Breaking out of the box of logic

With halting, gasping words I struggle to write and express myself through rational, direct states of order. Catching at every intersection, getting lost in the vast puzzle that is philosophy and logic. I try to make sense out of a world that is nonsensical. Henry Bradley, a senior editor for the Oxford Dictionary said this about philosophy, "Not that I despise philosophy or philosophers; but I feel that the universe of being is too vast to be comprehended even by the greatest of the sons of Adam." Whenever these philosophers climb deeper and deeper down into the repeating, circling rational that is our mind and that is our world, they lose sight of why they are here in the first place. The world is wonderful, large, and strange. We are creators every day, we have the power every day to discover and liberate ourselves through expression. Beautiful, dazzling, gleams of light crack and chip away at my psyche. Monuments to old philosophers and ancient relics is replaced by visions of hot air balloons manned by pterodactyls, leaping globs of light that bounce off each other and fall back down to the ocean from whence they came. Poetry is fascinated with the sensical as well though, the ordinary. Bringing an old, dusty, forgotten memory to the surface, and shining it in a new light. Stevens talks about the first time that you look up at the sky and notice how beautiful it is. Stevens writes,

"It is easy to suppose that few people realize on that occasion, which comes to all of us, when we look at the blue sky for the first time, that is to say: not merely see it, but look at it and experience it and for the first time have a sense that we live in the center of a physical poetry, a geography that would be intolerable except for the non-geography that exists there-few people realize that they are looking at the world of their own thoughts and the world of their own feelings."

Each moment is piled onto each other, waiting to be taken apart, unpacked, and examined more closely. This is what the poet does. This is his or her philosphy, not the analyzing of what is a mind, but the reflection of what is a moment. How can one express and remember a moment and its beauty through words and expression.