Damaged Fractal Fractures
©May 17th 2022, Olan L. Smith
Collapse down, shrink, yet divide into a billion branches
Spread out across the nothingness in a trillion ways,
And it takes us with it in the matrix of splintered
Forms we discern, but can't hold into place―my god.
We can't trace our way backward or forwards, just
Now is all we have to comprehend, but it wavers,
One day one way, and another the next; text change
And we blame our recall not rooted in the corporeal.
Rich soils and weak vines cause failures, and one after
Another it's a disaster, and another, into the deep
Damaged fractals, fractured reality of split eternities, one
Atop another until only one is left to ponder. The black
Hole of holes is nothing but more fractures, more changes,
And the mind cannot grasp it, so, it must override the
Data, it discerns not what was, or is, or will be, and it only
Sees glimpses it can fathom, you are, I might be, it's a sham.
YOU ARE READING
Poems from the Quill, by Olan L. Smith
Poetry"Poems from the Quill" is where I place current works that don't fall into other collections. It is here you will find obscure poems that range from constraint to free-verse. I began this collection as a contest entry, years ago, for what was then t...
