Heart String Theory
Dimension 0: From the void , the point of my existence.
Dimension 1: The line - the big I. I am.Dimension 2: Fragments of being. My mind is split, my heart is broken. Continents drifting apart on a map
Dimension 3: Turning in space. Your image frozen. A collection of movie stills.
Dimension 4: The life I lead. My tube connects with yours, intersecting at stations.
Dimension 5: Choices made. Or not. I married you. I never met you - I turned to pick a flower as you picked another.
Dimension 6: Hairs on an anemone's tentacle. In this life I say hello as I walk past you, arm in arm with Jimi, Albert, Marilyn and Mary.
Dimension 7: The doors of my first infinity shrink to a dot. I don't always find you. The timing is all wrong on most paths in this universe. I die in so many ways.
Dimension 8: Different beginnings, different endings, different infinities, different universes. Mysteriously we are still connected.
Dimension 9: As I lower myself to search for you I crumple and fold, falling from one eighth dimensional infinity to another, forever.
Dimension 10: Nowhere else to go. All our possible possibilities and impossible impossibilities become the dot above the i in time and infinity. Our heartstrings vibrating in the tenth dimension create our subatomic existence.
In the mirror of your eyes I see me.
The Unknown version
Crunchy Weta Version
A fantastic animated overview of the eleven dimensions
Labels: electronica, existentialism, experimental, experimental music, free mp3, free music, kiwi music, music and poetry, NZ, nz music, nz poetry, philosophical poetry, philosophy and music, philosophy music, poetry, Science, science music
posted by Crunchy Weta at 5:20 AM
25 Comments:
Talk about your elegant universe
Ozy - You've read Brian Greene then? It was one of the most challenging books I've ever read--I had to really slow down for the last quarter!
If you have got this far, maybe you can help me.. does this work better without all the Dimension # stuff..ie
From the void , the point of my existence.
The line - the big I. I am.
Fragments of being. My mind is split, my heart is broken. Continents drifting apart on a map
Turning in space. Your image frozen. A collection of movie stills.
The life I lead. My tube connects with yours, intersecting at stations.
Choices made. Or not. I married you. I never met you - I turned to pick a flower as you picked another.
Hairs on an anemone's tentacle. In this life I say hello as I walk past you, arm in arm with Jimi, Albert, Marilyn and Mary.
The doors of my first infinity shrink to a dot. I don't always find you. The timing is all wrong on most paths in this universe. I die in so many ways.
Different beginnings, different endings, different infinities, different universes. Mysteriously we are still connected.
As I lower myself to search for you I crumple and fold, falling from one eighth dimensional infinity to another, forever.
Nowhere else to go. All our possible possibilities and impossible impossibilities become the dot above the i in time and infinity. Our heartstrings vibrating in the tenth dimension create our subatomic existence.
In the mirror of your eyes I see me.
At this moment I love the poem just as it is, with the numbers!
Leigh :)
Me too o crunchy one, Leave the numbers and all! In the overview it has a nice sense of the exotic and mysterious this way. Liked it very much.
OK, Will leave it as is . Thanks Leigh and Russell.
I agree... Keep the format as is... Nothing is more telling of an artist's intentions than the slippery willingness to conform to the norm.
I keep coming back to this poem, it blows me away, it is inspiring - I bow down at your feet :)
I would personally go with the altered version. The numbers hold appeal but I think ultimately unnecessary and distracting to the work. It's like numbering your layers (or as Shrek would put it, the layers of an onion)
Cake has layers, everyone likes cake...
Sorry, got distracted.
The revised version has more of a flow but also a sense of mystery, of the ethereal.
Well, numbers or no numbers I love that last line. It brings it all together.
Lovely and whimsical metaphysical journey. The last line is thought provoking:
"In the mirror of your eyes I see me.
i still don't get it
zenjcl
Can't help but keep thinking about parallel universes - I guess the closest anyone gets is to have an identical twin.
Or an army of clones!
Or maybe dreams.
I like it either way. Some good imagery mixed with some very deep introspection. Will have to keep reading to get it all (as with most of your stuff). Have a great day!
Bob
Poetryman.. me conform?!! It wasn't really about conforming, I just thought that listing the dimensions was perhaps a bit obvious, I could have indicated it in the title (eg Heart strings in 11 Dimensions). In that sense they add no real meaning to the poem (to which end I agree with Ozy's comments), but on the other hand the highlight the more scientific side of the poem.
Shirley and Danny - I can't claim to have invented that last line, but I thought it fitted here. I have no idea who thought it up, but I remember being at a Hippy festival (Confest) in the middle of nowhere on the Murray River in Australia. In the mornings a large group would gather and form into two rings one inside the other , facing each other. We then walked around looking into each others eyes and chanting that as a kind of mantra/meditation. This was followed by an enormous group hug where everyone hummed like bees, a collective hive. It was an experience.
Leigh - me too.
Bob Thanks again . I hope you and Rohn get there :-)
Cheers
Glenn
I remember that you had mentioned this (group) experience to me. I would have loved that, too....seeing each other's differences, yet vibrating with unity and celebrating the oneness--facing each other as mirrors, peeking into the universe that we hold in ourselves (at least this is how I see the universe as we had discussed before in one of your poem's comemnts section).
The numbers define the different "layers of the cake" and am not bothered with it at all. The desriptions that each number transport me to another world. I felt like a mini-me in ME.
Brilliant, Glenn!!
.----mini-candy---.
This poem is chimerical (I believe is the word). This organic animal that changes shape every time I read it. Sometimes it's existential, sometimes sensual and erotic, sometimes playful with its pop culture and theory.
But always a little breathtaking.
(or maybe it's just my everchanging moods that influence my interpretaion).
btw: there is hullabaloo out there about a 11th dimension. i'm still stuck on 3.
Quick question: Jimi H., Albert E., Marilyn M., but Mary who?
Mary M - was just for a bit of religiosity and a larger time jump.
Regards the 11th dimension...they are all here.. the first one is named dimension zero then there are 10 more = 11
(do check out the video on the link at the bottom -it's really good )
Cheers
Glenn
I was thinking of his mother Mary. Close.
Video is quite helpful.
lol... just as likely!
Excellent. I should have been here sooner. Better the Brian Greene graphics, more sense-able than Pickover, and more inciteful than a red shifting Suskind?
<<< O >>>>>
The numbered dimensions in this poem create a direct metaphor to string theory in physics. If you were to exclude the numbered dimensions in this poem, you would loose the metaphor to a mathematical model pointing at the fabric of our universe. The opposing argument is that if you remove the numbered dimensions from this poem they still exist and I believe they do as well however, the dimensions are now implied only in the context of verbal language as opposed to verbal language and mathematical language, or really, I should say a mathematical aesthetic is implied. (Dimensions are a mathematical construct) … Bottom line: for heavens sake leave it alone It is wonderful as it is.
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