Monday, November 20, 2006

ex māchinā

Once was World Machine,
Once was cause, not consequence,
All cogs and gears turned at my will!
Everything responded to me,
Diamond and undeniable,
I was centre, I was summit, I was all!

Once was largest cog,
Responding as requested,
Shining steel turning ponderously,
Ceaselessly measuring out orders,
Keeping lesser mediums turning, turning.

Once was medium cog,
Twirling turning busy, busy, brass boy
Tooth to tooth middle man,
Giving more than taking.
Busy busy, busy, busy.

Once was smallest cog,
Iron hard, greatly motivated,
Swirling spinning fastest of all,
Doing the great biddings,
See me whirl!

Once was tooth,
Grinding turning, weary wearing,
Once sharp, sharp bite,
But now, fatigued metal stub,
Achy flaky, still I whirl.

I am rust flake.
Drifting free.
No more whirl, spin, turn.
Drifting free.

Oh so free…


ish said...

A little pressure between finger and thumb, and the flake is dust. Blow it away and it can absorb right back into the cosmos. Is that free too? Or oblivion? The progression through the poem works wonderfullly. Neat idea. One of your best.

Inconsequential said...

isn't oblivion freedom?

i hope it is....

Eleuktra Starsoft said...

"Free" comes after "two", according to my number system.

ish said...

Oblivion freedom? Not the freedom I'm after. Enlarged, not diminished, please. Or better still remade, to get rid of the dross.

Inconsequential said...

hmmm, I suspect we have a difference of perspective here.

I tend to think smaller is freer, and the larger the more constrained.

but then everything is subjective to the individual.