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Wordcore — Pointing at Pixels
Published: 2016-12-01 08:10:06 +0000 UTC; Views: 263; Favourites: 2; Downloads: 0
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Description
Pointing at PixelsSome are made of metals.
Some are made of clay.
Some are made of petals.
Watch them blow away.
Distance paints a picture.
Resistance meets a frame.
The pixels have their pixels;
The observer has the same.
You can watch them intermingle
Or (turning inward) intermixed.
Colors intertwined, not a one is single.
No man an island, no woman individual.
Each to the other, another is affixed.
No part can say "I stand alone."
'Tis hard to see the structure; stone buries stone.
Each pixel holds the other: mother, child, crone.
Your brother is my brother, every soul a loan.
The picture in the distance echoes my own.
Concentric ring, spiral, circle, cone...
Heart is heart. Bone is bone.
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Comments: 1
well, if you put it that way... *smiles*
i like how you've presented the idea, it makes it hard to disagree. perhaps uniqueness is just fluctuations, statistically insignificant? we humans are very good at seeing links where there are none; perhaps we also give the unique too much value. or perhaps it's just a question of scale, and we've chosen different ones.
on top of the idea, the beat of the poem works very well too, as do the (semi) rhymes and the language play.
thanks, for the parallel(-ish) writing, and the title. this was fun! *squeeze*
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