Speed wobbles

Racing past

one gets the landscape

by an Impression-ist wrist

At the window, the color box spilt

noting the puffs on the palette

pushing by, running in streams

the mouth waters, dipping brushes, the tongue wiggles

if I could reach out, put my hand in

this water colored river, grasping

gasping for shape, I'd find only

orange

I’m afraid

to hold, still life

that poses as natural

representations of still-yet this is also

dead and buried plaster in acrylic

and the fiber bleeds, canvas cracks

like us, as personal whims

which color where

wafting pass a blended note

complimentary, nice to the eye

you catch mid-air, a mood, a tone

holding it there, while it is thrust forward

continuously, ever

taking souvenirs

wherever you go, grabbing

blades in the wind

at the expanse,

taking it all together

in-

distinct

as rain on glass

racing past.

Image by Georges Seurat, 1882 [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

Pivot point: 11/1919

          

            ∞

Eclipsing theories it occurred Earthly,

by a twinkling of doubt-

might light penetrate that too?

Witnessed few-by degrees

scales of truth, by fractions-

a test, a hypothesis to rest

a wish we may, a wish we might

see if Einstein was right that daynight.

             ∞

Bending starlight towards the artists eyes

the heavy lenses have been adjusted.

Ephemeral epiphanies, yes these

have energy, fields that carry

to open spaces, finds minds,

where dark-grey-is shady mass

is recognized in its likeness, eye to eye

in poetry. Compression.

              ∞

Encompasses only Here

the ever widening, infinitely expanding

dynamic astrological points

of view, growing still

under the weak weight

of the world by volume,

softened by moving the arc light

finding its center.

Image credit By NASA on The Commons (Apollo 12 view of Solar Eclipse) [No restrictions], via Wikimedia Commons. 

Nightvision

Silver sliver slit of moon

acts archaic atop adorned academies, antiquity

of old ordained, ornate, obstinate, and now obtuse

proclivities, profusely posing purporting professorship,

impelled into impervious impatient improprieties.

Notions by night, nearly now, it's too near novice to notice.

We will wait while the world wakes wearily,

today, teach the truth, telling tales, trusting stories to-

gether, gathering, groaning, gaining girth and gravity as we go

up right, up-tight, up early, up-side-down, unnoticed, in parity, and undulate.

Caught, covered by coal clouds carpeting the charisma

blue-black-blinking-bringing-back

wisps of white words which purple pink

disappear during daylight,

alone little line left

hanging on the hazy horizon, humidity hovers heavily

upon us.

Image By Long, William J. (William Joseph), 1867-1952 [No restrictions], via Wikimedia Commons.

Graphing exponential poetry

Poetry is a verb, actually

like making math.

Word problems are like poems-

not the answers,

that would be equating

sentences with results,

or pseudo-solutions

as situationally contingent

on truth, theoretically philosophy.

Those theorems,

like theories (of everything)

contain figurative

symbols to represent

flatly for us

a two-dimensional space, so we can grasp

a ratio reliant deeply

on equivalent symmetry

or isonomy

for all,

unequivocally.

Arithmetically synonymous

to finding n

with figuring out

the answers-sans numerals

by visualizing potential

probabilities

physic-all-

y

testing x

:for scalability

and (un)limited (un) confidential correspondence

or N/A on

.

Image By Joshi1983 (Own work) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons. Description: English: Volumetric visualization of a fractal function f(x,y,z) where the cut of z=0 graphs the Mandelbrot fractal and the cut of z=1 graphs the Juliaset fractal. The final iteration counts were mapped to opacity levels and colours. The shadow effect is made by tracing rays back to a vanishing point and using the opacity level along the traced ray to determine how well lit each point should be.

Knocked-up

The propagation of our species

is analogous to the activity in the LHC.

You see,

an Adam thrusting through the dark tube

on the Eve of infinitesimal exploration,

leaves a trace (of some Thing).

It happens,

plottable and expiated, it could be done.

Two come together, indelibly scribed. Trinity or Unity.

Isolated in Chronotope,

making love in concaves

and shattering parts of the hole.

Smashing and grabbing at mortality

x times y we try to replicate.

Positively propelled into new states

that gyrate around an unstable nuclei,

the family, in particular combination.

Metamorphosis and catharsis,

a process, or detonation.

Another explosion of selfsame stuff-

making matter most notably, arrayed-

                      contradictory to the dynamic display.  

Image of painting by Chemical Heritage Foundation [Public domain or CC BY 3.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0)], via Wikimedia Commons.

+Advice

Meanwhile,

all your work was not wasted.

See,

you wouldn't have understood me

before.

What's more,

you already knew these things,

such as; simple sayings, adage, axioms
and cliches, articles of accessory

seemed so gaudy, and yet
tried. 

Unlike any new advice such as

subtle suggestions, elbows 
and a nudge,
not this way, we learn as we
make progress. 
You

have this one life, one chance, one

You

must do what you love

Now.

Ask.

Ask not for permission, 
don't wait for approval 
don't doubt
empty pockets have holes.

Ask without question what is
Best. One foot at a

Time, time

is watching you
while you have an eye on it.

This time 
is yours, borrowed.

Counting the friendly hour,

you

count on hands

and wonder what it all

amounts to.

Like wilting exclamation marks,

on a petrified Dali branch,
there was always the expression 
and what it meant
to you. 

Image of painting by Honoré Daumier [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons, Advice to a Young Artist (1865-68).
Jean-Baptiste-Camille Corot [1796-1875], Paris; (his estate sale, Hôtel Drouot, Paris, part III, 7-9 June 1875, no. 665); purchased by Arthur Stevens.[1] Guillotin, Paris, by 1901. Adolphe A. Tavernier, Paris, by 1901.[2] [Ernest?] Cronier, by 1904. Goerg [or Georg], Reims, by 1905. A. Bergeaud, Paris, in 1910.[3] (Alex Reid & Lefèvre, Ltd., Glasgow and London), by 1927; sold to D.W.T. Cargill [1872-1939], Glasgow. (M. Knoedler & Co., New York), by 1928.[4] (Galerie Étienne Bignou, New York); sold 1941 to Duncan Phillips [1886-1966], Washington, D.C.; gift 1941 to NGA.

A-round A-gain

It was only natural,

the moon mattered more &

the stars too trivial to twinkle.

It was as expected,

as time unfolds memory,ensues, 

enframes and borders the view.

It was

more than the medium

or the membrane, the skin sheds and mind

stretches     out for much       more.

It  matters,

Even when it is all the same-

when forever ended time and again, a perfect moment

stolen in a last sunrise-

for Good.

It was only natural

light, reaches the furthest corners and bounces

back.

On a curve,  

photons careen in corners,

where

          sovereign circles can spin spirals…

Dross traces of dark matter will devour all the same,

sanding the edges

              smooth

for the first Time. 

Painting by Wassily Kandinsky, Heavy Circles 1927 [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.