God, the Comma

God, if you think of it,
may be no more than a comma
in a long, convoluted statement
of the meaning of everything.

Or not the meaning, but the thing itself,
from which meaning
can neither be detached nor derived.

The comma separates
the principal from the subordinate clause,
that which was from that which will be.

It is the Sabbath of the sentence,
the pause between birth and breath.

I must say this is a very provoking and philosophical and yet beautifully written poem. I take my hat of to you PrinceMyshkin

Brilliant!!! Wow. I think this is excellent. :)

With luck, God, (in whatever way people choose to define him/her/it) is also the period at the end of the sentence. (Especially if it's a life sentence.) Great write Prince.

Many thanks, AlexanderIII, Virgil & Sophia.

To some of us, God is a boldface exclamation point. To others, he's a huge question mark.

You may think the following is unrelated, but I think it is: I heard on Dylan Ratigan's show this morning that scientists have discovered that the conventional wisdom of "survival of the fittest" isn't really true. Instead, what seems to have insured human survival as a species is "survival of
the kindest," a "compassion" gene intrinsic to every person at birth.

Hmmm, I wonder where that kindness gene ultimately came from.

God, if I think of it, may be the starting point of the comma, where everything WAS IS and WILL BE or BECOMES, perpetually. There is a book, rather occult and so-called "spiritual" in which divinity if primarily Goodness, the reason for birth, the reason for breath... the Shabbat of the World. It is truely an amazing poem.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by AuntShecky

To some of us, God is a boldface exclamation point. To others, he's a huge question mark.

You may not think the following is unrelated, but I think it is: I heard on Dylan Ratigan's show this morning that scientists have discovered that the conventional wisdom of "survival of the fittest" isn't really true. Instead, what seems to have insured human survival as a species is "survival of
the kindest," a "compassion" gene intrinsic to every person at birth.

Hmmm, I wonder where that kindness gene ultimately came from.

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Auntie,
You wonder where it came from
I wonder where it went
And if it's truly there at all
Was it heaven sent?

There is a not so new hypothesis called the Grandmother Hypothesis. It speculates, among other things, that human culture grew out of the relatively long post-menopausal lifetimes of our grandmothers. The idea being that, older more experienced women in the home/workplace of early hunter-gatherers provided a competitive edge to those families. It is altogether possible that this phenomenon has a genetic (or epigenetic) component. I prefer to think of it as purely a function of love.
When I first read about this hypothesis, I was reminded of my own grandmother. When she would tuck us in or say goodbye she always left us with a single word, "soft". I never knew exactly what it meant, but I did know how it felt. I like to think that it was passed down along thousands of generations from our one shared great-grandmother, and that it was an admonition about how we should treat one another.
Hack
In an aside, unlike God I have some difficulty with my commas, but then, the universe does not hinge on it.
Good write, Sweet Prince, and "soft"

A marvelous thought...and God paused and saw that it was good, and morning and evening were subordinate clauses of the sentence beginning...on the sixth day.

Reading this again Prince, this is really a home run. If and when you cull together your finest into an opus, this has to be there.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by AuntShecky

To some of us, God is a boldface exclamation point. To others, he's a huge question mark.

You may not think the following is unrelated, but I think it is: I heard on Dylan Ratigan's show this morning that scientists have discovered that the conventional wisdom of "survival of the fittest" isn't really true. Instead, what seems to have insured human survival as a species is "survival of
the kindest," a "compassion" gene intrinsic to every person at birth.

Hmmm, I wonder where that kindness gene ultimately came from.

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Wherever or whenever that "kindness gene" came from it has surely had a lot of other genes to contend with. I recently came across this magnificent opening line of Carolyn Kizer's "Election Day 1984"

Did you ever see someone coldcock a blind nun?

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Originally Posted by PrinceMyshkin

Wherever or whenever that "kindness gene" came from it has surely had a lot of other genes to contend with. I recently came across this magnificent opening line of Carolyn Kizer's "Election Day 1984"

Did you ever see someone coldcock a blind nun?

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I can't say I have ever witnessed that, but I did see a man trip a cripple for the amusement of an orphan one time. I consider that an extraordinary act of kindness.

Ugh, I thought I replied to this. Prince, you made me read it twice. I enjoyed pondering the notion of God as a comma.

"It is the Sabbath of the sentence..." What a beautiful idea. The whole poem is extraordinary, Prince. I like all the things you write, but of them all, this is the one I would keep. And maybe I will.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by hack

I can't say I have ever witnessed that, but I did see a man trip a cripple for the amusement of an orphan one time. I consider that an extraordinary act of kindness.

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Surely you mean this as some sort of very black humour?

Quote:

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Originally Posted by PrinceMyshkin

Surely you mean this as some sort of very black humour?

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Surely, but no blacker than a cold-cocked nun. God I suppose might forgive the former, but I think you may do hard time for the sisters troubles.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by firefangled

A marvelous thought...and God paused and saw that it was good, and morning and evening were subordinate clauses of the sentence beginning...on the sixth day.

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Thank you, Rev. Ff, and may I immodestly quote my emendation of Genesis:

On the eighth day God created the middle class and sent it forth to appraise the world and to find it less than adequate;
And on the ninth day God created the children of the middle class...

You know, Prince, I started out reading your work somewhat apathetically; Understanding my lack of engagement as a reaction against our wildly different modes and tastes of aesthetic expression. But the more I read from you, the more impressed I am. I mentioned the facility of your pieces before, but this one really shows off your effortless gift of similie and metaphor. Everything flows so naturally and not even a single word seems forced. I would sacrifice my entire 'gift' (if I can even justify calling it that) for wordplay for your genuine and undeniable gift for your laconic but piercing insight.

Just brilliant, truly.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by MorpheusSandman

You know, Prince, I started out reading your work somewhat apathetically; Understanding my lack of engagement as a reaction against our wildly different modes and tastes of aesthetic expression. But the more I read from you, the more impressed I am. I mentioned the facility of your pieces before, but this one really shows off your effortless gift of similie and metaphor. Everything flows so naturally and not even a single word seems forced. I would sacrifice my entire 'gift' (if I can even justify calling it that) for wordplay for your genuine and undeniable gift for your laconic but piercing insight.

Just brilliant, truly.

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I could reply to this by bawling in gratitude had I not been brought up in the paternalist tradition that "men" (albeit very small men, three years of age)"don't cry," but... you get the idea! Of course it's best to get such appreciation from someone who holds antithetical aesthetic ideas, but may I say if you had my "gift," what would become of your own as it is now and will be further developed?

Thanks.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by PrinceMyshkin

if you had my "gift," what would become of your own as it is now and will be further developed?

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Grass is always greener and all those musty (but still very true) epigrams.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by PrinceMyshkin

On the eighth day God created the middle class and sent it forth to appraise the world and to find it less than adequate;
And on the ninth day God created the children of the middle class...

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Some of us in the middle class know for a fact that God developed the proof of concept for the MC on the Sabbath and possibly a prototype. Where do you think we got our work ethic? Certainly not from Piers Plowman! And the Pilgrim's Progress is just a story we were told to make us sleep and dream of entitlements to come.

The children created on the ninth day were penance for the party we had on the eighth day that nearly shattered the earth. We of the middle class were to vain to see ourselves in the once clear waters without being overcome with admiration for having dammed them. So God in her wisdom made our children in our image, an inescapable looking glass, which we are in the process of entering during the next decade as we become more and more fluent with texting just so we can, like, communicate with them.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by jersea

Ugh, I thought I replied to this. Prince, you made me read it twice. I enjoyed pondering the notion of God as a comma.

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Thanks, Jersea - or should I say "My apologies" for making you read this twice?

To speak about God, a very convoluted subject with this air simplicity is not a joke but you made it hilariously beautiful. I really got absorbed. In fact we fashion ideas and make simple things unnecessarily and wordily very vast. All what we say philosophical at times is nothing but verbatim.

This poem has indeed transcended all that.

Of course at times to understand simple truth we use aide of difficult words and complicatedly long sentences. When we can see truth we borrow others' eyes.

This poem goes all this.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by qimissung

"It is the Sabbath of the sentence..." What a beautiful idea. The whole poem is extraordinary, Prince. I like all the things you write, but of them all, this is the one I would keep. And maybe I will.

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You may indeed keep it if you will, especially as I have kept one or two of my favourite poems by you.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by blazeofglory

To speak about God, a very convoluted subject with this air simplicity is not a joke but you made it hilariously beautiful. I really got absorbed. In fact we fashion ideas and make simple things unnecessarily and wordily very vast. All what we say philosophical at times is nothing but verbatim.

This poem has indeed transcended all that.

Of course at times to understand simple truth we use aide of difficult words and complicatedly long sentences. When we can see truth we borrow others' eyes.

This poem goes all this.

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Many thanks, Blaze.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by hack

Auntie,
You wonder where it came from
I wonder where it went
And if it's truly there at all
Was it heaven sent?

There is a not so new hypothesis called the Grandmother Hypothesis. It speculates, among other things, that human culture grew out of the relatively long post-menopausal lifetimes of our grandmothers. The idea being that, older more experienced women in the home/workplace of early hunter-gatherers provided a competitive edge to those families. It is altogether possible that this phenomenon has a genetic (or epigenetic) component. I prefer to think of it as purely a function of love.
When I first read about this hypothesis, I was reminded of my own grandmother. When she would tuck us in or say goodbye she always left us with a single word, "soft". I never knew exactly what it meant, but I did know how it felt. I like to think that it was passed down along thousands of generations from our one shared great-grandmother, and that it was an admonition about how we should treat one another.
Hack
In an aside, unlike God I have some difficulty with my commas, but then, the universe does not hinge on it.
Good write, Sweet Prince, and "soft"

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I appear to have neglected responding to this and in doing so missed the chance to express my appreciation of your memories of your grandmother and to mention my love for my own maternal grandmother, with whom I spoke Yiddish, since she knew no English, and now whenever I have the opportunity to speak Yiddish with anyone, her presence is somehow there in those exchanges.

Thank you.

Having come late to the forum and not having seen this before I feel compelled to throw in my two penneth:-

I look upon the comma,
Now what is it that I’m seeing?
A stream of consciousness perhaps,
Down a plughole, disappearing.

A Comma too, is half a yang
Or possibly a ying
And if it represents our god
Then it’s half of everything.

As punctuation for our faith
It’s really quite effective,
Crucial though, the choice of font,
Or the argument’s defective.

As always, PM a stylish and thought-provoking piece and I have enjoyed pondering upon it and the subsequent posts in this strand. – Thanks,

H

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Hawkman

Having come late to the forum and not having seen this before I feel compelled to throw in my two penneth:-

I look upon the comma,
Now what is it that I’m seeing?
A stream of consciousness perhaps,
Down a plughole, disappearing.

A Comma too, is half a yang
Or possibly a ying
And if it represents our god
Then it’s half of everything.

As punctuation for our faith
It’s really quite effective,
Crucial though, the choice of font,
Or the argument’s defective.

As always, PM a stylish and thought-provoking piece and I have enjoyed pondering upon it and the subsequent posts in this strand. – Thanks,

H

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Not sure I understood the reference to the font, apart from which what a witty response. Thanks.