Every thing

It used to be about Other Things
It was always about 'other things'.

The more you think about It,
the more It thinks about more.

Stare long enough at any thing
and you lose all light discrimination
inside those black-hole pupils.

It has been said things couldn't be worse-
something about change, smaller
but felt the same with more things
and blame.

It was cluttered with chatter,
static, white noise, white holes
and light bounces off rubber words.

If you blink now,
it will never change.
Time wiggles out of every thing.


Painting by Thomas Wijck (c. 17th century), Alchemist in his study with a woman making lace, uploaded by Chemical Heritage Foundation [Public domain or CC BY 3.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0)], via Wikimedia Commons.

Stacking boxes

We seem to be on the right track.

Some words contains things.

We are confident that the black box

contains all the answers or the y’s-anyway

we need to know

Don't be chicken, unscramble the egg 

before the givens and ganders include

more than two lame ducks and an ugly goose.

Sharp edges, right angles, cubism

is no plaything

for block stacking children.

This black box we found is the thing

to eye-so-late

and define –objectively-we made enclosures

and watched the walls hit home.

The black box must have its corners

where all information clusters 

in tapering space...

The black hole, faucet or vacuum tube

where All

information is contained past and future

flow freely-

both true and not chosen

come together 

only to matter.

Blending by chance, choice, or

opportunity, effect, and someone said

Noise not blur...

Now, this is all there ever was,

Now, with reduced facts, take

atoms, quarks into questionable chunks

of say 100 neurons or 3 seconds-

A moment may be lost-watching-looking

For it. You are it. You cannot feel yourself spin?

I read a note for you

Inside the black box

It says where it is from-

                              there is no gift receipt. 



Painting by Adolph Tidemand [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

Peering inside a black hole

Imagine It,
not wholly unfamiliar.
They call it frequency
because it-
Come again...
∝

The thing to re-membering is

making new ones better by

re-cycling.

∞

Better to be broke and full of spirit
Than holy and empty of edge.
Infinite is always
prettier sounding
than eternity.

≃ 

Rote by re-verb-eration
(un)sounded like (in)sanity
Lately
No body can be quiet
And still, do nothing.
Activism and Philosophy,
Art History.

Duchamps Fountain of youth remixed

and flushed.
∡
Once upon a time,
words were deceiving
tiny dictionaries in sprawling villages
with vacuous vocabularies
that cannot find Meaning
anywhere 

you see syllables slang

instead.
∓
No entry has been admitted-yet
Non-sense pre-veiled, we guessed
inert gasses would decay away.
Nothing was there
ever before-never-mind-
better to (con)serve your energy.
★
Cool your jets,
we are all ways all most done.
♯


Artists rendering of Black Hole By Copyleft (Own work) [CC0], via Wikimedia Commons.

Satellite

Pair, not pare, as if we needed two

to know communication is necessary

to Foxtrot or Tango binary is Zebra.

We ask only to mishear the confusing

theories or holes in our black clad alibis

for why we were here, inevitable and

loving no matter what sound it makes,

it needs a forest to muffle and cover us

under the pitch-not Vanta Black-not-yet-we shall see

and still sense something deeper is out there...

            Let me ask. No.

            Since you seem knowledgeable-

            Do you think we look cool, all lit up or have we

            lost track

            of trends? Colors can be tricky.

            It could be a culture thing, a sign of life, in slushy seas

            that contain multitudes of whale hymns and plankton

            choruses from eons ago, it goes, it goes,

            (never mind, I don't know the words)

We have a half a million tiny satellites hovering around us,

moons, rocks, bacterium, the hum-dingers

tinier than ten cent meters, that do five hundred dollar dashes---

in a rocket sneeze planned projectory that resembles

the ideal arc to release a stream of (consciousness) these; could be

Defined as:

1. ) a natural body

2.) a device

3.) a branch office or alternate location

4.) a subservient follower of another (led/lead)

5.) a country under domain

Of Another Aliens or

404, Page not Found.

Artwork by Henri Théophile Hildibrand in [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons, 'Around the Moon' (1872).

Forthright

The T
with its crosshairs
feathered with aech
and too
are used as wings
in a word-Truth-
with you in the middle.
The angels arrow
hits the squinted bullseye,
stuck in a black hole lie.




Painting by Giovanni Baglione, The Divine Eros defeats the earthly Eros (c.1602), [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

A-part of some-thing

As though we needed to be told
-a-gain-
As if it were common
to occur
-again-
As it had been shown, all-
ready through
peopled holes-where keys go-
-inside-
These-black holes-out of space
and time constraint, locked
in-side-eternity
carrying more nothing
than you have seen
before.

Memory serves experience,
and kneels-
As though we've demanded
reverence, deliverance, pittance, per-
chance for-getting minute (s)paces
that take Us-
off tracks, on trips and
slips through slick perception
again, inside, before,
it occurs, as though suddenly
standing still under falling stars-
as if-then
you remember
Being-There.

You are merely a part of nature;
You are not altogether
apart from nature.
Everything was bound
to occur
any-way, naturally.
As though we needed to re-
member.




Image of painting by Theodore Clement Steele, c. 1887 [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

Audio astronomy

The signal came from the southern sky

traveling through pelagic open space,

in intergalactic waters,

way out in the extragalactic sea

where wails with corkscrew tails

sing like wet rings, bottle-tops

humming up a cacophony

politely one point three billion

miles away we heard-

a New drop in Newtons bucket

a ripple we just heard, a chirp,

a slurp of bodily attraction

placed in interactive

angular momentum

just one parsec apart

and the moan, a new word

pronounced audioastronomy

a visual dichotomy

once again,

we were not using our sense(s).

Let's pretend we're dumb

and listen to what space may say

about a billion yesterdays

inaudible ways.

Image By X-ray: NASA/CXC/Curtin University/R. Soria et al., Optical: NASA/STScI/ Middlebury College/F. Winkler et al. [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons. 

Description in English: An extraordinary outburst produced by a black hole in a nearby galaxy has provided direct evidence for a population of old, volatile stellar black holes. The discovery, made by astronomers using data from NASA's Chandra X-ray Observatory, provides new insight into the nature of a mysterious class of black holes that can produce as much energy in X-rays as a million suns radiate at all wavelengths.

Researchers used Chandra to discover a new ultraluminous X-ray source, or ULX. These objects give off more X-rays than most binary systems, in which a companion star orbits the remains of a collapsed star. These collapsed stars form either a dense core called a neutron star or a black hole. The extra X-ray emission suggests ULXs contain black holes that might be much more massive than the ones found elsewhere in our galaxy.

A paper describing these results will appear in the May 10, 2012, issue of The Astrophysical Journal.

Feather Duster

A collective flux of humanity
each a mote point, asserting non-space,
and carried into the strongest current, alone
only to settle,
scatter the matter
atop the surface only to
corrupt the reflection.

Iotas of equality, wanton of will
in this form invisible, divisible
and particularly unattached

loosely liberated from titles.

Breaking fields, bumping along,
cluttering the reception, static
speckled somewhere, between angled
pieces of we, as ashen air,

suspended and taut the heaviest,
scattering a smattering
of our particulate atmosphere turn
back into stardust, visible vapors
 rain in shafts, even when we cannot see,

which is why
dust lingers here at high noon,

mocking notions of clean.

Image by By Dana Berry/NASA [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons. Black hole devours neutron star, taken 7/21/2013.