|The poem is not so much the source of meaning or
|beauty, but affords the experience of revelation to that end.
I once spent a week on the island of Patmos where Revelation was written. I
was thinking of rewriting it. But the tour round the monastery, all arms and
knees covered with old blanket to show respect, and a trail of silver to
mark the progress of Bonkers John - who seemed to have a limited movement
repertoire rather like a logo turtle - was rewrite beyond compare.
_And here you see the hole in the rock where the blessed John laid his
head each night_.
A bright spark said _What about that crack in the roof of the cave? I
suppose that was where God opened it to let John see Heaven and his
revelation_
_Almost certainly_ replied the young man leading us, very seriously
That's what you get when you start crediting and discrediting people -
_To what good end did their lives amount?_ my dear Glaucon.
Myth and cobblers and restrictive systems
|As a poem by Yeats will never be vanquished. It is a legitimate form of
|life as anyone or anything that has ever existed.
How does one vanquish a poem?
Why would one want to?
Who legitimates life forms?
Why?
Unless _As a poem by Yeats will never be vanquished_ is a _new sentence_,
what are we talking about?
L
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