High Cue

Sap from heart-wood drips-

Honey, no one would call It.

Can you Smell the sun?

Painting by George Inness (1825-1894), 'The Mill Stream, Montclair, New Jersey' c. 1888 in Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.

5:59

Four minutes ago
it was  -My Time-  to shine, rise
above dark valleys



Painting by Claude Monet, 'Haystacks at Chailly at Sunrise', 1865 in [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

Granular

The moon was the same this morn,
the sun did come around,
eventually,
the hourglasses agreed with the sky
for once
what was needed was more
sand,
some moonrock,
and salt water.

All these things were sought
outside of day and night
in a blur of grey
it was just bright enough to find
the soundness, the source
which would not part
with the wind.

And it came down to all hours.
All Hail-
the spin master, mixing
time with light,
blind to the difference of circles
ingrained.




Artwork by Peder Balke, 1864 in [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

Light flavors

Now,

without the sun

                        overbearing

we can be

just

Honest, say don’t hurt

just

because you can enunciate

                        I can.

            I can-say it-

Now you say it

Strong like Bull-

            Head

Built like brick

            Chicken

-house-

Homeless vagabond renter, 

                         squatter be

categorically dissimilar

part Yokohama

                        by strolls through Ipanema

Say, there goes another

                        Bohemian

Fine

Young

Cannibal 

               could eat you up!

What have you to say 

that won't sting?

From where we began

Now finds us in the strangest

                        Truths.

I too prefer plums

                        To lemons. 

Painting by Hieronymus Galle (c. 1636-1646) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

Rockhound

What solidified as sedimentary and fragmented by boundaries for lines,

like this and that, then they become--attracted and hot, like activated napalm of Now,

or ancient as molten eruption of self from a grave state and under constant pressure.

Metamorphic under microscope where hopes and isotopes concentrate on concealment

(not ellipse) and atoms abound around encompassing this multi-verse.

Unrehearsed we feel the way around--properties, grasp at solids

to state stability, states of now and later. Conserved and dispersed by magnets

in ideal zero-balance equations, also known as inertia.

Glints are all hints from the sun and moon who toss phosphorous

photons at us and get enmeshed in metal, protruding these signal finds and keeps,

Enlightenment.

Those glimmers sent millions of light years have been,

once upon a time, moving, one of us,

waiting to be seen.

Disturbed in our bio-luminescence, we became

cloaked and blinded by our life-lights. 

Top image of first known lunar meteorite, Allan Hills  81005.
2nd image credit By Daderot (Own work) [CC0], via Wikimedia Commons, residing @ ASU Center for Meteorite Studies. 

Penumbra

shafts of shadow shrink
silhouetted slants shut
downward dimming,
the greedy gleam absorbs
its shade overbearing obfuscation
mimicking migraines on maps...
veins strained, pupils peel back
in drumming dilation-
the ground groans
under the wait
of light.




Painting By George Elbert Burr (Herbert F. Johnson Museum of Art) [Public domain or Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

Blue earth, Red sun

Earth will end on a Sunday.

The sun will have had its best days behind...

The moon, long retired, makes wax figurines.

So we are all stars.

Nothing disappears without direction,

even inside itself.

Concentrate.

The ethereal essence is growing without us.

Earth, like a sponge, porous

we take it all in until full

dripping with light.

And just like deja vu, we knew

Earth will end on a Sunday.

Drawing (pen, ink, graphite) by William Blake [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons. The great red dragon and the woman clothed with the sun.

Revelations

Some days
                  I see everything
just
                  as it should be
Grateful that the sun blazes
                 safely so far away
Lucky that the moon is so close by
                 and I still cannot feel
my own heart beat
                 or sense the spin,
a feeling of reeling along
at more than fourteen miles
                                   per minute
still.

How far
                I've come and gone
making a present of the past
pulled into others gravity
and laced in fine ribbons
                of harmony.


Most days
it seems blinking and breath
                                  proceed without
preference-
                                  all the same
never was needed nor noticed
how it all blends together
                                 by degrees
always perfection
                                 in reflection
just
Today
I said
It has never been Up to blue,
It was
Always red.





Painting By Otto Freundlich [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

Extremes

The sun peaks over
still with heavy lids.
On the other side,
the moon is full
of light-ness;
all the while,
Venus winks
at her valiant exposure
in longing along the same
celestial sphere,
wanting the words
to sync in solstice.



Photo credit: me (taken 6/20/16)

Neighbor-He Covet-Us

He said, Grass Grows Best

where you wiped away the wood

so the Sun could see.

Image By Ministry of Information Photo Division Photographer [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

Doomsday of Dionysus

If it were dreamt
by a brilliant mind
it would be, come
divine prophecy.
And genius was one
prophecy away from lunacy,
we would certainly
believe
in the phantasy.

Time,
we would learn
to stretch a point
into a limber line,
into an affinity
of likeness in light.

The expiration
and expectation
of the End, of our race
of the chase, over-
taken by night
led a long, long the way
by our own
four shadows.

We would cry,
caulk our eyes
and think again
of never
the same tomorrow,
while waking
through the day
four saking 
the dream, imagining control
over (coming) what may (come)
too tired of trying
to rise again.

Unwound
in the pendulums pause
exhausted
all ready
the urge to be done
with desire
hung over our heads.
It never dawned 

Up 

on us
We will
Be come
intoxicated
incinerated
in opta-mystic yellow
when the sun doesn't show.

The divine mind is “…the brilliant darkness of a hidden silence.”-Dionysus

Image from Splendor Solis c. 1582 (Germany), [CC0], via Wikimedia Commons. 

Rise and Shine

Today was the day

we knew

we were wrong

& had been all along.

Trusting in their truths,

evidence, predictions, proof, profession

Confession: certitude with servitude

brought back into light

when the sun did not rise. 

Image By NASA [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons. Taken October 20th 1968 from Apollo 7 altitude of 120 nautical miles above Earth on its 134th revolution (213 hours and 19 minutes after launch). 

Light cycle

The scalding star
                      bursting in beams
gives way, in due time
                      Tho not without a heated conflict
our only satellite set on high
                     sending signals where no one
can hide from the wrath and the aftermath

Both positions be known
                      observed and heeded
the dynamic cycle, black and white
                      from day to night
the changing of Our guards

who compose the length of our sentence                    
wardens we watch back.




Image by Henri Théophile Hildibrand [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

Sol Ascent

Learning is a peak, 

an ascending effort to change the view

expansive and panoramic, uncontained

by what is beyond being seen

from where you stand.

Discovery starts as a reaching sapling 

rewarded for breaking through the mire

by having its roots wrenched with envy,

a weed nestled in the woods

for resting, not reminding. 

Education is an island destination,

whose currents carved defenses

guarded by volcanic concepts,

corralling massive schools

in warm biodiverse cesspools.

Knowing is weather, temporal conditions

the subject of changing you, today

being prepared for the unpredictable;

knowledge wields power like a lever,

breaking in or out, the damage is done.

All the while we keep seeking

views we would rather lose,

the forest for its functionality,

learning the leaves, one believes

knowledge is a plucked flower.

All in reliance upon the Sun

whose punctured question 

marks the sky, answering all 

wisdom reaps its reward 

in the warm gift of a lonely smile. 

Image By Hillebrand Steve, U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.