"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...
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Push (a lipogram, no e)
@2016, Olan L. Smith
Push is foundation of
All habitations. In our scrutiny stands Push,
No Pull subsists—
My writing platform is firm to touch but thoughtfully
I say to you Push is an illusion,
Such an odd thing,
It hoodwinks us into trusting that you occur,
And robust faith is nothing.
In our now, its atoms colliding,
Who guards downward dirt churning, an unbridling
Of mashing bits, drawing atoms that smash with gusto
To find a Higgs for a nano of watching, and just a hints of
A god of mass, an actor that crafts us.
Why? Many days lost conning your spirit?
You, as cosmic void,
An illusion of a Joint Conscious Charm,
A visionary within a vision, an array of stains?
I ask, "What is Pull?" in this black void
Flowing against Push's Big Bang, and dividing
A vast castigation, a cosmos pushing out of nothing.
Is pulling strings and shrouds a yin without a yang?
What affords our body?
Do not risk all on this boson sought to push us,
Many thoughts abound as what forms a godly lack?
A/N: This poem is a lipogram created from my 2012 poem, "Children of Push," you can compare the two poems to see the difference in the meaning of the two poems created by leaving out the letter, e.
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