The child contemplating comets

What color do you see?
The child asks her mother,
after reflecting-
The blue eyes take care of the oceans,
the green ones tend to grow everything
the brown, found all around,
those brown eyed bodies built the mountains
by blinking.
The child wonders what exactly
the sky sees.
Her mother mentions the birds in a vee,
points to the bees and
Honey-
The child sees no kindred spirit afloat,
she is grounded and feels pressure.
She scours around the ground
in search of relatives, by proximity,
puts them in a pencil box
after making them shiny,
and then she names them.
The child collects her rocks and hounds her mother
about the origins or babies
of granite and geode
and likes the lineage, the idea
of the clouds trapped in crystals
and how close purple seems to black.
How did the rocks, and
the sand the water get born-
She asks with her eyes squinting out at the night sky.
Were all stars once planets?
She asks that moonless night,
and feels sorry about the answer.
It will be back, her mother explains phases
and patience.
The child misses no more
and wonders what container would be good for keeping
stars. Look around, says her mother,
all that you are
is Here, touching her heart,
let the stars fall where they may...
Is that why my eyes are grey?
She remembers
as though it were as close as yesterday.


Painting by Edward Lear, The Marble Rocks (1882) in [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

Substitute Stars

Might it be that Mars is merely winking this way, ogling in orbit
then blushed when he saw-Us-
shadowed in his ruby glare?

All this while the meager moon hides behind a curtain in the corner;
shedding layers, seductively buoyed by 
        dark energy that winds while she rests up

in the next phase, the stars seem scattered by correlation 
but brighter by chaos; letting go of the lighter matters, 
you see

Colors could care less about our splendid collections,
kaleidoscopes and metronomes,
fractals and turbines, mirrors and machines, making
        more of that 
        and like this 
one oasis in potential grants more than any one wish
deservedly.

Tiny toys, glam and glitterati, Lucy and her rocks, likes
G.I. Joe and his grenades, helplessly She lies by He
pulling pins out of her hair, stripping down to barren
        and lighting matches like flares, indistinguishable
        in the universe.

We watch, perverted and diverted in curiosity, vapidly
spreading green gasses of dank envy throughout this galaxy,
as far as stars are pointed by projection,
there will be black holes
in his story.

Image credit By NASA and The Hubble Heritage Team (STScI/AURA) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

Details: "NASA's Hubble Space Telescope took the picture of Mars on June 26, 2001, when Mars was approximately 68 million kilometers (43 million miles) from Earth — the closest Mars has ever been to Earth since 1988. Hubble can see details as small as 16 kilometers (10 miles) across. The colors have been carefully balanced to give a realistic view of Mars' hues as they might appear through a telescope. Especially striking is the large amount of seasonal dust storm activity seen in this image. One large storm system is churning high above the northern polar cap (top of image), and a smaller dust storm cloud can be seen nearby. Another large dust storm is spilling out of the giant Hellas impact basin in the Southern Hemisphere (lower right)."

Sere

Sere
see here,
it was hot.

Hotter than sin,
at November daybreak
and the swept sky revealed
traces, as wind,
Saint Ana blew through,
while the inferno loitered along
the way gathering a static, cult-ish
hung as tense air, sacrificing
the people clung to silence.

And as the details,
our stars bartered
over-night
over our dead bodies,
see here
some slept all the while
some wept themselves barren
and some became swept up by isms,
enrapt in labels, and role playing,
naming and claiming knowing,
the game goes on.
Rock.
Paper.
Scissors.

Sere and silent,
dumbfounded,
surrounding the crackling air-
This is where we
do not care
about whom you cannot touch
person-ally.
Such as the trim horizon
off in the distance,
taut sharply to keep apart
certain matters, reactions
into lumps of coal, carbon-copied
canaries as luminaries
See
we sing while we may
hear, cause for flight.

Somewhere over there
the water danced with a veil of flames,
the ice smoked with dramatic intention,
the clouds caused accidents low and high,
the land split open its molten chasm, hungry
to matter more.

See here
the red in the sky
is just a reflection...
Starting over.
This is how
Saints from below
wave their victory flames to Autumn.

Anew, we feed Prometheus who fumes immortality
burning his precious people
in the name of Pandora, igniting
fauna and flora to flee
anywhere less sere,
less here
threadbare and awestruck
like lightening.


Painting by Jean-Baptiste-Camille Corot [Public domain or Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

Day dreams

The world is flat-after all.

From here on the ledge
of this precipice, crisp
ridges jut through hazy space.

Placed in perch, the pendulum,
humming in wide ether ebbs
across calm chasms float
ascending the abysmal
highs and neaps-
the watcher sleeps, while
I's skip across the surface-

It is good to know,
up-on deeper reflection,
if light were soft,
nightfall would not hurt-
so much as with onus-
we carry dreams, inklings
heavy enough for sinking stars.

In arches,
the moon bounces back,
putting herself away in phases
setting limits on the possibilities
of how far eyes can go in one day.




Photo By Jon Sullivan [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

Arts and crafts

Poets are stars
as many as the naked eye can make out
or point to
and mean precisely
nowhere specific.
Dr. Suess and crafts,
black construction paper and a poker,
make poetry for kids.
Now hold the holy black sheet
up to the light,
and see-
starry night
Today, and
as many poets as the paper will hold holes.
We cannot focus on the ones that fell,
but they do catch your eye
in real time.
It is no wonder no new ones
have ever been found.


Painting (oil on canvas) by Edwin Blashfield, 1927 [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

All in a day

Will it ever cease?
The stars don't give up to-day.
Lumens were simply a clue
of brighter futures
not a past promise
for ever.



Image By Internet Archive Book Images, Cornell Poetry Anthology, 1920 [No restrictions], via Wikimedia Commons.

Seeing spot(light)s

The dawn gave us Time
enough for our eyes to adjust
by dilation and securely
put away our Imagination.

Still, we can rely on the day
which washes out
lines in shadow,
and though
we act like we know
how it will go
down
in lumens and lux
by observing magnitudes
we are too tiny to see.

When the sun comes up,
let us pretend
it has never been
done before
this way
we can see
All
the stars
conceivably.



Photo credit: By NASA/JPL (http://photojournal.jpl.nasa.gov/jpeg/PIA00576.jpg) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.
Detail via Wikimedia: A Martian sunrise was captured in this Viking 2 Lander picture taken June 14, 1978, at the spacecraft's Utopia Planitia landing site. The data composing this image were acquired just as the Sun peaked over the horizon on the Lander's 631st sol (Martian solar day). Pictures taken at dawn (or dusk) are quite dark except where the sky is brightened above the Sun's position. The glow in the sky results as light from the Sun is scattered and preferentially absorbed by tiny particles of dust and ice in the atmosphere. When the Viking cameras are calibrated for darker scenes, the "sky glow" tends to saturate their sensitivity and produce the bright regions seen here. The "banding" and color separation effects are also artifacts, rather than real features, and are introduced because the cameras are not able to record continuous gradations of light. The cameras must represent such gradations in steps (bands) of brightness and color, and the process sometimes produces some "false" colors within the bands. The scattering of light closest to the Sun's position tends to enhance blue wavelengths. The narrowing sky glow nearer the horizon above the Sun's position occurs as a result of light extinction. At that elevation, the optical path of sunlight through the atmosphere is at its longest penetration angle, and a substantial portion of the light is simply prevented from reaching the cameras by the dust, ice particles and other material in its way.

It is Uni-verse-all

It is not enough

we must make more

it feels slipping through

air-we grasp at wildly

but remain empty handed.

It is up to us

who know

how it all goes away

shown in the sky

by the expansion of our

space-

the distance between us grows

evermore.

It is easy to ignore

something missing

never noticed before

gone.

It is more than

we can handle;

so small

we were never meant to see,

so vast

we could not ever fathom

its depths entirely.

It is when we fall

our eyes catch

the brilliant flame

and make a wish

for more.

Photo credit: By NASA; uploaded by User:Dipankan001. [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons. 
Photo details:

English: Resembling looming rain clouds on a stormy day, dark lanes of dust crisscross the giant elliptical galaxy Centaurus A.

Hubble's panchromatic vision, stretching from ultraviolet through near-infrared wavelengths, reveals the vibrant glow of young, blue star clusters and a glimpse into regions normally obscured by the dust.

The warped shape of Centaurus A's disk of gas and dust is evidence for a past collision and merger with another galaxy. The resulting shockwaves cause hydrogen gas clouds to compress, triggering a firestorm of new star formation. These are visible in the red patches in this Hubble close-up.

At a distance of just over 11 million light-years, Centaurus A contains the closest active galactic nucleus to Earth. The center is home for a supermassive black hole that ejects jets of high-speed gas into space, but neither the supermassive black hole nor the jets are visible in this image.

This image was taken in July 2010 with Hubble's Wide Field Camera 3.

Little big things add up

You count the ants,
I will count the stars
The sheeple will graze in between.

The sun will highlight
optical illusions,
as color-wheel real.
The moon casts shadows
on our little delusions,
fear reigns supreme
in dream.

Our being
Here
while pointing to a view
too minute to see audibly
too vast for me
to grasp without the imaginary,
makes dreams with my reality.




Image credit Popular Science Monthly V. 29 (1886), thru telescope image via Wikimedia Commons.

Taking in the Aether & the Higgs Ocean view

You see
             the problem is:
I need someone to help me figure out-
or to talk to,
theoretically,
hypothetically
(poetically)
I muse
in a place
I cannot quite describe
I will not come near
being able to show you
the particles
flying and suspended
suffocating the air with the dots
of the question mark,
Specks
they're sometimes called

I see them flying in the air
suffocating and thick against each other
compelled, repelled, forced and willing
mixing cosmic stew, stars colliding
thick with dark matter
Sometimes
I could choke
on the chunks of thick loneliness
attractive pollution, vaporous resolution
the pressure we place
on a black hole, I feel
                                    my heart exploding
in symmetry                with infinity

You see
these words
this world
-what's the matter?
the anti-matter and all that allusion
the illusion said of what should
particularly
not see

I feel them touching me
like gravity-a weak force
but you're not floating away
                                             from me yet
                                                                 just expanding your magnitude
So how do I show
that I know
                  the connection-in reflection-
the theories of strings beyond beings
staff that carry the notes
                                      that fall on deaf ears
like blind stars
like us
who would rather
Not see
the day come of the dying sun
with no one
to talk to
but someone not looking
and
saw it too.


Image By NASA [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons. Image taken by ROSAT shows confined hot gas captured via X-ray providing evidence that the gravity exerted in groups and clusters of galaxies is attributed to dark matter.