Contrast (Order and Chaos) (M.C. Escher), Sonnet # 448

My book of the first 200 of these sonnets is now available for purchase. Click here:
My Human Disguise.













Which of these is the impossible object?

I think the bottle, pipe and flowerpot

Are too much victims of serene neglect.

The string isn’t tied with a proper knot.

The opened can and the crumpled up box

Are both containers that don’t come with locks.

Nothing is whole in itself — the heel plate,

The cork, or the sardines someone just ate.

Even the tool (I don’t know what it’s for)

Needs some receptive substances to score.

You think I’m ignoring the obvious,

A crystal globe that’s pierced with pyramids,

An object of reflections marring grids.

The only impossible things are us.

Convex and Concave (Escher), Sonnet #167

Geckos stick out forked tongues at each other
In their race to the top of rounded stairs,
Where they'll disappear because nothing's there.
Men climb ladders to trumpeters. Mother
Seeks to fill her empty basket with air.
Banners state the geometry of the day.
The man near the dry fountain sleeps his life away;
Because he can't understand a thing, he can't care.
Each window, pillar, arch, and capital,
Each wall, riser and tread, each finial,
Was hauled into place by now-frozen block
And tackle, which the builder left behind
(Should he someday return). Here there's no clock,
Few shadows, no lights, only double bind
Architecture, mind alleys of the blind.