Empirical Spherical

In the sphere where clouds are formed

How high? Out of eye-

sight

Is where mind over matter mixes its

Potion

Something

from nothing-

Empty

As a periwinkle sky

filled purely with a howling wind

that you can feel in your

Bones

like rain

and gravity, the weight, and desire of

Still... 

the plane pierces through the dark wall

and

Nothing was there

After

All.

Painting by Nesterov, The_Nightingale_is_Singing_by_M.Nesterov_(1918,_priv.coll), in Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.

Magnets

True to form

February astounds

How the stars and planets 

        align

For the sky 

       moods

Atmosphere as in

Invisible rules.

Where one pauses

suddenly and 

Often to notice 

The unseeables and

         unmentionables

Or as quiet and mystical

as the snow 

          topping the distant 

Ranges

And dissolving

Time

         Marches on. 

Painting by Albert Bierstadt (1830-1902), 'A Storm in the Rockies' c. 1866 in Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.

Flash point

When ideas
hit air
they turn from blue to red,
originating from the short wavelength
inside
to form long low rollers of crimson tide
depositing turbid drops
of inklings.

The idea
tries to crystalize
along the smooth open facet
trying to adhere to open wounds
only to become
solid and reformed.
Ages ago,
raw material was re-collected and
re-presented as pure, a commodity
of our invention.

A single blinding glimmer,
like a square grain of sand
may find itself
a fully rounded pearl
over time and under toes
we find this same potential
scattered across elemental
boundaries.

Carbon in cubes
could become a diamond,
coal, a mote of dust, or Us
bearing the weight
of six million atmospheres
while making light
of such intense pressure
to create beauty
from conception.


Painting by Karel Dujardin (1622-1678) , 'Allegory' c. 1663 in Public Domain. 

Post: Meridian

What happens at night
to the air?
What is this
chemical cocktail
we absorb through osmosis,
take in-minus the photons
that cause thoughts to
sink
so heavily
and their intentions
stand so tall?

In this darkness,
we witness,
the end of days
and feel time
reeling
felt more forcibly by
the ever-changing set of
constellations that arise
in our latitude, or even-more
so by the
nocturnal notions as in
phases of the moon making
destinations
always
revolve around us.

By blending into
these dim hues,
our blue veins
resemble the Empyrean skies or the
dirty paint water in a glass jar,
wherein, all
blends, naturally
together to visit the heart.
This is all right.
It is only a subtle shift
in tone and pressure.
The blood always finds its
dew point.

These feelings will all
evaporate
with the sun-
rise.


Painting by Edwin Henry Landseer, 'A scene from A Midsummer Night's Dream' c. 1848-1851 in  [Public domain].

The light from stars

The sun had yet to rise
Still; inevitably it occurs
to us
it will never be the same
when we embrace this day
that tries to run away
from us

Not to notice

A sky
contains hope
levitating
as atmosphere,
permeable to light and
always open
to being caught
unaware
but ready

like the eyes
that see from here. 


Painting by Paul Klee, ;Horizon, Zenith and Atmosphere' c. 1925 in Public Domain [CC0].

Atmosphere (with a teenager)

The light from her eyes had grown in darkness.

Her pupils emulating black holes...

I wanted to lighten her

dark mood,

so I showed her a picture from far away,

the moon-detailed.

Why is it so dark out there? She sees Nothing.

Why is space so dark? She gazed at the photo

a moment more.

Reflecting a moment-

Dark Matter, I retorted.

As opposed to Light Matter?

Yes, but not light enough

to see the difference,

I replied.

But this space in here is light.

You're right. Energy.

Energy? All of it, I nodded, Electricity.

She then sighed laboriously,

I heard the dark part is expanding?

Likely. Nobody hears it

happen. No body looks.

I can feel it, I think.

It can come in waves-

like gravity. That's heavy, she snorted sarcastically.

Actually, it is weak,

I added for weight.

Mind over matter,

she quipped back.

If you don't mind-

it doesn't matter,

I dismissed.

I guess I should lighten up, let it float,

she finally smiled

and lit up the room, once again, happily

ever after and growing.

Image of painting by José Ferraz de Almeida Júnior [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

All complementarities aside

We tapped into the human genome

And are now mapping the brain

But you know we won't find love there either.

They scared us with the hole in the atmosphere,

Cosmic rays, acid rain. They tried terror

By burning down the forest before the cure

For cancer was cultivated.

The ice melts and minerals reinfuse themselves

Ionically with purpose, freeing radicals to cleanse

Surfaces.

Then this standard A brain met a utilitarian snaggle-

What’s it for? What about changes?

Yeah, the gold was soft after all.

There was common wetware

And we always knew how copper conducted itself

Generous with friction and actions without touch.

Entangled in the overhead wires,

Thought is under webs, like lines that meant complex

Life that we thought

we could emulate all the folds and it would comfort us

knowing love was no there to be found

nestled in tight corners and, residing

rather closer to a paradox between intelligent design

and first thought or dream.

Image credit By Smithsonian Institution from United States [No restrictions], via Wikimedia Commons.

Info via Wikimedia- Chandra telescope x-ray (2005): 

"The Chandra image shows a bubble of hot gaseous supernova debris (green and red) inside a more rapidly moving shell of extremely high-energy electrons (blue). These features were created as the supersonic expansion of the debris into interstellar gas produced two shock waves - one that moves outward and accelerates particles to high energies, and another that moves backward and heats the stellar debris. The relative expansion speeds of the hot debris and the high-energy shell indicate that a large fraction of the energy of the outward-moving shock wave is going into the acceleration of atomic nuclei to extremely high energies. This finding strengthens the case that supernova shock waves are an important source of cosmic rays - high-energy nuclei which constantly bombard Earth"

At most, Fear

When one notes

the Atmosphere,

I wonder

what do You
conjure, in imagery?

A mood, light,

aura, ambiance, affect,

air, Up, There,

Ascent?

Dare we 

try to touch the ceiling, 

thusly tempted terrestrials?

We determine to defy 

our own manmade heavy Laws.

We break barriers, sound out loud, 

maximums

as axioms. 

We try to fly, defy gravity,
soar for more

throw wishes at stars

and hold our breath.

At this inclination

drops dew hover insight,
and we called it Fog,

blurring dezephyr

into

at-mos(t)-phere.

Background muzak soothes

voluminous volatiles

(i.e. such as) we hear. 

Image of Earth atmosphere taken from the space shuttle Atlantis in May 2010. Photo Credit: By NASA, STS132 [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

In the Zone (everything flows)

We have been put in our place “Now”

some feel trapped “Here” -in this dimension sandwich-
Between the roof-sphere-sky-bread
the floor-terra-granite-salt-meat.

Chin up, wi-fi buzzes
humming high-pitched all ways
electric energy
flows
Every Where
we insist on Being.

It originates and stimulates
somewhere
too far to hear
below
the lines,

of sedimentary sheets
compressed in ambient ambivalence
resting in a peace of a kind,
we minded and kept in our place,

like calm, comfortable creatures, calculating:

Where is “Here”
No Time like “Now”

with or without Us
life flows
with no End (in-sight).

Image By NASA's Goddard Space Flight Center [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons. Atmosphere of exoplanet taken Dec. 2013.