B4 PM

Before private messaging
            there were the numbers
on the clock

And those moments
were magical

when we could predict
          (make occur)
                                the future

with its interminable revelations
And knew
All Souls
past by-when it began
its first
            Revolution.

There were many times
All numbers
changed what they meant
               and how they appeared
in passing.

Artwork by John Singer Sargent [CC0] in Public Domain.

RPM

She had been running like a top for the past 100 years.

All pistons were firing, the timing on, it was simpler then,
without all that electrical wiring and webs to get caught up in.

Everything started with a spark,
which caused the requisite chain reaction
needed for thrust and to accelerate
fuel through tubes and get the veins conducting
enough heat to signal friction, life, and movement
along with the exchange that lungs do, except
inside the dragon's breast, under the hood
there is smoke
where a heart should have been.

A simple jump was not enough.

It can always be fixed, we are reassured. With Parts
and Labor, the estimate is always exceeded.

Rebuilt,
She might have run forever,
had there been no end of gas, parts, expertise-

Or had the rules been followed as in right of ways
and merging. Had they not crashed, recklessly
leaving fumes, rubber, bolts and broken glass strewn,
we may have made it a little further along the road to civil
ization.

Aside from all the accidents and operator errors,
outside influences and distractions,
if we stopped all four ways, blinked Right and turned on Red
we would translate the road signs and Marx made,
as symbolic of the passed
and find a new way
to revolve.

She was broken down.



Photo credit taken 29 January 2005 . . Bogdangiusca . . 396x271 (52947 bytes) ({{PD}}) in Public Domain via Wikimedia Commons. 

The top spins on top of the world

It was always about time and place.
One Geologic Positioning Series

Stay still, finding location.

The matter remained
evidently encapsulated
for posterity or hermetically.

You see,
May you live in an interesting time,
is said
in jest.

Though, making it so
makes it so
living our story this way,

nowadays
it is done
this way.

Eventually folding our pages back
into strata and pulp layers
kneading condensation
to make sense in story
smell right.

It was from the East,
the scent carried, the wind
was metallic and heavy with
dry pollen.

We can hope this time
the butterfly will navigate
independently.

It seems lately
the bees hear first
and respond quickly,

making honey with
putrescence
in time for another
Revolution.


Image of  (sketch) The color top, 1877 in [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

Cosmicomics mesostics

                                     

                                        he with the papers blaCk and white

            way space was when the galaxies were fOrmed and

                                                                           Space was then through the point Space

         undeniable in the glow whereas events coMe

                                                                    flowIng down without

                                                                          Cement

                                                               being pOured 

                                                                    coluMn next to the other

                                                                     withIn

                                   the other seperated by blaCk

                                                    and incogruouS headlines

                                                                          ☼

                                                                unconscIous is

                                                                            The

                                                                       oceAn

                                                      of the unsayabLe

                                                                            Of what

        land of language removed as a result of anCient prohibitions

                                                                   he wAs carried away by that mania

                                                      of the storytelLer

                                                               who neVer

                                                            knows whIch stories are more beautiful the

                                                                         oNes thay really 

                                           happened and the evOcation of which recalls a whole flow of past

                                                                              ☼

                    the pages of the space was wen galaxIes were being formed 

                                                             space was Then with 

                                 corpuscles by emptiness contAining no

             destination or meaning and how beautifuL

                                                                 then thrOugh that to

                     draw lines parabolas pick out the preCise point the intersection

                                                                            spAce and

                                      time where the event wouLd spring

    undeniable the prominenence of whereas now eVents

                                                                    come wIthout

                                                                 like cemeNt being

                                                                              pOured column next to other one within other

                                                                            ☼

                                                                            seCond 

                                                          industrial revOlution

                                                          unlike the firSt does not present us

                                              with such crushing iMages as

                                                                          rollIng mills and molten steel but with bits

              in a flow of information traveling along Circuits

                                                            in the form Of

                                                             electronic iMpulses the

                                                                                Iron

                                                                          maChines

                                                                                Still exist but they obey the order of bits.

                                                                               ♦

The stanzas above were created using the Mesostic Poem Generator and quotes by Italo Calvino who adamatly denied being a any sort of a poet. For formatting alignment this poem is best read on full screen.

Image by Frank R. Paul, A jagged beam of flame (1932) in [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

Why we bother to bother with Why (a deepity)

Because we are here now

facing each other,

listening to the music

we are submissive-or brave

Because we stand up and speak aloud

to show another view,

we abort our own conception

by consent-or dissent

Because we fret and dodge regret

ruts are dead set, circuits carry currents

direct, a dexterity of pre-determined design

connected by linear contact-or experience

Because stasis ensures us

and the foreseen guarantees us

safety in numbers, with all the fish in the sea

our place is secured in parsimony

Because Things don’t change, instead We rearrange

our conception, our perception-a deception

based on learned History, founded on prophesy

we perverse possibility-or reverse responsibility

Because the incentive is steep

Regret is shallow

Because the chances are scarce

Retribution is the final reward. 

Image of cover publication "The Masses", c. 1916 By E. Higgins [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

Poem inscribed on bottom left corner reads:
Revolution
Anyone can write Revolution-Revolution
is written
By pale young men with the new conven-
tional mind;
Though it causes, indeed, no such havoc 'mid
humankind
As Samson's did when the Philistines were 
smitten.

It is easy to preach-Revolution-Revolution
in pink reviews,
Or flourish a Phrygian cap from the top of a 
steeple;
But if ever it came to an uprising of the people,
How many pale poets would stand in the leaders 
shoes?
-William Rose Benet