Saying sorry doesn't help

My apologies
for the backwards way
we must lose before we gain
understanding
what we had
was good
and gone
evermore.

I am so sorry
you miss
the good old days
when we didn't know better
was brand spankin' new
coveting those thingamajigs
and do-hickeys
that distract.

In fact my sincerest,
condolences
are merely subatomic.

Again, my apologies
for keeping quiet
all to myself
when words were used
as light for color
reflecting more
off a wave
than a particle
can potentially be
nevermore
than sorry.


Painting via Internet Archive Book Images, 1911 [No restrictions], via Wikimedia Commons.

quin

Quintessentially
being, me, sole-fully
keeping five alive.




Painting By Victor Dubreuil (1846 - 1946) (American) Five dollar bill circa 1885 [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

Muted Miranda

It is clear
we are obscure.

You can relax.
It is right to let it go-
and by the way,
you never had control
autonomously anyway.

Listen,
I know you hear
the same eerie prophecy,
drowned in echoed epiphanies,
or floating on fantasies
of everlasting
We Were Here
dwelling in fear
and drawing it out
by quarters
intones.

Why we comply-
we know not
everything was true.

All will pass
all the same
as though
blue were something
new-yet there is nothing
we can do
but witness.

We have the right
to remain silent
left behind an
afterthought
with guilt
by association
lurking alone
for the safety of Others.



Painting By Pompeo Molmenti (1819-1894), The Arrest of Filippo Calendario, 1874 (FineArtAmerica) [Public domain], 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.

The mana of the fauna

Gaia is my locale,
Terra is my terrain
Inside this
aqueous bubble
flora flourishes
thick and suspended amid
the primordial brew.
This is my realm-
while I am at the helm
I am in my house,
an island broken free.
The sky is not too far away,
a ceiling just out of reach.
On the tip of my fingers,
on the tip of my tongue
I taste the expression
Home sweet Home
and am parched
waiting by the door.




Image By en:Gerard van Schagen [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons. World map c. 1689.

Smoke break

Smoldering smoke stacks from the monsters house
lie dormant and unmoved 

by the coastal swells
salt-water-air-swirls and slaps hand-to-hand
standing stoic and ionic.

Meanwhile July seethes
and pores drink up

like lungs,
exchanging into why
wait-Take in a deep drag
of volcanic Venus vapor,
letting off summer steam
the kettle screams black sky.




Image by Alfred T. Palmer [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

Ripples of rhyme

There were poems in there...
A whole slew.

Now all I hear is a faint
whisper of you.

The pond is still
from over-fishing.

I have no more pennies
for poetic wishing.

The water waits
without reflection...






Photo By NPS Photo [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.