Tungstenturtle Poetry

Precision

Circles around, getting closer,
taking the effort in description,
to allow no doubt or opposer,
to move to a perfect depiction.

Starting from a platonic body,
using words full of bias,
like a music melody,
from a punctual start an alias,

is formed full of interpretation,
and we immediately react,
we start to build the imagination,
we start to decorating a fact.

Now the difficulty starts,
words of description to narrow,
as with every second similarity parts,
additional words added in a row,

All of them with bias stained,
details are growing as we precise,
a clearer picture is gained,
abstract, object or device.

Every layer of detail is effort,
to ensure mistake and assumption,
to avoid anticipation of all sort,
fact by fact a clearer fiction.

Precision is an illusion,
the strange idea of exact,
further details result in confusion,
it might lead us how to act,

Increasing the probability,
that a team acts in the same direction,
but to a nearly exact certainty,
only until a certain degree of precision,

from where our bias is taking over,
and with that believe is in control,
with further action we fix and cover,
so to successfully achieve your goal

Leave uncertainty in your precision,
leave room for interpretation,
to build a clear picture of the mission,
in a precise room of imagination.


There is not enough words and descriptions in the world to be 100% precise.
A clear line and an uncertainty within is much easier described. A curiosity of things.

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