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.

The sound of falling stars

How does happenstance

happenever?

Does the light fall

thru (by accident)

or intrude only where

there are openings?

Even chance

offers probabilities, (unless) useless,

I guess, all is risk

(in)sound(less)ness

listening for a serenade

out There, 

in the near future called

Hope or Wishupon.

After all,

whose to say it

(was) all was lined up 

that way,

and this was going (all) ways

going to (all) happen

any (which) way

the circumstance of chance

happens

to 

fall

up

on

us
?

Image By NASA/Bill Ingalls [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons, Perseid Meteor shower 8/2015.

In the Zone (everything flows)

We have been put in our place “Now”

some feel trapped “Here” -in this dimension sandwich-
Between the roof-sphere-sky-bread
the floor-terra-granite-salt-meat.

Chin up, wi-fi buzzes
humming high-pitched all ways
electric energy
flows
Every Where
we insist on Being.

It originates and stimulates
somewhere
too far to hear
below
the lines,

of sedimentary sheets
compressed in ambient ambivalence
resting in a peace of a kind,
we minded and kept in our place,

like calm, comfortable creatures, calculating:

Where is “Here”
No Time like “Now”

with or without Us
life flows
with no End (in-sight).

Image By NASA's Goddard Space Flight Center [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons. Atmosphere of exoplanet taken Dec. 2013.

A morsel of musing

If I were to pinpoint
precisely where and when
it happened
I knew
to follow the line
back to the pole
when I happened upon
a spork in the road.
White on black,
the day as clearly as clouds be,
and plastic albeit,
yet it stopped me, dimeless,
there on my deceased steps,
breath on the line...
In a round-about way, you could say
I was stuck in the smooth palm,
it's well
being surrounded by sharp
tines
to be
deployed in case
the next course
require more-
I am sure, that was the sign
that read
Be ready,
either way.




Image By Jeffqyzt (Own work) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons, Three Sporks.

Yes You

Don't act like you're not
loved
deeply
by many
souls that have walked with you-
It is not for them
to say
you should notice
how often and which way
they choose
they see and they say
You
in all that they project to be.
Proud.
Today-
watch them watching you,
interested and more than themselves
by being in the presence of you...


Image By Olympe Aguado [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

Ultimate(um)

Please don't look closely.
If you could just squint
and tell me it's good
or just walk away...

It's not taking shape
like I said, trust me though,
as I said it was,
it is nothing...

like you've seen
a thousand times no,
you never saw once
entirely, just hurry

it along, you've said and pled.
I'd rather not, you know
I can't make it-right
write as it is instead.




Image By loosepunctuation (Erica Kline) (Flickr) [CC BY 2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons.

Six (American) Sense(tenses)

Nationalism is not knowing your nations complete history.

Invited to the party, they indulged, the Others watched in famine.

The teens all sneer at the lessons that keep them in lockdown for too long.

Put away for later, only then noticing more than one could need.

Single mother carries more, her cold shoulder avalanche of envy.

Insecurity is taking a shower with a spider.

Image By Philip Callas, http://www.deiwos.org/, http://pipcallas.deviantart.com/gallery/ (Own work) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

*These lines are based on Allen Ginsberg's American Sentences, seventeen syllables, one sentence.