A Crowd

A crowd standing
In a empty room
Moving through the emptiness
But touching every soul
In the space between atoms
In the imagination
Of the minds
Filling the space
Between the space
Air flowing in
Through an open door
Emptying the exterior
And filling the voids
Between the spaces
And the crowd
Appearing
And the room
Filling
And the Crowd
Breathing
And the souls
Disappearing

©2004 Hey Hey

Wow,
have you been smoking your tea again?

Ahhh, I see, you're supposed to smoke it are you? That'll save a lot of trips to the small room!

Hey Hey,

I'm worried about you.
I think it's time for what we Americans call an intervention,
(domestic, not international.)

Here it goes...

Ode to a Would-Be Tea Smoker
(by Shawn R, to Hey Hey)

No, no, no,
and again I say no!

What shape would you gain for your intake to alter,
Just to save yourself steps in your passing of water?

The quaffing of tea serves you kind elucidation
But then such, huffed in fumes, bides you mean hallucinations.

Though I exhort vociferous, I may not carry clout,
For the tea in no form has it passed through my snout.

But I'm earnest in fervor, and I trust you won't flout,
That a friend of a friend knows what I talk about.

So keep steaming your kettle and cool down the vile torch,
For your fine brainpan mettle, I adjure you not scorch.


(No need to thank me, you'd do the same, if you were me.)

S.

If I were you and I did the same, I'd expect you to thank me. So thank you! What was that for......?? Sorry, have to go....the teapot's caught fire!

Hang on a minute, tea or no tea, this was serious poetry!

Let me elucidate:

"A crowd standing
In a empty room
Moving through the emptiness
But touching every soul"

In the above, I am trying to describe a different view of the world to the one we use every day. I am attempting to see a little deeper than the superficial solidity of a material crowd. I am trying to see what matter is really composed of, the emptiness, the space. Then a bit of meta-philosophy; is this where we might find the human soul? Not necessarily the religious soul, but say, the mind.

"In the space between atoms
In the imagination
Of the minds
Filling the space
Between the space"

In the above, I reiterate the reality of matter, where mind might be, the importance of space in “solid� matter and the space between the atoms, which themselves are largely space.

"Air flowing in
Through an open door
Emptying the exterior
And filling the voids
Between the spaces"

Now I have set the scene with matter being mainly space, here one needs to imagine the room being as a vacuum. When the door opens, the old view of the world, the world of air and solidity is available to rush in, as air into a vacuum. This fills the void, the vacuum and spaces. Emptying the exterior is not quite true, but a bit of artistic licence.

"And the crowd
Appearing
And the room
Filling
And the Crowd
Breathing"

Now that the normal world is back again, the crowd reappears, the room fills with activity and the crowd breathing air.

"And the souls
Disappearing"

But now we are back to solidity and have lost the space, the space within space, the place where the soul was, and the souls disappear.

It's a shame, but it has nothing to do with tea!

nothing to do with tea?

sorry Hey,
the shame of the tea smoker is denial.

You're revealing to us altered states of perception,
and I shouldn't be worried?

tsk, tsk,

Another Boston tea party, eh?

All I know is I have been on the telephone with Hey Hey and he and I have been drinking our tea in liquid form the while (I need some now; it's cold in here!).

You write very well, both of you, and I find both the poem and this ensuing dialogue intelligent and enjoyable.

I understand the variations on the theme of tea, but the original poem really is quite a serious and worthy artwork, quite apart from camellia sinensis, and certainly from cannabis sativa.

As I DRINK my tea, I am pondering on this discourse, being helped along as I am by two small packets of Maltesers, and whilst I am alone in the house. And do you know, the poem is not worth it, the discourse is not worth it, but what is worth it, is the glorious sunshine outside, the blue skies, the autumn warmth, and the garden. The trees need pruning, the hedges need trimming, the grass needs another cut. What was that, the trees need pruning? And me with a new chain saw in the garage. And me with my checkered shirt on and a new tool belt. Ohhhhhhh....

I'm a lumberjack and I'm OK
I write poems all night
And prune trees all day
I put on my new checked shirty
And chain saw the avenue

Oh, I'm a lumberjack and I'm OK
Chain saw the avenue.......?????

(Small advert - It's Monty Python night on Sky TV tonight)