Tuesday, October 27, 2009

elusive.osi

' relic '

not even an iota
i am
of the earth
my whim is a mountain
splattered by the rain
slashed by a waterfall
grazed by the moaning winds
pierced by the grass
creation and corrosion
elude each other
the scree and the debris
allude to me
a jot and a tittle
pebble on the foothill
i'm the reliquary
of a sacred thought
that is life ..

/ original / zg

[ Ref:
Jot or tittle
A tiny amount.

Origin

The phrase 'jot or tittle' is somewhat tautological, as both jot and tittle refer to tiny quantities. It has passed into English via William Tindale's translation of the New Testament in 1526. It appears there in Matthew 5:18:

A jot is the name of the least letter of an alphabet or the smallest part of a piece of writing. It is the Anglicized version of the Greek iota - the smallest letter of the Greek alphabet, which corresponds to the Roman 'i'. This, in turn, was derived from the Hebrew word jod, or yodr, which is the the smallest letter of the square Hebrew alphabet. Apart from its specialist typographical meaning, we still use the word jot more generally to mean 'a tiny amount'. Hence, when we have a brief note to make, we 'jot it down'. ]

15 comments:

  1. I liked this very much. The whim being whittled down by earthly things. And so small, but how often we remember only the jots and the tittles!

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  2. Towards the end I was saying, "yes, but how can you (first person poet) run away?" Mountains are fairly solid, mostly their relief is to blow their tops.
    But then I got to your ending I was thankful, you could run away!
    ..

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  3. Brilliant poem...a wonderful take on the word elusive. I love your metaphors of the earth as well.

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  4. thanks for trying and letting me know you couldn't connect. I have trouble connecting with things sometimes too, especially posting comments for poems on OSI. I'd like to say something but can't get it to accept my comment, so I sit in wonder at my desk, hoping somehow the poet will know what I'm thinking!

    The reason I wanted folks to go to the link was because the poem was accepted for publication there and I really liked the way the poem was displayed on the page with the floating quarter above it. The poem went like this:

    Grandfather

    I longed
    for some love
    and he reached in his pocket
    for a quarter.

    Julie Eger

    Keep up the thought-provoking writing! It was a treat to visit your site! I don't always have computer access but like to check out the OSI site whenever I can!

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  5. I love how you reconcile to human scale and recognize the sacred in all. Beautiful!

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  6. You got me thinking with that poem...beautifully written!

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  7. we may be but an iota, a jot or tittle but as you show our dreams our whims can encompass a mountain or the universe.

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  8. Loved this one...
    grazed by the moaning winds....that was such a beautiful thought.

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  9. Splatter, slashed, grazed, pierced.....I hope you are okay? "of a sacred thought that is life...". Indeed. Nicely done.

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  10. firstly, thank u for ur visit loch !

    when a poet & a scotsman asks me something i must try & explain _

    - that the slew of verbs apply to the ~ whim ~ !

    - the theme deals with corrosion & creation ! ..

    ( that the stone of the mountain is a ' figment of fancy ' soft enough to be pierced by a blade of grass .. )

    oh ! just joking loch ! i know u know it all ! ..

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  11. Seems to me to be aware of being a reliquary of life is to live!

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  12. this is wonderful
    full of strength and vitality
    love for being and our planet. Thank you. www.bringingupsalamanders.blogspot.com

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  13. I read this one out loud just to hear the energy bouncing out of the poem. Thanks for giving the meaning of the words, love that.

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..namastey!~