Hey folks...I am back after an extended stay back in the camp of metaphysical belief. Thanks for the welcome.

Here's I poem I wrote while was away...

An Exercise in Kundera


Liberalization began melting the curtain of pig
But the eighty-second element rained down
Upon the radical, dissent springs retaliation
From the pig sledge and the cast scythe


Eternal recurrence, a cyclic themes in the annals
Western and Eastern, Northern and Southern
No escaping the vicious luminescence called the truth

The forces of indifference topsy-turvy the normalcy
The treads are indifferent to the crushing the marrow
The handlers are indifferent to the piles of necrosis

Stalinized knifes know the cold reality of statistics
A million or a multiple more dulls the sympathetic edge
But the single loss, that makes all the difference


Thus Spake Zarathustra,
The unfinished algorithm within the simulation,
The constant not meant to be constant

Morality inverted but only for a time geographically
Other parts of the fallen experiment are still rightly aligned

The problems are the same, but three constants appear
The names, the places, the dates, the first long syllables
The patterns we seek, the constants we discover
Invented by us or the other way around?


Are we the inventors of totalitarianism or
Did the universe have it always as a bedrock characteristic?

The circularity of the serpent devouring its tail,
The constant not meant to be constant
The madman accusing others of relentless deicide,
The Ferris wheel possessed by a demonic force


Destroyed by a cast scythe against corroded calcite,
Decimated by a pig sledge against the weak foundation

Death, we return to the motes of indestructibility
Pullman’s metaphor for the proposed reality posited by Higgs

Man’s inhumanity to man be damned, universal apathy and
The Ouroboros of life remain the constants that shame and
Overpower the carbon-based life-formed that waste phlogiston


The ungloved, exposed pig fist of the prior then counterpunched
By the pig fist wrapped in velvet of the newer then

But the long vowel constants enter
The constant not meant to be constant
And at the mercy of an ultimate constant,
The unceasing flow of time

The Hoyle Steady-State Theory applied to
The philosophical abstract of the physical reality
Called the ticking device powered by an acid bath
Of viscous paste, of the thirtieth element added to six


Shamed eternally and overpowered, the sad excuses
Of amino-acid chain bonding and natural selection

The greatest of the apes is also the least,
The contradiction eternal and unbending

The number-three pencil is the three-dollar bill.

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