Geometry

[dukealien]

Geometry


The world is woven widershins
with widowed webs of spider silk
all silver sunshine, steely glass
intent to trap, its trackways bright
concatenated cables, spun
delight the eye with islands wrought
on air by tireless spinnerets.

Our world’s a web of writhing threads
connecting, coupling every point
with every other thought to be
extant in any sense at all,
each one related, first of two.
Then each three, taken all at once
form triads, circulating strands
in two directions, ‘round the points
of each trilateral thus formed
just as those single two-point strands
go either way.

                Past triads then
to quads and quints, progressive paths
around and through the universe
of points conceived until we reach
the final figure which enfolds
each single locus.  Are we done?

Not yet!  Aside from running on
that final loop the other way
it’s not the only possible
connecting all.  Change order once,
change once again, the chosen course
is altered consequentially
each meaning subtly different.

So spider time ties life to lore:
your hand, the knocker, my front door.

[next]

Your poem tessellated the hell out of my brain.
So much so, that my neurons have become irregularly mapped.

Cool!

[Leanne]

I love this!  The meter is flawless, which is my first delight; I particularly enjoy the break between S2 & S3, maintaining the tetrameter.  This is a glorious conceit that's a pleasure to read aloud, and I have nothing but praise.

[billy]

it's like the glass bead game in a poem using a spiders web, a door knocker, and islands. the poem connected with me.

[dukealien]

Glad readers found this enjoyable - it was fun to write and  (as commenters have been too polite to notice) putting on the brakes to bring the runaway conveyance to a stop was about the hardest thing about it.  Luck of the draw:  it could have been about cotton candy (shudder).