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Vert
"You can know the name of a bird in all the languages of the world, but when you're finished, you'll know absolutely nothing whatever about the bird... So let's look at the bird and see what it's doing - that's what counts." Richard Feynman.

Age 41, Male

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Something to remember

Posted by Vert - May 5th, 2009

Jesting, I look, at the puzzles and jigsaw,
Outwardly obvious, I look again, as if Calvino,
Not obvious anymore, the false should dispel,
And I cry it does not, truth hidden like a tomb

The conclusion, I surmise, is that it is all pretension,
How else to explain, my failure in multiple strata?
And yet, I stop there, lest I lose my worth,
Not going forward, for such lies, would lead to regret,

But if the end is at first, and of course, vice-versa
Lost from my way, I can only hope for cooperation
Of the one I address, and much I'd forgo
Waiting for the answer, such is my hajJ

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SupraAddict

You're wearing a mask, one of glee,
To hide your puzzlement and sympathy,
Seeking to find, yet reaching abrupt conclusion,
You'll see through blind eyes, resolve your confusion

Vert

As I read your careful words, I try to digest them with haste,
But I wonder if you'll understand, or if here it's gone to waste,

The message hidden within, and maybe outside at the same time,
For no clues I've provided here, it's target hidden in the lines.

In truth this wasn't the first place, I posted this poem to be seen,
In fact I first put it before, the eyes of the one I was trying to glean.

So perhaps I should provide you a clue, though I feel you have seen the truth,
But as a precaution I'll give one to you, in case that you've not reached the sooth:

Seek forth the first of each one, and then make a 180 turn with speed,
And collect the last of all that there is, and then <no wait> that's all that you need.

I end by reflecting, on you words of wise,
For if the hidden you found, then much truth I surmise

For indeed I became lost, searching through my suprize,
But I've yet to decipher, what you mean by blind eyes.

SupraAddict

Such as a dog barks, your prophecy is based on predictability,
Although following it was much delay, for time is not my utility.

In a desperate search to find an answer, many reject,
The possibilities that transfer a plausible regret

Due to unforeseen elucidation that shines, which we simply can't comprehend,
Eyes closing, we create false hope to answer the questions that afflict us,
Does it call for such justification, that to us the sky should send?
Or do we leave alone such answers to questions that for years, tricked us?

Though, take this not as a fallacy
this is but the nature of humanity.

I fall into the trap, on a diminished range
lost I've become, I feel I cannot change

Isn't it amusing, that a conclusion rewards in many of ways,
to those who distinguish light through the cloudiest of days,

So it is I this time that must ask you, for lost I am, how have you seen?
To become found again, is a difficult task, even for someone so green

Vert

I confess my inadequacy, and ask for you're indulgence,
For I'm lost in the phrases, you construct with such prudence,

Do you speak of the hidden, that I alluded before,
And that you failed to observe it, despite my outpour?
Or are you trying to help me, and explain what you meant,
When you spoke of the eyes, cause of my torment?

If you mean of the first, then without hesitation,
Let me present the answer, but without much elation:

I recently played, a most wonderful game,
Where time you control, within the constraints,
A most joyful game, the name being Braid,
Provoking emotions, and many essays,
And in the mighty splendor, of the post-game delight,
I opted to please, the creator of such insight,

With no other talents, I could delve with my strengths,
The poem I wrote, and went to great lengths,
So that the first of each line, would spell out his name,
When read in a sequence, but that's not all I claim,
For take the last letter, of each single line,
And backwards you'll see, his name then align.

This structure I opted, in an attempt to please,
Symbolically representing, the game's many jorneys.
I posted this poem, unto his site,
No response I received, so I decided t'was right
To post it here, so that I did not forget,
The effort I made, and live with no regrets.

So no more secrets, from me you now find,
The truth now laid bare, no more confined.

But if knew all of this, before I did write,
Then the second you meant, so forgive with hindsight.
And I ask for reciprocity, and help if you can,
Please explain what you meant, with the 'eyes' beforehand.

For I assumed that you meant, in your first reply,
That you understood my plight, which consists of a cry,
For I still seek the truth, behind the game Braid,
For the story is told, ways that pervade,
Its meaning throughout, but without being clear,
So I beseeched Mr Blow, for his help so that the truth may appear.

<Whew!>

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