For the man with the tape

So you think you've got my measure,
Tell me where you think you'll place me –
Somewhere between caught and zen?
If you think you’ve got me taped,
Maybe between zen and empty,
You may find you are mistaken –
When you define me,
You destroy me,
Empty counting up to quirky,
You describe me
To contain me,
Quirky’s on the way to sporty,
You contain me
With your figures,
Sporty marks the way to nifty,
But my figure
Is my own.