Quantum Strings

[tectak]

This is the harp of the world,Sorry, leanne et al. Not for me. Furniture World, Leather World, World of Windows, Harp of the World. No.
with a song that died before starsPeople-song.....instrument-tune
dimmed, vibrating its tiny filaments,What?
choices filtered through harmony.What, what?

There is no possibility
that does not collapse,This is a Boris about which I could not fail to disagree with you less
as cancer consumes you
like a thousand hungry worms.A sudden leap from what was looking like a metaphysical start. You are being led by your Muse and she leaves a trail of discarded old near-cliches which yiu are greedily picking up and trying to use. The "thousand worm" death is much used....often by me!
We too burrowWe two burrow or we,too, burrow?

to places thought firm. The Earth
remains hollow, What! Who sez? A metaphor MUST clarify not obscure by mistruths.
an apple without core,
our minds scooped clean.Connect the following. A hollow earth, a coreless apple and a mind cleaned by scooping. It is not easy, todd. Not easyat all.

The cycle repeats:What cycle? I see no cycle
infinity to infinity
world without end,Gobbledygook to the end. Turtle on turtle all the waydown
as the theologians say--
like the graying sky,
light suffused with darkness,
shadows on a bright mirror."Turtle"

~~~

Edit: Made some slight edits from Leanne's comments

From Leanne's surrealist exercise here: Thread

Now I know a thing or two about surrealism....OK, the marijuana and Dali kind, but when it comes to poetic interpretation of the oftimes uninterpretable it is important that you make clear what you are CLEAR about. Imagery cannot be left entirely to the reader without simply dispensing with the poet. I was not left whimsically in thought reading this but was acutely aware that it was "formula" verse. I can speak freely on this because most of my efforts in this genre were GREAT when written but by just after breakfast were binned. Please remember that I am commenting on JUST this piece and NOT on your efforts, todd. The subject is difficult to handle.....E A.Poe struggled with it all his life and nly managed a couple of convincingly readable works in this genre. LIGEIA comes to mind.
But see, amid the mimic rout
A crawling shape intrude!
A blood-red thing that writhes from out
The scenic solitude!
It rithes!-It writhes!-with mortal pangs
The mimes become its food,
And the seraphs sob at vermin fangs
In human gore imbued.