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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=530794" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Unincorporated Insights</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">What context contributes toward meaning? <br>What illusive patterns outline our thoughts? <br>What process prevents mindless careening<br>Into tangles of intangible knots—<br>Into the depths of deeply-rooted seeds<br>Of imponderable definition? <br>And what flower does theodicy breed<br>By the threat of holistic omission? <br>What cryptic mysteries do we express, <br>Though in traces of vagrant memories—<br>Perhaps causing us to hide and repress<br>Them beneath our transient reveries? <br>What codex—so voiceless—do we create? <br>What emergent grammar elucidates? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">What emergent grammar elucidates<br>The syntax of our juxtaposition? <br>Why must we meander and gravitate<br>Toward the pull of blank exposition? <br>We speak in indefinite articles, <br>Communicating as a formality? <br>Our dreams are overlapping particles, <br>Transposed over strips of reality.<br>Our intellects are woven by conflict, <br>Disproportionate threads that braid our lives.<br>Ideas coalesce to contradict<br>Where what we call logic attempts to thrive.<br>We design ignorance, always preening<br>The language that has been intervening.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The language that has been intervening<br>Interrupts the words we would like to say, <br>Mercilessly and stringently cleaning<br>Our voice, removing what viewpoints convey.<br>Therefore, we conjure the chiffon lexis: <br>A vagary of coded expressions<br>That dilute our colloquial axis—<br>Our terminology of discretion.<br>We relinquish comprehension and<br>Dilapidate whatever we might learn<br>In the grip of the Invisible Hand<br>Which guides us to our tenuous concerns.<br>All the while, idiocy saturates<br>With our illocutionary mandates.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">With our illocutionary mandates, <br>Why does anyone make sense anymore? <br>Verbally, our tongue only translates<br>All the talk that has been spoken before.<br>We erase our culture with social platforms.<br>Our lives are forced to conform to the contours<br>That more often confuse or misinform—<br>Drawing images we ought to ignore.<br>We are bound to the art of artlessness, <br>Secured to an emptiness that lingers—<br>Taught that obsession will lead to success, <br>Explaining ourselves through index fingers<br>That point to nowhere (nowhere completely) .<br>For what reason do we speak un-freely? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">For what reason do we speak un-freely, <br>Relegating ourselves to elision? <br>Our motives are spoken clandestinely, <br>Enshrouded by baseless omission.<br>As zombie hoards packed in a ballet box, <br>Groaning for a persona non grata, <br>Our disheveled culture carelessly stocks<br>Its thoughts of banal desiderata.<br>We replace facts with comforts and patterns.<br>We substitute our fate for the future—<br>Devoured like the many sons of Saturn, <br>Relinquishing our delineature.<br>We dismantle our bloodlines and unions, <br>Cauterized by divergent opinions.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Cauterized by divergent opinions, <br>We remain stagnant as our lives progress, <br>Similar to the hipolimnion—<br>With its waters still, aching to express.<br>The erumpent and sluicing fluids<br>Of understanding and dialectics<br>Flow in a stymied, wholly languid<br>Way when we need something apoplectic, <br>Something fluttering with violence and<br>Roaring with rage and swooning with romance.<br>Let us not pretend that we understand.<br>Let us be carried away as the advance<br>Cavalcades, washing out redundancy.<br>Are we blinded by irrelevancy? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Are we blinded by irrelevancy? <br>Do our apotropaic impulses<br>Blacken our natural radiancy, <br>Fading each ray of light as it pulses? <br>Why do we sous rature our honesty? —<br>Filtering it through the media's veil, <br>Fearing the release and the amnesty<br>We want, letting resignation prevail.<br>Why do we design newer deities<br>That deafen the voices that long to speak? <br>Why not relieve pressing anxieties<br>And articulate meaningful critiques? <br>There is no reason to be a minion<br>In the realm of persuasive dominion.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">In the realm of persuasive dominion, <br>We are grinding in mechanized fittings, <br>Smashing in the roll of pressing pinions, <br>Watching as our heads— crushing and splitting—<br>Massage into a rouge polish for gears.<br>Our thoughts slowly gloss over orange rust—<br>Now crusting with our suppurated smears—<br>As the accruements shift and readjust.<br>Why do we pancake our skin and our bones, <br>Flattening our pursuits and our passions? <br>Why melt each other to produce clones<br>Portioned to consume commodity rations? <br>As we instill and install these values, <br>Fallacies that we believe in argue.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Fallacies that we believe in argue, <br>Challenging each other—conflicting lies.<br>Veracity wallows out of our view—<br>In either a subterfuge or disguise.<br>We become confused, trying to translate<br>The coded hieroglyphics that carom<br>Over lofty expectations— to spate<br>Our process like a gyrating maelstrom. <br>Glabrous, fulgurated electrical<br>Strikes beam through the core of the whirling storm, <br>And the skies rain an antithetical<br>Slathering as the dry climates deform.<br>The weather is forced— through harsh coercion—<br>By the Holy right of their assertions.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">By the Holy right of their assertions, <br>We permit more for a selective few—<br>The few that would live by their dispersion; <br>The few that dispel, for others, virtue; <br>The few that show an eidetic éclat<br>In our too-nictitated memories; <br>The few preaching their secular Salat, <br>So that we may bow to their glories.<br>By the Holy right of economics, <br>We accept their pure Word as Biblical, <br>Building pietistic ergonomics<br>That subsidize on the unnatural. <br>They pardon their afflatus as it spews, <br>Disseminating what is maybe true.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Disseminating what is maybe true<br>Causes us to scatter ourselves like seeds.<br>Our promulgating ideals will strew<br>Themselves, rooting within our pseudo-needs.<br>We watch them knot and snarl beneath our feet, <br>Disheveling the ground on which we stand.<br>We watch the branches, gnarling with conceit, <br>Above our heads as they shadow our land.<br>We watch the ossified stem sprouting out, <br>Latching onto the world with a vice-grip, <br>Standing firm as cement, both thick and stout, <br>Causing terra firma to bust and split—<br>And, yet, it withers by our desertion<br>In the hysteria of exertion.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">In the hysteria of exertion, <br>We become moribund and bellicose—<br>Buoyant with undulating derision, <br>Palliated by a ravelment of woes.<br>Our muted, quiescent panic twinges, <br>Cascading over the peace we pretend.<br>Our intuition tears at its fringes<br>While we berserk, bicker and condescend.<br>The lacuna, the bedlam, the terror bursts <br>Like stampeding, bionic wildebeest.<br>We receive a chaos that seems rehearsed<br>Rather than a real entropy released.<br>As these trappings bellow in the still night, <br>The grays of thought trail to the blacks and whites.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The grays of thought trail to the blacks and whites<br>As if they were catfish crawling through dirt.<br>Sprawling though they are, they are out of sight, <br>Pressuring the mud to remain inert.<br>They prevent an untold calamity<br>By refusing to sift their skin forward, <br>Relaxing where there is conformity—<br>Though fear makes them thrash about and wayward.<br>Their quaking tremors of brash distemper<br>May break us from our rachitic foothold, <br>Hushing our antinomian whimpers, <br>Showing us that control is uncontrolled.<br>We tremble, not knowing we are their might, <br>Forming unincorporated insights.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Forming unincorporated insights<br>Makes us define ourselves by dramatics, <br>Inundating our mind's durable lights<br>For the tenebrae of post-pragmatics. <br>Our shadows shape like parabolas<br>Over the structures of our ignorance.<br>We provide each other a blank atlas<br>That maps the pathways of disappearance, <br>Landscapes of the nervus probandi—<br>Whatever we have lixiviated.<br>We compose in dissonant glissandi, <br>So all notes can be asphyxiated.<br>The whole time we ask: What is redeeming? <br>What context contributes toward meaning? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">What context contributes toward meaning? <br>What emergent grammar elucidates<br>The language that has been intervening<br>With our illocutionary mandates? <br>For what reason do we speak un-freely, <br>Cauterized by divergent opinions? <br>Are we blinded by irrelevancy—<br>In the realm of persuasive dominion? <br>Fallacies that we believe in argue <br>By the Holy right of their assertions, <br>Disseminating what is maybe true<br>In the hysteria of exertion.<br>The grays of thought trail to the blacks and whites, <br>Forming unincorporated insights.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Tim+Stensloff">Tim Stensloff</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=530794" data-title="Unincorporated Insights de Tim Stensloff" data-description="What context contributes toward meaning? 
What illusive patterns outline our thoughts? 
What process prevents mindless careening
Into tangles of intangible knots—
Into the depths of deeply-rooted seeds
Of imponderable definition? 
And what flowe..."></div>
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