The poet waits
for inspiration.

The philosopher dwells
upon existence.

Philosophy is normative: it tells us
what we're doing right
when we use a concept correctly,
what we're good at when know a thing.

Poetry is empirical: it tells us
what we're really seeing
when an emotion grips us, tightly,
whose power we are subject to.

We can distinguish lyrical poetry,
simple emotional notation,
from the epic, a poem containing
history, a diagram of power,

just as we can tell a syllogism,
a mere conceptual notation,
from a phenomenology of the spirit,
a world picture of the known.

There is only one thing
that ever happens.
It keeps happening.
Thank God.

4

A feeling is a proposition with a motive.

One loves her choices,
her tastes, and that she has some interest
in satisfying them.

In the beginning, it is said, there was
the deed. Indeed, a fact is but a deed
that's done. And a deed, in fact,
is but an act that's seen and told.

All this has been here
for a long time, and
many are now assembled
in this small space.

Machines are media:

lens, eye, focus,
lever, arm, pivot.

The wheel is real,
The circle, ideal.

Drum, ear, beat,
whip, skin, flog:

"Faith is immediate."