Meanings
#1
The scales of human kindness are being used as a see saw
by a race in tune with the music pain makes,
their trousered bottoms filling each cup,
as legs overflow and push from the floor
while one group is raised and the other descends.

Their seperate numbers never change, only the effects
of their long sport, the eternal game
in heaven's playground. What is heaven anyway?
Turrets protruding from stillborn clouds,
a sky held down and impaled on an angel's hatpin.

I don't know what "meanings" are.
No human being ever has.
"We believe that we invent symbols. The truth is that they invent us; we are their creatures, shaped by their hard, defining edges." - Gene Wolfe
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#2
i enjoyed the read jack.
makes me think of war wasn't too keen on the heaven line as it feels a bit too cute...though i got the intent.
in fact the more i read it the more i enjoy it. for me the poem ends on the hatpin line which is excellent
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#3
I really like the metaphor, and how well you expanded on it. It's specially beautiful with you reading it
PS. If you can, try your hand at giving some of the others a bit of feedback. If you already have, thanks, can you do some more?
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