Enigma

Multidimensional Poetry

"Enigma" a Multidimensional Poetry Collection

Beyond Acrostics

Enigma is the first book I wrote of later classified multidimensional poetry. In 1997, I fell in love with my neighbor and wrote some poetry for her but felt dissatisfied with the verses as nothing seemed to convey my feeling with enough power. Dissatisfaction led to writing more physically layered with meaning to achieve uniqueness. Ironically, the writing would go unnoticed because the girl disliked reading.

This writing form forms in love and deep-rooted scorn, starting in 1997 when several academics negatively reacted to the work. I never tried to publish the book, and for a decade, I made feeble efforts to refine the material. In truth, the book was not horrific, and I allowed the opinion of a few people to dissuade me in my goal. In 2018, I returned to Enigma and decided to publish the poetry in a short book categorized as multidimensional poetry because of the writing’s nature.

I define multidimensional poetry as a minimum of two poems interlaced to form a diverse subject perspective. Multidimensional poetry is not acrostic or anagrammatic, although these elements appear often. Rather two or more complete poems construct a single poem. The inner poem (the one most embedded) holds the core idea, while the outer poems explore themes or perspectives. The poetry is not linear because the poems align recursively, supporting the central concept. Much flexibility exists in the poetry layering, and the core concept could funnel in or out, among other forms, which ultimately, I believed the form provided more perspective, such as showing dissonance, conflict, or plot elements.

The form evolved from anagram play, such as in this opening poem in Enigma,

Dawn ascends, withering night
Another word I can’t write
Words write of their own accord
Never without a discord.

This reveals as,

Dawn ascends, withering night
Another word I can’t write
Words write of their own accord
Never without a discord.

These anagrams gave way to the first multidimensional poem:

Ciphers I.

Take these hands, they’re waiting for you
These fingers struggle for verse that’s true
Lines scribing affection’s war for you
They are the hands of the fighting man
Are they battered and beaten enough?
More built for war than poetic fluff
Yours is the love causing greater war
Than any love campaign waged before
Mine is the fight for rhyme perfection
But verse truth clashes with deception
To elaborate will not avail
Tell you my love condemns me to fail
You surround me at night haunting me
In silent, writing verse’s secrecy
Verse is a curse my heart can’t contain
The words explode where emotion’s reign
Way of the poet; the way of pain
My fight stalemates in a battle wall
Heart of the Fighter –– to you I call
Beats like a war drum without reply
For you I stand, in readiness to try
You don’t come; loneliness takes its fee
Is fear what consumes and hollows me?
To wield my hands, I wish war to be
Combat that’s mortal pays faster fee
The life given is a Warrior’s Way
Simplicity is death’s better Way
Of my heart’s affection so denied
Words can’t convey the way my soul died.

You can seen the inner poem easier this way,

Take these lines; they are more yours than mine
But to tell you in verse the way my heart beats for you
Is to combat the simplicity of words.

Several problems presented themselves later with formatting, which can be difficult with any poetry in the reflowable digital formats used today. I would not encounter these for a long time because I originally wrote the book in cursive. (One of the last things I hand wrote.) The first issue appeared when a friend criticized the work as having no purpose since you can't see the messages. This criticism launched me into formatting the work (as I did above) to make the messages visible, which drew more criticism for stealing the discovery process. Sadly, the issue became even more problematic when trying to show the dimensions of the more complicated text using formatting.

This is the tying and untying of our cipher
Is not the song of love the same song of the Piper?
For have I not followed your love song in blind musing,
You dropped a wild note in lyrics of verse enticing
I sought your poetry’s truth and rhyme across my life
Created in me a relentless poetic strife
This turmoil erupts, blazes, and rages to escape
Art of poetics drives me into obsession’s rape

Is not love’s quest to prove what the heart knows to be true?
This heart beats, trembles, and cries praying the truth’s in you
Not a paragraph, sentence, or word could I relate
The derivative thoughts from poets both present and late
Way of the Poet- the love that poets learn to hate

The mundane words of the philosophers and teachers,
Way of the spiritualists, way of the preachers
Of all the romantics who so ardently professed,
My heart is true,” and believed and swore and so confessed,
Soul of Love is a fleeting spirit of emotion,
The way of love is found when seeking non-devotion
Way to Love is systemic soul superb symmetry,
To find your one, true, perfect love look for harmony
Your perfect mate does eternally for you await
Heart of the Lord your God is the only heart to sate”

Way of other men’s tired poetries are not for me
Of derivative thoughts I won’t entertain or see
The easy timeless answers float on impotent wind
Verse is the curse, the lover’s sin that claims no quick win
That struggle for truth standing against the dying wind
Is this losing fight for truth not the worst of all sin?
My soul corrupted; polluted in fairy tale belief
Curse of the Romantic lacks promise for love’s relief

Poetry’s dead, it choked on love while singing in vain
Now my soul turns away averting bitter disdain
The thought of love that was within me carelessly sown,
Seed of belief like a wild weed unattended grown
Of love’s absolutism and pureness that must be true
Our souls will be together as one,” they claimed so true,
Conception of love is a dream that is always true”

Made like a predictable play that’s overly read
With this lover’s talk my heartstrings break and soul falls dead
The thought of my past true lovers and faith’s Dove that fled
Marriage lost no matter the faith I thought I believed
Of our true love’s purity that could not be deceived
Us, I remember fantasizing eternally,
In a timeless relationship perpetually,
Fiction always grinds to its end eventually

Reading the first word of each line forms a poem, and then you would read the underlined word that starts each stanza to know the inner most poem. The formatting made publication difficult, which felt like a losing battle since no one appreciated or saw the inner poetry when reading, but this was not the worst problem.

I want to go on the record as saying, "I blame Whitman." That bastard's influence caused me to write in free verse too long.

All joking aside, my liking for free verse kept me from developing metered poetry, which made multidimensional writing a chaotic jumble without a pattern or rhyme scheme. Above is my attempt to meter the poetry, which I believe failed because creating a true meter would require rewriting inner and outer poems. When I attempted the correction, I began destroying the poetry's meaning and stopped. The fragment above highlights the lack of meter, but in the book, uneven stanzas and inconsistent rhyme scheme glare at the reader.

I shelved the project for a long time, unable to solve many problems, and returning decades later, I tried to make coherency corrections but will make no further content changes. This project taught me that free verse might have too much freedom, limiting the expression's artistry. Multidimensional poetry came from my struggle to distill human experiences, beliefs, and emotions into a few lines of poetry or prose, but a connected train of ideas seems to require some pattern or structure. I remain unsure; hopefully, you will decide.

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"Enigma" a Multidimensional Poetry Collection
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