(09-26-2025, 02:09 AM)Deor Ana Log Wrote:  I just wanted to add that I find it ironic that Tun is mad and confused that someone is try to win an argument with platitudes and statements about humans in general, while he literally uses this technique in every argument he is in.

That is very unrealistic to say the least. It is oblique and uncanny. I have not been in any arguments, and I am not trying to 'win' anything. I have no 'technique' to speak of.

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(09-26-2025, 02:17 AM)rowens Wrote:  God created Jesus because Jesus was busy making himself. That's me.

There is no irony. Everyone talking in this thread is objectively aware.

Jesus was not created.

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(09-26-2025, 02:09 AM)Deor Ana Log Wrote:  I just wanted to add that I find it ironic that Tun is mad and confused that someone is try to win an argument with platitudes and statements about humans in general, while he literally uses this technique in every argument he is in.

This is bizarre, since I have not had any arguments, I have no 'technique' and have never tried to 'win' anything. It is oblique and uncanny of you to make these odd claims. In what sense is the execution of rational discourse the presentation of 'madness'?

Christ is Imagination. Memory is my left shoulder. An Unconscious is what I call flowstate whether it experiences itself as that or not. Jesus is a Character, Characters are the only Truth humans experience. Everything else is real. Christ is Jesus as Imagination. This is True as it is poetry.

Ya'll are trolling with this over the top language and religious imagery. This thread is making less and less sense, but I'm here for it because it's funny.

I'm only anywhere because it's fun. When it isn't funny, I'm not there, some shadow distortion is.

As I repeat: There is no Evil. The only evil is Irony.

That is Bad Luck.

There is a Devil, there is no Bad Luck or Evil. The Devil only exists in the details. Like the spider on the one dollar bill.

(09-26-2025, 02:51 AM)rowens Wrote:  Christ is Imagination. Memory is my left shoulder. An Unconscious is what I call flowstate whether it experiences itself as that or not. Jesus is a Character, Characters are the only Truth humans experience. Everything else is real. Christ is Jesus as Imagination. This is True as it is poetry.

Look I don't know why you are afraid to speak. I mean it looks like a total failure of confidence. I think maybe you cannot say anything meaningful because that would involve responsibility. You just don't believe in yourself. You seem to be saying that you don't believe you are good enough to engage in speech.

To follows others' rules is to fail. To not follow others' rules is to be punished or ignored.

To speak is to break Silence. To break Silence is to strengthen cause and effect. To live as if if this then that is to live dryly. That is all there is to say.

I'm breathing, that is speaking. To be satisfied with success in any sense is a failure to go further. To go further is to diminish.

I'm diminishing. That is compulsion.

Everyone is Responsible for everything that happens. If a car crashes on another planet or a murder takes place in India, everyone is Responsible. There is no free will, no choice.

There is this perfect situation.

Hello rowens,

Your thread is deviating away from the poem and into a discussion. I know you personally don't mind discussions, so I will assume you are not worried about this. However, as per the protocols, I can either move the thread to the discussion forum (or the arse, or the sewer), or I can leave a gentle reminder here that all posts on poetry threads in the poetry forums should be about the poem, and hope that from here the posts get back on track. If you have no preference, my default will be to move the poem to the discussion forum so that the flow of conversation can carry on unhindered. 

Thank you,
Quix

Discussion Form then.

We can discuss Demons and Words without having to make it about Poetry. Which it is . . . (said Anton Chigurh).

Thanks for the quick response, rowens. It has been moved.  Carry on.

Discussion 

As sundry as Kundry and the Vampire,
Smokey and the Bandit,
Garfunkel and Oates,
Speech abides through Silence.

The windmills are old friends,
and the piper at the gate
is the many and the dozen:

But Thirteen. 13 is the number of a Poet amongst an audience