- He believes in the power of the objective lens. Maybe. -
His life is shattered,
his heart is broken,
inside he's burning,
but he trusts science.
"A microscope", he thinks,
"is a great tool for knowledge".
In the ashy morning light,
I sit aside and watch him:
dark circles around his eyes,
he slices with a diamond knife
and places tiny drops
on the clean surface of a slide.
Yeast that causes fermentation,
bacteria that make us ill,
in this process of observation,
he sees elegant complexity.
Although he does not see me,
he begins to understand
the digestive tract of a worm,
the structure of a feather,
just as I see the pattern of a lie.
He owns a wonderful collection,
a naturalist's dream come true
and under a glowing beam,
all is ready to make sense
in a drop of methylene blue.
With the right approach
and the appropriate equipment,
a green bottle of ethanol
and the pungent smell of formol,
life becomes so crystal clear;
pieces, slices, fragments, parcels
tell him all there is to know.
And with acute observation come
statistics, measures, symbols,
equations, graphs and diagrams,
all as parts of the same world.
Later in the afternoon,
he sits polishing the lenses,
eager to look, unable to see,
ignoring all his senses.
The eternal transference process of the human spirit, in which sublimation of impulse (and attendant compensatory psychological processes) provide a temoporal refuge for the mortally wounded Eros; for what is basic instinct arrayed against the vast and challenging complexity of the Universe? (Everything!). Not only enjoyed this very much, I have been there myself many times over the past decades. Fortunately, there's always one more tide pool to investigate and one more peak to summit when things get emotionally out of control. Très incisif et intuitivement astucieux, en tant que toujours!
K2
This poem has deep meaning. So often we neglect that which is most important... thinking we are really working on more important things. I loved the line "just as I see the pattern of a lie"
It spoke volumes to me of the perspective of the observer in this poem.
Cryssa
My classification: poeticus romanticus incurablis, in nebulas chimericas perpetuous. --your scientist reminds me of a poem by e.e. cummings --can't remember the name. It's like Sedat's paintings, all those dots -- your scientist looks so closely he can't see the whole picture. What a shame. --Charlie
Within the naked eye there are to views...one is the reality in which at times we don't believe....and there is science and all it's dicoveries, and still we don't beleive...it's reality...
He sees all except that which really matters. To some we are no more than an amoeba. Beyond each cell lies an eternity and one can never experience it if he never looks beyond his nose. Your poetry touches the heart and soul of the matter my friend. Always a pleasure reading you.
Robin Ouzman Hislop's poetry is certainly in dialogue with some of the key architects of the 'poetics of indeterminacy' – both the Modernist strands represented by the likes of Beckett and Stein, and the postmodernist strands represented, initially,
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K2
It spoke volumes to me of the perspective of the observer in this poem.
Cryssa
Life can be complex at times...
nice view of thought...
Art Sun...
He sees all except that which really matters. To some we are no more than an amoeba. Beyond each cell lies an eternity and one can never experience it if he never looks beyond his nose. Your poetry touches the heart and soul of the matter my friend. Always a pleasure reading you.
To visit this Den is always a pleasant learning time... "The Naked Eye" is a magnificent sample of what poetic excellence bears.
In admiration,
Andre Emmanuel Bendavi ben-YEHU
Fee