SPECULAte

and reflect: for me
every thinking activity
implies mirrors.
The soul
is a mirror that creates
material things
reflecting the ideas
of the higher reason.

Maybe this is why
I need mirrors
to think.
Only humans comprehend
reflections:
it's the sign of reasoning.

I cannot concentrate
except in the presence of
reflected images,
as if my soul needs
a model to imitate
every time it wants
to employ its
speculative capacity.

It is my image
that I want to multiply,
but not out of narcissism
or megalomania,
as could all too easily
be believed:
on the contrary,
I want to conceal,
in the midst of
so many ghosts of myself,
the true me,
who makes them move.

These lines I am writing
should transmit
a cold luminosity,
as in a mirrored tube,
where a finite number of figures
are broken up and
turned upside down
and multiplied.
From mirror to mirror
the totality of things,
the whole,
the entire universe,
divine wisdom could concentrate
their luminous rays
into a single mirror.

Or perhaps
the knowledge of everything
is buried in the soul,
and a system of mirrors
that would multiply my image
to infinity
and reflect its essence
in a single image
would then reveal to me
the soul of the universe,
which is hidden
in mine.

God Himself, who cannot be seen
either by the body or by the soul,
allows Himself to be contemplated
in a mirror

~Porphyry (234-305AD)



OTHER POEMS...


Exception

Engulfment

Rearview

Descent

Setting the scene

Superstition brings bad luck

Ctrl+Alt+Del

No, perhaps not

Residual order

Contrapasso

Ashtray

Alcoholic accordion

End season

Uncoiling spiral

First World

Ultimate reassurance

Figment

Bay of Naples

Rotting Fowl

Dried up

Words in music

Celtic heather

Émigré

Contrast

Hopeful linearity

Heat seeker

Fathering stars

TrazommozarT

SPECULAte

Wishing a bridge

Bibliomachy

Avian sleep

Borgesian

L.U.C.A.

Cosmic Surplus

Choosing the Edge

Kissing shock

Quantum Superimposition

Middle Stance

Blade inward

Germinate

Throw

Infant Chant

I can't seem to find my way

Night verses

Respond

Gusts

Enema Blues

Pagis page

Insurgence

Sikelia Aetna

My journey

Only

Body odours

Applebud

Simile

Another You

Impalpable

Possibility

Íkaros envisioning

Cups

Prickly Magnet

Reversion

Cortège

Almost the same

Vast Colonies

Forked painting

Seeding

Wastage

Epitaph

Fear List & Nightmares
[restricted +18]

Vampyrus


Waterhouse"s Roses

Sorry, no comments are allowed
on this poesy blog, but
Daubmir is passionate for you
to discuss poetry with him
at any time you feel truly inspired...
You may forward a sincere
email to this address:

monozigote(AT)yahoo.fr
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He'll respond with the very same
ardour and force as you're able
to apply...

Merci bien!



Daubmir"s Rose


MAY

I

BREAK

YOUR

HEART

TONIGHT?


Rose Noire


The
Infinite
Divisibility
Of
Being
Where
Nothing
Is
Really
Connected
To
Anything
Else
Except
By
Language
As
You
Can
Always
Split
AtomoV
Into
Other
Levels
Of
Division
Down
To
Quarks
And
Electrons
And
More
And
No
One
Really
Knows
Anything
Very
Important...
Yet

Three Graces, by M Parkes - click to enlarge
Nothing fascinates me more
than the expanded reflection
of my spirit


What

Came

Before

The

Beginning

And

What

Will

Happen

After

The

End?



La Rose Noire de Daubmir


Not

only

is

nothing

good

or

ill

but

thinking

makes

it

so,

but

nothing

is

at

all,

except

in

so

far

as

thinking

has

made

it

so.

~ Samuel Butler ~