Knowing Never the Knowledge of Knots

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Because today to not make sense makes far more sense than making any sense in the first place.

Submitted: May 14, 2008

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Submitted: May 14, 2008

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Oh sweet is sweetness
And cold is damp
And all other inevitabilities too
But what is What
When none are They
And all are inexorably Who?

We dance with music
Lyrics are songs
And other obviousness too
But how are we We
When they are not Them
And truth can never truly be true?

Oh hopeless is hopelessness
And thoughtless our thoughts
And all other inaptitude too
But is sight for blind folk
And ears for the deaf
And tongues for only the mutes?

We poor, poor folk
Who sit and ponder
While sullenly
Wondering too
We know what the answer
For we think not the question
When We are not They who never knew Who…


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