Molecules, puppets, and plays

original poetry

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In coordination—twisting elements transmogrify
On construction or dissolution intent.
Their gestalted products feel pinpricks
Of quick operations in dim insinuation,
Their sensations dull and dreamy are
In truth, most slight: a hint.

At the baseboards
With the crumbs of omniscience
With the clumps of hovering grass
Defying gravity that live on rainbow air:
This toyland is projected through bone?

Imps & fountains & instreaming sunglight
& Darkness of storms & Unrendered despair:
Everything lost could be found on the isle
Of dreams that dissolved in a gasp of red air.

Journaled the inclination, to find it inane,
A vapid remark to be marked down in vain.

Yet still, the elements taught their effects
Through humidity, dust, distillation of character,
Blasphemed each other, embraced, or dissolved,
Flew in fire, or fain gathered daring resolve.

But the mortals—how quaint! They believe,
Or they doubt. Misconstrue, hallucinate, relay
Their assumptions down neurons like streetlines
Divine with tea leaves, incantations of rain.

Is it all the same? The struggle with nothingness
Explodes through a shame brain. Underneath
The bravadic exterior is the perplexity of living:
Fraught with taking and giving. Then, at the edge
Of incredulous hope—they remember the elements
Made them, a bright whimsy, an intricate trope.

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Reading notes

This poem is a musing on the physical elements that constitute all life forms. Since there is some difficult material in this one, here's some additional information on the lines.

Lines 1-6

(In coordination...a hint.)
.
Elements are always freely combining and separating to both create and destroy. The life forms composed of them (gestalted products) feel only hints of their volatile operations through the limits of sense perception.

Lines 7-11

(At the baseboard...projected through bone.)
.
Sentient beings are at the level of the baseboards, eating only the crumbs of omniscience. Moreover, we perceive unreal visions of impossibilities in our fantasies, such as grass growing in midair sustained by rainbow light. Incredulity is expressed that all these vivid dreamworlds are projected by the coarse elements (toyland projected through bone.)

Lines 12-15

(Imps & fountains...gasp of red air.)
.
Paints a picture of some of the fantastic scenes experienced in dream that feel so real, yet disappear at the death of entity-ness (gasp of red air depicts the divine spark exiting the organism.)

Lines 16-17

(Journaled the inclination...marked down in vain.)
.
We document our experiences in art, belief systems, and overall energetic imprint, only to later find it insipid, lacking in real substance, a passing vanity.

Lines 18-21

(Yet still, the elements...gathered daring resolve.)
.
Even though our attempts to explain reality inevitably fall short, the elements continue to enlighten us by their incessant operations.

Lines 22-25

(But the mortals...incantations of rain.)
.
Seen from the perspective of the universe, humans are indeed quite entertaining. They pass their errant assumptions and superstitions to each other, transmitting the errors through power lines of neurons (consciousness.)

Lines 26-31

(Is it all...an intricate trope)
.
The age-old question: "But what is the meaning of all of it?" Mentions the darker aspects of shame and despair that are concomitant with the sentient egoic construct. However, there is an unlikely hope in the remembrance that the elements wrote us into being. We were created as a bright, whimsical trope, ever-intricate microcosm of the totality.
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