*poem* Just...now

Story by Glycanthrope on SoFurry

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#13 of Poetry

"Live in the NOW," they say.

"Now" Is the only singularity you can occupy.

It passes by and becomes something else

before you even have the time to describe it

But what if "now" was the only thing that was?

with no future to fear

and no past to mull over

or grow nostalgic about ?

Here's a poem about a never-ending

"now", and the poet's duty of catching

what is uncatchable.


THIS POEM HAS THE PROPERTIES

EXISTENCE WOULD HAVE

IF DEATH HAD NOT EXISTED

IF TIME ARRIVED AND DIDN'T PASS

LIKE A LIQUID, IT WOULD OCCUPY ALL

EVERY DIFFERENCE WOULD EXIST

AND CARRY ON AS TRUTH

ALL OPPOSITES COLLAPSE

AND EVERY EXCEPTION BECOME THE RULE.

ANYTHING WOULD HAPPEN

JUST A MOMENT AGO

AND SPIRAL INTO REPETITION

OF EXACTLY THE SAME VALUE AND VOLUME

AS THE EVENT THAT TOOK PLACE

JUST...

NOW

SET LOOSE WITHOUT DIFFERENCES ONTO THIS UNENDING PLANE

WE STAND POWERLESS

AGAINST THE PRESENT AND ITS REPETITIONS

EXCEPT BY GIVING IT NAMES

THAT (IN TURN) SWALLOW IT.

THE WORDS WOULD NOT EXPLORE THEIR OBJECTS OR MEANING

AND NEVER GAIN SOMETHING NEW THROUGH THIS

THE LANGUAGE WOULD LOSE ITS DUALITY

SYNTAX LOSE ITS ALTERNATIVE

THROUGH USAGE, THE LANGUAGE WOULD SOON BE FULFILLED

BUT ALWAYS AND ONLY AT THE BEGINNING OF THE SENTENCE.

ANY WORK WOULD DECONSTRUCT ITS OWN PRODUCT

AND DECONSTRUCTION BECOME THE NEW.

ANY PRODUCTION OF RELEVANCE WOULD BECOME AN IMPOSSIBILITY

WHEN EVERYTHING IS ALWAYS NOVEL

BUT LACKING REFERENCES

AND HAVING NO BACKGROUND TO SPEAK OF

NOT EVEN REPETITION WOULD BE RECOGNIZED AS SUCH.

MEMORY WOULD NOT EXIST

AND WE WOULD BE FORCED TO REPEAT BEGINNINGS

AND ENDS

FOR ONE NEVER ARRIVING ETERNITY

WITH NO WAY OF GROWING TIRED, OLD OR DYING

FOR WHEN TIME ONLY ARRIVES AND ARRIVES

WHAT IS LEFT TO DIE FROM?

IF TIME ARRIVED AND DIDN'T PASS

WE COULD GREET IT WITH NON-EXISTENCE

ONLY EXISTENCE ISOLATES TIME

AND MAKES UP FOR DIFFERENCES

THEN ESTABLISHES THE NEW.

THROUGH EXISTENCE ONLY,

WE PREVENT EVERYTHING FROM DISAPPEARING INTO ITS OWN NAME,

WE'RE POETS

WE FIGHT TO KEEP LANGUAGE

INSUFFICIENT