sorry about the parts!

[gruntingslime]

Hands and Eyes

The canon blugerous eye
Sees as it sweeps out of use.
The primate hands, swinging at the nearest distraction
Connected by tendons sensitive to a sharp contact,
and fragile

Thrown out, hands, tendons and eyes.
Disregarded, the ears, the people play
Crash and scream.

The body, the hulk.
The heart is in the right place and still beating.
The brain’s become detatched, wearing it
down the spine
like a tail or a shoe

The feet are walking the feet are walking
The brain’s squish
feet are walking

The tendons were left with the hands and eyes
And the bones are disappearing; here they are,
Playing the role of the skeleton,
The soulless role of death incarnate.

The hands are rocking; they’re sliding to the ride.
The parts, they’re gathering.
At the edge of oblivion the brain and nose are held under the arm by the hands and eyes.
Against the infinity of space roaring fire
And scorched rock,

What do these parts have to say for themselves?

Well,
Says the parts,
It was a good haul.

You’re, all broken up.

I got to keep on going,
says those parts,
What about you?

Me? What part am I?

Well,
Says the parts,
Same part as me I suppose.

[Delta40]

I think the end verses detract from the random shuffle of body parts who, while seeming vital to an existence of some kind, are not sure of their role or how they might be connected. Pose a question but with your odd imagination here, there is absolutely no need to explain it.

keep writing.

[gruntingslime]

sorry about the parts!:party:

[PrinceMyshkin]

There was such raucous, anarchic, free-wheeling imagination here that I wished for a much less didactic, 'rational' conclusion.

[gruntingslime]

Efter and Toft Meeting at Eloise Cross

Efter and Toft were always to meet at Eloise Cross.
They came from different directions;
Wandering up the roads they lost themselves in reflection
Rememberances of their learning painted the sky a blue
that could only be seen
without knowledge.

Efter, efter Efter comes Toft.
Toft stands to one side of the empty plain,
From the other direction, Efter comes after.
They were meant to meet at Eloise Cross,
But they met too soon.

Their thoughts go out to one another;
In the imagination of the other they exist.

Tell the story of the distant traveler,
They think to one another.
The tale is incomplete;
A foggy vision of a robe, moving among the rocks
avoiding detection of the flying iguana.

How long it is to walk when one does not want to
sit and stare
but one wants to stop
and the journey is long.
Efter and Toft relived their meeting in essence
whenever they were apart.
That is why they were always to meet
At Eloise Cross.

When they were there, they would stand
Face to face, until the liquid met the mirror.
Then,
and only then,
could they be.

[Delta40]

I don't have an inkling about Efter and Toft. I think the flying iguana got in the way!

[Transmodernism]

Hands and Eyes
The feet are walking the feet are walking
The brain’s squish
feet are walking

...

Me, what am I?

Well,
Says the parts,
Same part as me I suppose.

I'm not sure I get this highly anatomical poem. The extended discussion of the tendons as well as the mentioning of "the brain's squish / feet are walking" reminded me of some of the more theatrical anatomical experiments of the late Freddy Kruger, which I will not get into.

The end, which I quoted above, reminded me of Hume's bundle theory, which says that all you are not a self, but simply a collection of qualities (or perhaps body parts). I don't know if that is the philosophy here, but that's what it reminded me of.