Dear Aristotle

Regarding the doctrine of the mean,

you say if you keep to the middle mean

life will fall between vice and virtue.

What if you come a cropper and your middle flounders

What wanderings awake in your gut?

You say and I quote,

“I mean by, “a middle term of the thing” that which stands at an equal remove from each of the extremes, which is in fact one and the same thing for all; though in relation to us, it is that which neither takes too much or is deficient. But this is not one thing and neither is it the same for all.” (Bk2, Ch6, 1106a 30-34. Aristotle Nicomachean Ethics)

An unleashed thing was upon me,

A great clash coming like metal scraping against metal,

teeth gnashing and jaws breaking open in screams.

Pulled down and back and through myself.

A fierce force moved in the pit of my stomach,

as I met my measured mangled mean.

 

 

 

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Camel

I was falling, falling fast

nothing to hang onto all the trees

and things that reached out to grab me

broke away as I went down.

 

I going down, down, down

I hit land and met a camel.

So strange I thought it was going to bite me

with its ginormous teeth.

 

But the beast of burden was talking to me,

talking about

the end of the falling

that

it

was

a

journeys                                                                                                   beginning.

nudging me forward with his nose.

 

 

Change

 

I went for lunch in the Korean Supermarket.

I used to go there before, before

my diet, my job share, my course.

 

I note the crane that used to sway with the wind

is gone, a brand new building is there,

I note the bustle of the food court is the same

welcoming and warming.

 

I sit and sip my diet coke

carbonated bubbles popping on my tongue

contemplating change,

my sushi choice waiting.

 

I feel connected effervescent

alert to the idea of completion.

I sit sparkling silence in

the hurly-burly of the supermarket.

Likely Story

A Likely Story
The thought process made sense to me
of the non-sense situation Plato was in,
Timeaus, he had a story to tell.
Once a god made the world round

Without hands because world does not play catch,
without legs because world does walk,
without a body because world has no need, the maker said,
‘its knowledge of friendship with itself is enough. “

A likely story which makes sense because,
when God finished with his making we “must set him aside.”
Leave him alone while we wonder,
about a world  that knows itself.

 

Plato explains a footless world.

After the dream

The telephone cord came up from deep inside me,

unusual to say the least.  But there it was.

I was sitting at the desk  when it rang

How natural to pick up the phone and

listen.

I heard  a screech coming up the cord

the scream hit my ear hard.  like an electric shock.

I spoke in a child’s voice, ‘Mummy, I love you’.

Later a vicious burn appeared on my left cheek.

I had pressed the receiver there in disbelief.

 

 

Timaeus

Reading Timaeus

is like having a game of rock, paper, scissors.

Paper, covers rock

scissors cut paper

rock blunts scissors.

I think it’s the polyhedra 30-60-90 and  the 45-45-90 triangles.

The fifth element is how we play with fire.

 

Image result for timaeus greek polyhedra

Greyed out

Old woman with grey hair, grey eyes and grey clothes,

you showed me your Ipad.

The screen was blank.

Restart the device, get back those

vibrant apps.

Your life has lost color,  fill your life with high def.

Nothing came back just grey.

Old lady you look lost.

Grey seeping into your life.

Gathering  like storm clouds on your blank day.