“A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.” -Percy Bysshe Shelley
Showing posts with label energy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label energy. Show all posts
Sunday, March 31, 2019
soft-ness
It was not evident
at first
how special it was
to Be
good.
I said soft
and meant
landing.
The cats saw
around me
and fixated themselves
under each of my most careful
footfalls,
short of floating
they weave comfortably
vibrating.
The hummingbird
held himself back
from resting
atop my crown,
settling instead
for a golden thread,
with a tip
of nectar.
I reached inside
my treasure box
and felt
enjoyment
in my collection
and it was greater
than my own
goodness gracious
to hold on to softly.
Photo credited by Francisco EnrĂquez, 2001 [Public domain].
Wednesday, February 14, 2018
One and done
A singular point pierces the edifice of air,
a stone ruffles the feathered water in strands
where the wind was whispering aloud
and bodies bending above were
leeched into the one minuscule slit.
Pulses race under this repulsive pulling force,
heat escapes by each breath projecting into liquidity
and bulging beams charge forth in banded arrays
fractured from nothing, All
excited by this culmination
we found ourselves somewhere in there
catching glimpses with eyelids
necks lace this track, our spine compresses,
humidity falls, beads babble over boulders in
broken brooks under black light or water and space
pulled from the mountains sleeve
pinches time, a shroud of silken sky
glistens with age, a blink of life, a volume of light,
reaches its diurnal destination,
recycling motes in elliptical orbits.
Photo By Ingolfson (Self-photographed) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.
Monday, September 11, 2017
Wireless settings
It has been unusual, of late-
compared to panoramic pictures,
sweeping views and one you...
Were you there?
Did you hear the pacing behind?
They did not come today.
The light flickered.
Must be
something wrong with the energy...
It looks all the same golden bar or promise
and warmth and yet
no commerce or conservative estimate
would add up to good conduct.
would add up to good conduct.
.
The dust piles
where entropy adds up to
total homogeneity.
Waiting is a dip in tango-ment
without charge, consentual even between two posts.
These quantum jitters move on
branes hold on to frayed ends
discharged from free will.
Photograph By Ministry of Information Photo Division Photographer, March 1945 in [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.discharged from free will.
Wednesday, March 29, 2017
Magnetic fields
The air holds warmth in sealed packets
and ships them to living bodies
whom linger idyllically,
overdressed in gaudy allure,
pink jasmine sprays its lusty plumes
overhead the woven flower wreath
making this crown Joyous.
The mustard yellow fields are lit.
Local poppies have all stuck their spindly necks
out tall, above the scruff and common
gullible daisies.
Petals spark fields of amber glow,
strong in orange and
merely mocking
the white weak sun.
There was green hope all over the hills
-After All-
Winter wouldn’t stay fixated on grey
forever. Tasted the difference between
yellow earth and blue sky-together
And It was good,
And it was all green
left by the sugary dew
drawn to each other
in the new Spring atmosphere.
Painting by Granville Redmond, Coastal wildflowers (1912), in [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.
Saturday, February 18, 2017
Elevation in feet
From those dark mountain
valleys etching destiny
like palm lines
We conjure up rain and ropes,
tethering our dreams to
vibrant green acres of horizon
radiating our perspectives
of
voluminous bubbling energies
under
entropic skies
over there.
If only
we had more energy,
if only
more time...
We would make it up
and over and climb higher to
see
what is
over the top,
finally.
The other side
is sleep.
Painting by Winslow Homer, In the mountains, 1877, in [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.
Friday, January 13, 2017
A handle on mesmerism
Just
so you know, we were right
to
suspect any consonant
that
needs a vowel to back it up.
Quintessentially;
quasi, quickness, quiet,
quarks
and quantum theories,
all
innocent until proven otherwise.
We
were correct when we assumed
gravity
would keep it all together,
but
neglected to factor its distributive
properties
& aggressive enforcement of
simultaneous
eminent domain properties,
allegedly,
stayed comfortable until ejected.
We
were on the right track,
until
it went-left-us
dusting
prints and collecting categories.
We
were seekers and askers
that
could spare no time to wait
for
the reply. Why, we all ready
knew,
light travels by choice, fades,
in
the dark effervescent legacy of We
picks
its photonic path of preference or
-least
resistance.
We
were getting somewhere
further,
expanding our reach and
grasp
at the fading universe
whose
tension untangles energy
by
itself through kinesthetics.
We
were playing with electricity
and
shocked to see, we were the end
that
shorted potentiality
with
our beautiful brevity.
We
were wrong all along
about
gravity and letter pairs,
the
proof was static, hanging, ringing,
crushing
all
in the heavy air.
Artists conception By NASA/JPL-Caltech [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons. From wiki:
This artist's conception illustrates a Jupiter-like planet alone in the dark of space, floating freely without a parent star. Astronomers recently uncovered evidence for 10 such lone worlds, thought to have been "booted," or ejected, from developing solar systems.
The planet survey, called the Microlensing Observations in Astrophysics (MOA), scanned the central bulge of our Milky Way galaxy from 2006 to 2007. It used a 5.9-foot (1.8-meter) telescope at Mount John University Observatory in New Zealand, and a technique called gravitational microlensing. In this method, a planet-sized body is identified indirectly as it just happens to pass in front of a more distant star, causing the star to brighten. The effect is like a cosmic funhouse mirror, or magnifying lens light from the background star is warped and amplified, becoming brighter.
Tuesday, August 16, 2016
Pro-Me-The-Us
Smoldering is the only thing I can do for me.
The pungent sulphur of hurt flesh
waits to be sucked in.
The mind wanders as the only means of escape.
Don't bother counting loses like sheep.
All that matters
rebuilds itself in scar and calcium.
Atomically interested in erector sets,
likeness, hinged on proteins
means this attraction
is greater than one.
The smoke signal I sent
lays low, lingers spinning rings faintly
into heat haze.
I have become consumed in the carbon blaze.
Energy spent as a violent commodity, Life.
Yet by now the fire is finally dying
and yet sparks may remain if latent,
nameless and noxious,
potentially smothered by this body.
None will re-ember
the dank smell
of arson
on your soul.
Although
just about
anyone will warm their hands
over hot coals.
Painting by Hubert Maurer, c. 18th century [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.
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