CantoIII

I am the way all matters turn
I am the alpha and omega
I am the way you'll never learn.

Equality makes God a voice from Vega
Divine omnipotence eternally unviewed,
And ignorance too deep to dig a

Hell unshielded from the nude,
That dictates by its spiral gyre:
All of you are totally screwed.

I saw no words so damned obscure
As those projected to the radius
Schwartzchild wrote entrenched in war.

"Idiot," I said, "don't sound so pious."
No answer escapes a black hole.
"It doesn't matter, one's belief in Deus.

I don't know, now, if we roll
Down or up an intellectual slope,
But I remember I had a goal."

She grinned and spoke, negating, "nope.
"Humans like you always think that,
"It's the most useless way to cope."

My Dog, I thought, a talking cat!
I found myself inside a singularity,
Incomprehensibly shrugging. "Drat."

Here beyond our end the majority
Of matter democratically wins,
An unacknowledged source of gravity.

I asked Schroedinger's cat, who spins,
Particularly, to say what I'm too lazy to.
She said, "Dante claims that everyone sins

"Who lives one life indifferent to who
creates or controls what they cannot,
Or fails to be of the historic few,

"Marked not lukewarm, but cold or hot."
I said, "But he himself was lazy,
Not to mark those sinners lacking thought."

The accretion disk for my metaphor was hazy.
I waved my banner of the perverse,
And the Bastard's Demons swarmed like crazy.

No difference stands between forward and reverse
And in the world that matters, stronger souls
That strive don't move the universe.

Hell, they say, is like one of the black holes
That turns a galaxy to move, beyond our sight
But inescapable the way entropy rules.

The apathetic circle at the speed of light.
My Cheshire guide says all I make is noise.
Dead time will never tell me what was right.

It can't be right, given the choice
To live and die, or dream, an harm none,
Because hell's other people its purpose voice,

Seeing themselves a Saints' Panopticon,
for unsung masses who don't wish upon
Their enemies an Inferno spun,

Make finite earth a living hell.

Index         Demons       Experiment (poem)       Echo.5 (another poem)       Semilife      Pandora       Question Begs Answer