The Metaphysical Theater with Shaky Shaft Thrown Hard
Away fairest creatures we desire increase, Anchor FM metaphysical poetry theater in motion now through sound Podcast.
Metaphysical Definition Theater articulation verbally transmitted by technology to vibrate now within
Metaphysical is a philosophical concept used in literature to describe the things that are beyond the description of physical existence. It is intended to elucidate the fundamental nature of being and the world and is often used in the form of argument to describe the intellectual or emotional state an individual goes through. It is deliberately inserted to make the audience think about the things they had never imagined. Although it is often considered a complex phenomenon, it, however, plays a pivotal role in advancing the idea of the text.
In literature, metaphysical is often used with poetry. It is a type of poetry written during the seventeenth century. Etymologically, “metaphysical” is a combination of two words ‘meta’ and ‘physical.’ The meanings are clear that it deals with the things that are beyond this the existence of the physical world.
“If they be two, they are two so
As stiff twin compasses are two;
Thy soul, the fixed foot, makes no show
To move, but doth, if the other do.
And though it in the center sit,
Yet when the other far doth roam,
It leans and hearkens after it,
And grows erect, as that comes home.
Such wilt thou be to me, who must,
Like th’ other foot, obliquely run;
Thy firmness makes my circle just,
And makes me end where I begun.
Now therefore, while the youthful hue
Sits on thy skin like morning dew,
And while thy willing soul transpires
At every pore with instant fires,
Now let us sport us while we may,
And now, like amorous birds of prey,
Rather at once our time devour
Than languish in his slow-chapped power.
Let us roll all our strength and all
Our sweetness up into one ball,
And tear our pleasures with rough strife
Through the iron gates of life:
Thus, though we cannot make our sun
Stand still, yet we will make him run.
O, how I long to travel back,
And tread again that ancient track!
That I might once more reach that plain
Where first I left my glorious train,
From whence th’ enlightened spirit sees
That shady city of palm trees.
But, ah! my soul with too much stay
Is drunk, and staggers in the way.
Some men a forward motion love;
But I by backward steps would move,
And when this dust falls to the urn,
In that state I came, return.
“When God at first made man,
Having a glass of blessings standing by,
“Let us,” said he, “pour on him all we can.
Let the world’s riches, which dispersèd lie,
Contract into a span.”
So strength first made a way;
Then beauty flowed, then wisdom, honour, pleasure.
When almost all was out, God made a stay,
Perceiving that, alone of all his treasure,
Rest in the bottom way
That thereby beauty's rose might never die, blooming I touch the wings of butterflies, they do not loose flight. Nor is my flight lost. Now I watch and do not touch, for this world does not need me.
But as the riper should by time decease, my life giving turns away from this world as it dies, I shall live forever with Christ. The riper reincarnated to again become a thief dreadfully not by necessity.
His tender heir might bear his memory: but eternal life needs no children, there are no children in heaven. There are none but me alone.
But thou, contracted to thine own bright eyes, I see within myself, you there dying along with that world that no longer gets the benefit of my attention. Die in your sin and be saved by default then.
Feed'st thy light'st flame with self-substantial fuel, and not be again blasphemous or perverse as all these dead creatures on the mud crust are always practicing in earnest.
Making a famine where abundance lies, you are rejected of Christ and your death is celebrated. Your panic is not metanoia. You do not know what should be done. You are lost.
Thyself thy foe, to thy sweet self too cruel.
