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The Earth is Made of Many Worlds
by Rob LittlerThe earth is made of many worlds,
Collisions of past epic trajectories
All now ruminating in a churning stew
Falling around a raging sun. TV says they are
Proving gravity is a push not a pull—
Aristotle’s problem solved, all past is now
Relegated to books, which is pretty much
Lore, anyway. Books being clouds. Clouds being
Warehoused data-to-memory, accessible. We are not
So much an oral tradition, then, as we are a mental
Tradition, aided, mind you, by the cycloptic focus
That happens when you cross your eyes too long
Staring into the vastness that opens up in a tiny screen
Whilst surrounded by the Universe, from the ends
Of the fingertips to the ever-expanding edge, if that’s
Even still right anymore? Is it expanding or has it stopped?
Will it always be this way, or will one day this vision
Of real things made by human hands be replaced
By an input view—A place, where looking through,
Reality is synthesized into something new.
And the mind will never know the truth
Of what’s now passed off as being true.
11/11/2015 Posted on 11/11/2015
Copyright © 2024 Rob Littler
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Paul Lastovica on 11/12/15 at 01:32 AM there's so much to chew on here... one day, countless eons away, our universe will stop expanding, if only because it collided with another. All our collected Gods will look about and ask "what was that sound?" - and the question will pass just as quickly as it arrived; it was just the wind, after-all. |
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