hand that picks it up
then puts it down,
the eye sees,
and yet, cannot detect
without a frown
if it lies -

sideways up,
or
sideways down,

upside up,
or
downside down,

back to front,
front to back,

what deception
in perfect form.

Sugar cube,
offers sweet charity -
to a dental cavity.

Ice cube.
Toast the maiden,
clink, clink,
in the drink,
front page ice pic.
unthinkable,
unsinkable,
the Titanic.

Up North then
for tea?
Oxo, gives a square,
well rounded meal,
extra 3D,
the cube appeal.

Picasso
& Braque,
Juan Gris & Co.,
painted life
the world cube -
straight out of a tube,
with a flick of their wrists
signed in style,
'The Cubists.'.

Rubik's Cube!
Amused?
Confused, damn it.

Copyright 1993 by Terry Miles.

***