Pythagmalion

There is Geometry in the humming of the strings,
And in the trial of life is equation left without the sole Variable,
And time the Line created by the series of intersections
That makes us forget the Unified Field.
There is an answer, where the x and the y intersect,
And the eternal irrational Variable calculates Perfection.
Consider that it makes no sense to experience Finite.
Consider, my ivory Galatea, when we count aloud our names.
XX, the thing that I value most, and pray to Venus.
I have this obsession, perfection, the string of intersections.
But consider where I have no intuition, there it is in my statue,
And you are but beauty, and in my logic I have none.
Your creative potential to the tool I shape you to,
Consider your attributes that I have not but need,
The difference is the discovery of perfection.
There is this fundamental level, consciousness,
And then an entire string of potential pondering and pacifying
The great creator, the thinker, into a reality paradox.
I am working backwards, follow me,
Geometry is knowledge of the eternally Existent.

Logan Norris

If you have any comments on this poem, Logan Norris would be pleased to hear from you.