love   apple   like   time   know   feel   heart   bed   little   life   home   red   boy   georgie   sleep   away   left   dear   ruth   gone   just   right   long   mind   hope   hair   mi   parts   say   fear   met   laugh   makes   sailing   make   tell   hands   day   poem   different   small   words   private   wish   legs   child   man   free   te   welcome   easy   apples   meteorite   smile   flower   want   way   arms   look   eyes   better   war   lie   good   thing   truly   teeth   passion   thought   work   seen   letters   friend   talk   brought   future   fingers   knew   imagination   sure   told   space   cold  la   mask   black   big   bite   age   size   shadow   petals   inane   stretchmarks   medic   we've   wouldn't   hear   tap   really   best   goes   face   gray   maybe   things   dream   tongue   forever   hate   set   room   death   need   truth   comes   night   lost   calves   pain   end   years   brings   touch   feet   blades   memories   new   core   times   dead   favorite   finally   minute   brain   hearts   getting   belly   far   rain   blue   knees   filled   stupid   woke   cream   fit   young   brown   se   fat   tan   cough   spoke   says   unlike   footprints   ******   rough   forward   buckle   blues   task   shoulder   grace   *******   reason   nostrils   firm   juice   palms   someday   mis   thumbs   screams   arguments   wobble   *****   elbows   *******   wrists   headaches   amo   pesky   ligaments   one-liners   thoughts   later   ash   clouds   lips   dreams   breath   mouth   hold   sense   taking   world   bit   speak   dance   gave   shall   ready   skin   air   single   breathe   button   peace   choices   hill   wrong   weak   close   use   quite   sky   phrase   darkness   justice   sound   unable   brave   holding   deep   grabbed   ****   try   building   paper   lunch   think   kind   stay   days   smooth   perfect   learned   care   fair   hard   grant   sweet   high   fruit   short   terms   kept   relationship   underneath   presence   water   looking   fool   sorrow   tree   second   delicate   nearly   happy   line   tall   tried   sad   satisfied   point   feels   falling   purpose   game   lazy   que   amor   agree   known   naught   loss   broke   failed   games   limp   grin   final   spring   act   south   flare   race   sake   car   large   wishes   neck   blink   knife   seeing   idea   steve   company   greens   spread   ship   lo   sally   sum   drowned   december   weep   sting   smiles   lessons   promises   successful   whistled   drowns   perfectly   pleasing   failure   brothers   cliche   harder   thirteen   ale   signs   limit   serenity   mundane   origin   chat   sapphires   handshakes   skinny   contagious   succeeding   super   refer   maturity   destination   civil   uncomfortable   collects   clack   liz   beatles   vez   attract   accomplishment   backside   throes   flaccid   audi   oneself   beastie   applesauce   naivete   bungalow   outie   there's   couldn't   isn't   they're   let's   'n   primos   primas   cantuta   fronton   redd's   mott's   innie   phallicly   tiny   fight   yo   para   walk   ****   hello   light   flash   silent   stone   does   forth   conversation   polite   green   minutes   ****   clear   flesh   couple   wake   anger   throw   torn   tangle   play   shattered   soldier   land   victim   carry   battlefield   came   darkest   blood   battle   warm   shine   reminds   lose   eye   dismay   hide   impossible   fast   earth   grab   stand   die   worse   year   people   white   story   hit   god   anxiety   realize   fall   asleep   dark   course   apart   morning   remain   beauty   ****   slowly   start   happen   remember   pray   past   easily   straight   mean   hand   driving   instant   thunder   messages   friends   old   coming   pen   seeds   shape   wasted   word   living   tore   shadows   knowing   bad   class   joy   trust   leaves   path   sun   ways   leave   meet   broken   head   weight   means   mountain   boys   true   stars   learn   sliced   naive   decided   player   actually   reality   ease   music   hood   desperate   promise   wishing   begin   miss   caressing   moan   thighs   heard   pretty   emotion   figure   floor   exotic   sand   hits   angel   awake   dreaming   probably   wins   seek   stretch   loved   tears   heartbreak   punk   walking   piece   furniture   unreachable   roots   near   deserve   simple   cats   tail   precious   lovers   loves   mother   tongues   clueless   share   taken   yesterday   faith   freedom   ripe   cursed   running   yes   unknown   feeling   going   stairs   opposite   wonder   afloat   packed   bones   acting   playing   wind   passions   dismissed   hourglass   reached   stares   mouths   singing   shaped   trapped   toll   dies   rock   trunk   discovered   especially   dull   choice   awful   patient   great   indoors   attached   thread   shoulders   warms   bright   bring   ending   drowning   sadness   winter   baby   looked   cute   beating   tight   kids   crying   ran   intoxicating   growing   saying   opposites   melancholy   gives   follow   clearly   dove   tu   soon   entwined   juicy   drown   laid   took   moved   bear   anyways   shirt   negative   clean   guide   sore   location   faux   nodded   glance   caught   chances   week   started   today   obvious   sweat   ***   quiet   laughed   worry   round   ladies   mama   smack   goodbye   rising   sides   wished   beds   infinite   positive   scared   admittedly   mistakes   meal   common   rises   toes   bullets   bound   suited   birth   clothes   belt   pounds   ground   barren   sitting   table   woe   swimming   stick   deepest   motion   cleared   sing   angry   action   sons   smiled   bedroom   wall   wiped   grins   mad   july   store   road   snow   pulse   important   adventure   exactly   foundation   trap   colors   floors   neon   outside   language   summer   north   fifty   served   wavy   kick   raw   thirty   row   changed   hanging   lied   drenched   companion   begins   strength   flies   direction   okay   stories   inky   stubborn   cloud   track   described   lover   replaced   pit   packs   circling   honest   wage   dinner   slave   paradox   faking   screamed   lightning   exterior   stopping   complete   deal   rifle   dependent   gifts   dancer   vision   students   horror   punch   anymore   pack   sagging   folk   honestly   tearing   prepared   creatures   listening   rhythm   unique   roar   card   glass   stage   desert   offered   fought   suffer   awoke   master   eating   furnace   glad   choir   graceful   *****   treasure   ships   bark   musical   strand   bee   finished   pink   slink   stronger   disclose   gravity   schedule   march   medicine   hates   weird   brush   laughs   helped   june   pitched   dumped   tense   sin   withdrawn   stem   proved   whispered   anew   amazing   louder   english   knocked   chilly   boots   false   mistake   toffee   whistle   smirk   gas   poised   buttons   bet   necks   elate  vi   bleak   decades   intention   plane   swollen   unseemly   en   sir   creeping   tells   success   doth   ***   balance   ant   fourth   fits   matters   pan   shook   tingle   dusty   reaching   thanked   careers   pile   tempt   ix   xi   xii   xiii   moms   hushed   spears   twinkling   works   fairytale   double   fighter   shocked   barriers   boot   thanks   solitary   lesson   owned   systems   groan   weekend   tomatoes   cider   calculating   drawer   partially   handy   stumpy   album   appealing   pet   unfortunately   jokingly   hotel   teacher   tag   eighteen   leg   dash   peep   betwixt   swear   attempt   inescapable   venues   worker   suit   coughed   remembers   rhyme   listed   chatter   stuff   assist   blocks   sheen   stanzas   jobs   cleaned   handshake   natural   moi   fantasy   cheers   smaller   curl   nay   leaning   frequent   eggs   cuando   el   desayuno   tus   beige   imperfections   difficult   darlings   overcome   oranges   keys   newfound   fairly   occasions   stats   ponder   pools   ablaze   rushes   fret   quell   breads   progress   comfortable   settling   desks   tile   trails   rainy   homemade   stunned   cemetery   plus   ideas   avocados   bananas   apply   latch   rocky   digress   experiences   vacation   sanctuary   earlier   rocket   precise   various   author   pie   explosions   *******   lighter   matched   plunged   isaac   jefferson   abe   measured   saturday   claw   welcoming   gear   trained   suffocation   leapt   gap   lee   disturbed   es   thrill   alarming   grill   frankly   importantly   una   fray   candied   amalgamation   nasty   american   optimism   guns   craters   contracted   rampant   unattainable   spilled   courts   carrots   shuffled   combined   blonde   forgave   artillery   sandwich   comfier   limitation   personalities   friday   strongly   crude   banana   tennis   limits   quaking   recesses   loot   andromeda   shells   playful   luckily   area   upwards   flail   largest   sappy   freckles   biology   fruition   cases   overtook   pinks   instruments   brownies   birthmark   reinforce   laptop   pirates   blinks   frontier   forwards   resonate   capacity   mumbled   marched   scraping   prompts   multiply   haiku   football   como   function   unfeeling   eighty   backsides   prompt   raced   blare   likewise   pro   chrome   gran   pears   puede   corazon   elated   indecisive   basketball   burgundy   synonyms   braced   effeminate   mutually   duties   companies   honeymoon   flailing   patted   mayo   headon   pero   misma   marveled   aforementioned   abhors   forefront   hesitating   identical   creepy   possessive   screeched   gotcha   infidelity   friction   barrage   nonetheless   disparate   itchy   apex   gettysburg   lunchtime   pickup   muchas   then   and   trading   distinguishable   pitches   bunk   ven   ladylike   encompasses   diagrams   underlying   spaghetti   soccer   trashcan   papa   disarming   finalmente   clashed   rosie   smirks   snapshot   pug   songbird   spitfire   yanks   thankfully   mesa   flexing   virginia   effectively   variations   eclipses   tambien   outrun   incident   vitamin   willpower   underdog   hardboiled   miniscule   checkerboard   entrust   siento   heavyweight   davis   thyroid   foreshadowing   frances   heresy   starburst   deficiency   sawing   peruvian   leche   antithesis   villanelle   alliteration   hora   vivir   clacking   droopy   whizzed   britney   futbol   parameters   disney   mangos   disproportionate   orbiting   tanka   stubby   intro   listo   goldilocks   teamwork   pbj   exemplifies   rey   retainer   tenia   triples   espanol   estuvo   castillo   ferrying   suficiente   racecar   dorky   garganta   veo   julio   peripherals   labios   rojos   foreseeable   frito   groggily   venn   macbook   inanely   hubo   goofball   you've   she's   weren't   wasn't   we're   others'   you'll   should've   haven't   what's   you'd   they'd   man's   boys'   god's   woman's   fruit's   orion's   newton's   lincoln's   adam's   momma's   ******   jackson's   audis   dulces   disproportionately   charon's   deseos   avocadoes   hailey   eran   beatles'   ingles   he   she   it   rackets   --   hashtag   sixty-three   duct-tape   joysticks   sherman's   15   6th   32   500   7th   2013   extraño   barenaked   tamales   6-year-old   tierras   derpy   ewell   rom-com   themit's   adan   mudpits   puddlepits   war--hell   culp's   shitpits   completaron   chocolatada   levantanse   duraznos   n'sync   huevo   cholitos   levantaron   manzanas   endurece   wozniak's   dispara   nuez   open-endedness   innies   cankles   dunder-mifflin   tunks   buck-toothed   outies   grief-blown   a-gawking

Dear Poet Friends, I conclude this series on The Enigma of Time by mentioning few important features about the concept of Time according to Modern Philosophy and Science. I have used a
simple format, and also tried my best to simplify the concepts for your kind appreciation. Unfortunately, there is no provision on this Poetry Site to show Diagrams to elucidate! If you like this one, kindly repost the same for wider circulation! Thank you, Raj Nandy, New Delhi.
            
       CONCLUDING THE ENIGMA OF TIME IN VERSE:
                      PART THREE – BY RAJ NANDY
              
              TIME ACCORDING TO MODERN PHILOSOPHY

UNREALITY Of TIME : Mc Taggart’s ‘A’ and ‘B’ Series:
Now skipping through the pages I come to Modern Philosophy, with Mc Taggart the British philosopher of the 20th Century.
He had acquired a substantial following with his 1908 paper on the ‘Unreality of Time’ initially.
With his quibbling argument he states, that moments in his ‘A’ Series of Time are either of past tense, present tense, or of future tense.
It is all about human perception, since we experience the past through our memories;
Become aware of the present through our senses, while future is pretty unknowable.
Here time appears to be flowing through us, as nothing remains stable around us!

In his ‘B’ Series of Time Mc Taggart expresses differences in moments of time as either Before or After,
Without using the tenses used in his ‘A’ Series of Time.
All parts in time can be expressed equally as points along a time line, in the absence of past, present, and future tense;
While here we appear to be flying through time in a metaphorical sense!
Thus in the ‘A series’ time appears to be flowing through us, but in ‘B series’ we seem to be flying through time on a timeline created by us!
Therefore, Mc Taggart finds both the ‘A’ and ‘B’ Series describing Time to be inadequate and also contradictory;
And he finally concludes that Time is unreal and does not exist in reality!

How Mc Taggart’s Theory Was  Updated :
Modern Philosophers have re-casted Mc Taggart’s theory in term of findings of Modern Physics.
His A-Theory is updated into ‘PRESENTISM’, which holds that only thing that is real is the ‘present moment’.
In ‘Presentism’ time has no past or future, and time has no duration either!
All things come into existence and drop out of existence, and past events no longer exist;
And since the future is undefined or merely potential, it too does not exist!

His B-theory is re-formulated into ‘ETERNALISM’ or the ‘Block Universe’, influenced by the later Theory of Relativity.
‘Eternalism’ holds that past events do exist even if we cannot immediately experience them, and future events also exists in a very real way.
The ‘flow of time’ we experience is just an illusion of consciousness.
Since in reality, time is always everywhere in an eternal sense!

Theory of Growing Block Universe:
It was proposed by the Englishman CD Broad in 1923, as an alternative to ‘Presentism’ where only the present exist;
And also as an alternative to ‘Eternalism’ where past, present, and future together also exist.
In ‘Growing Block Universe’ only the past and the present exist, but not the future.
Since the growing of the block happens in the present, with a very thin slice of space-time continuously coming into existence;  
Where consciousness as well as the flow of time are not active within the past,  
But they can occur only at the boundary of this ‘Growing Block Universe’!
Few scholars this concept did criticise, saying that in this theory the word ‘now’ can no longer be used to define Time!

But according to Einstein, this perception of ‘now’ that appears to move along a timeline, creating the illusion of ‘flow of time’, arises purely as a result of human consciousness;
And the way our brains are wired due to our evolutionary process, enabling us to deal with the world around us in a practical sense.
“People like us, who believe in Physics, know that the duration between the past, present, and the future is only a stubbornly persistent illusion,’’ said Einstein.

A poem on ‘The Paradox of Time’:
Now to lighten up my Reader’s mind, I present only the first three stanzas from ‘’The Paradox of Time’’, composed by the British poet Austin Dobson:
  “Time goes, you say? Ah no!
   Alas, Time stays, we go;
      Or else, were this not so,
  What need to chain the hours,
  For youth were always ours?

  Ours is the eye’s deceit
  Of men whose flying feet
     Lead through some landscape low;
  We pass, and think we see
  The earth’s fixed surface flee,
     Alas, time stays, we go!

  Once in the days of old
  Your locks were curling gold,
     And mine had shamed the crow.
  Now, in the self-same stage,
  We’ve reached the silver age,
  Time goes, you say? - ah no!
       Alas, time stays, we go!”
            
HOW LIGHT IS CONNECTED WITH THE CONCEPT OF TIME:
Brief Background:
I commence with quotes from the ‘Book of Genesis’ - Chapter One, along with my thoughts about Light and Time,
Before concluding this series with Albert Einstein’s concept of Space-Time.

“And God said, “Let there be light,” and there was light. God saw that the light was good, and he separated the light from the darkness. God called the light “day,” and the darkness he called “night.” And there was evening, and there was morning—the first day. ……And God said, “Let there be lights in the vault of the sky to separate the day from the night, and let them serve as signs to mark sacred times, and days and years, and let them be lights in the vault of the sky to give light on the earth. And it was so.”
                                                      - BOOK Of GENESIS Chapter One.

Since ancient days, Light had acquired a religious and a spiritual significance.
Since Light became associated with goodness, intelligence and ultimate realty;
Light accompanies transcendence into Nirvana of Buddhist religious philosophy.
In due course the Sun began to be worshipped as an important live-giving deity.
As seen in the symbolic form of Egyptian Sun God Ra, and the Greek gods Helios and Hyperion as the Sun god and god of Light respectively.
In Hindu mythology Surya is the Sun god, and Ushas the goddess of Light.
Huitzilopochti, both the Sun god and god of War of the Ancient Aztecs was kept pleased with human sacrifice!

SOME PROPERTIES OF LIGHT:
Plato, during the 5th Century BC said that God was unable to make the World eternal, so gave it Time,  - “as the moving image of eternity.”
While some seven hundred years later St. Augustine in his ‘Confessions’ said,
That when God created the universe out of darkness with light, “the world was also created with Time, and not in time.”
Thus along with light, time also began to flow, while our scientists discovered a connection between the speed of light and time, few centuries ago!
To understand this connection between light and time, we must first understand something about the properties of light.
Light is the visible part of the electromagnetic spectrum* which can be perceived by our human eye.         (See Notes Below)
As seen in the red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet colors of the Rainbow in the sky,
When water droplets acting like countless prisms break up white sunlight!
Now this electromagnetic spectrum also contains the ultra violet and infra red spectrum which our eyes cannot see.
But this entire electromagnetic spectrum contains Photons, which are discreet packets of zero mass less energy.
In a vacuum light photons travel at 186,000 miles for second, which Einstein declared as the cosmic speed limit, and as an universal constant.
When a photon strikes the eye, it is turned into electrical energy that is transmitted to the brain to form an image which we call sight.

NOTES : Gama-rays, X-rays, Ultraviolet lights, have shorter wave lengths & more energy than Visible light. But Infrared, Microwave, Radio waves, with larger wave lengths are less energetic than the Visible spectrum of light. Sir Isaac Newton using a prism had discovered the spectrum of visible light, & used the word ‘spectrum’ for the first time in his book ‘Optick’ in 1671.

EINSTEIN'S SPECIAL THEORY OF RELATIVITY 1905 :
In his Special Theory of Relativity of 1905, he stated that nothing can move faster than speed of light which is 186,000 miles per second.
This speed of light always remains the same, irrespective of its source and frame of reference.
Now the mass of an object would double if it travels at 90% of light’s speed.
But if the speed of light is reached, mass of an object would become infinite!
Since photons, the quantum particles that make up light have a zero mass, they move at the speed of light.
Even inside the World’s Largest Particle Collider (LDC), located near the French-Swiss Border,
Experiments are carried out only around 99.99% of Light’s speed, in accordance with the Laws of Physics.
Einstein had also shown mathematically that on reaching Light’s speed, Time will come to a standstill!
And should this Light’s speed be exceeded, then Time would start to travel backwards, which becomes a mind boggling concept!
Here we enter into the realm of science fiction, which has been described by HG Wells  in his popular novel ‘The Time Machine’.
But to become a time traveler shall always remain our cherished desire and dream!

NOTES: Only mass less particles like the photon can travel at light speed, photons experience no time, they do not age. Objects with mass cannot reach the speed of light since in that case its mass will become infinite. Also, one cannot see the fourth dimension because of Lorenz Contraction, which is also related to stopping of time, for at the speed of light an object will shrink to zero length! Also, particles interact with the Higgs' Field present all around to pick up mass, excepting photons which do not interact with this Higgs' Field.

Now Einstein’s theory of 1905 is called ‘Special’, because it explains how space and time are linked for objects that are moving in a straight line at a greater speed but which is constant.
Time moves relative to the observer, and objects in motion experience ‘Time Dilation’.
Meaning, time moves slowly when it is in motion, as compared to one who is standing still, -  a relative comparison.
This can be further explained by the ‘Twin Paradox’, where a 15 year old travelling in a spaceship at 99.5% speed of light for a period of 5 years,
Returns back to Earth to find himself to be only 20 years old.
But to his surprise he finds, his twin brother on Earth who was left behind, has reached the ripe age of 65 !

Limitations of Special Theory of Relativity:
It was confined to non-accelerating bodies only, and after ten years of deliberation,
Einstein added gravitational force field, space-time curvature, and acceleration, -
To formulate his General Theory of Relativity with satisfaction.

   SPACE-TIME & GENERAL THEORY OF RELATIVITY 1916 :
Isaac Newton during the 17th Century spoke about 'absolute time' and 'absolute space', accordance to the understanding of science of his Classical Age.
Space was the arena where the drama of the universe was played out, and this arena was passive, eternal, and unchanging no doubt.
Time too was absolute with an independent existence, and continued to beat independently like the heart beat of Space!
Newton also gave us the Laws of Motion, and Gravity, with more massive objects exerting more Gravity than a less massive one in reality.
Now one aspect of Special Relativity is that space and time are merged into a four-dimensional space-time entity,
They do not exist as separately as envisaged by Newton and Descartes during the 17th Century.
Some 250 years later Albert Einstein, defined Gravity as a curvature of Space-time.
Einstein also tells us that gravity can bend light, which travels along the curvature of this space-time.
Gravity is flexible, it could stretch like a fabric warping of space-time caused by objects present within it, in fact Gravity is the shape of space-time itself!
The Moon rolls around the curvature created in space-time fabric by the heavier object the Earth,
Just like the massive Sun which creates the depression and curvature around it for the planets of our solar system to orbit round the Sun. *
Einstein’s space-time has been likened to a stretched out vast rubber sheet,
Where heavier the planet, more depression it creates on the fabric of space-time along with its own gravitational field.
Einstein’s Space is not passive like that of Newton, but has a dynamic presence.
Interwoven with Time, Space tells Matter how to move, while Matter tells Space-Time how to curve - in this dynamic presence!
The constant speed of light at 186,000 miles per second, is just a measure of space of something which travels over time;
But both space and time had to adjust themselves to accommodate the constant speed of light!
Thus space, time, and the speed of light are all unified in the General Theory of Relativity,
We owe all this to Albert Einstein, one of the greatest scientists of our Century.
NOTES: **Planets orbiting the Sun do not fall back into the void of space due to the attraction of gravity, and also due to their individual speed of acceleration maintained in orbit as per Kepler's Second Law of Planetary Motion. Mercury has the fastest orbital speed of 48 km per second, Venus at 35 km per sec , and Earth at 30 km per sec. as their orbital speeds. Planets further from the Sun require lesser orbital speed.

UNFINISHED WORK OF EINSTEIN:
During his later years Einstein was secretly working to find a ‘Theory of Everything’,
Which would ultimately replace the erratic tiny micro world of Quantum Mechanics.
His Theory of General Relativity had dealt with the functions of gravity at the greater macro level of the universe only.
So he hoped to extend this theory to find an all embracing Unified Field Theory.
For at the subatomic quantum level, as the Englishman Thomson discovered in 1897,
The electrons inside an atom at times behaved in an alien fashion and were very unstable!
This world of the subatomic particles is a wondrous world where time becomes chaotic;
Where the position of the electrons cannot be predicted with certainty!
Einstein called this unpredictable and unstable behaviour of electrons as "spooky action at a distance"!
In the ‘double-split experiment’ it was seen, that the light photons behaved both like waves and as particles, -
Even though the speed of light remained constant.

EINSTEIN'S NOBLE PRIZE For PHYSICS AWARDED IN 1921:
Now despite Einstein's dissatisfaction with Quantum Mechanics it is rather ironical,
That the Nobel Prize in Physics was awarded to Einstein for his work on the ‘Photoelectric Effect’ at the Quantum level;
Which for the first time had suggested that Light travelled in Waves and also as Particles ( i.e. as photon)!
This observation led to the development of electron microscope, solar panels, night vision devices, at a later date.
Since his Special and General Theory of Relativity considered as ‘The Pillars of Modern Physics’, was still being examined by the Scientific Community;
And they could be proved and accepted only subsequently.

'STRING THEORY' PROPOSED AS THEORY FOR EVERYTHING:
During the 1970s the proponents of ‘String Theory’ had claimed, They found a Theory of Everything, following Einstein’s quest.
They claimed that micro vibrating open and closed looped strings gave rise to some 36 particles at the subatomic level;
But also required 10 dimensions for this 'String Theory' to operate!
In our Standard Model of Physics we have only 18 particles as on date, therefore due to lack of scientific evidence,
There was no Noble Prize for those ‘String Theory’ proponents!
Efforts are on to find a Unified Theory of Everything, and to understand the mysteries of God’s infinite universe, -
We finite humans have just made a beginning!

Now, to reduce the length of my composition I conclude with a short verse by the famous novelist and poet DH Lawrence, -
Who had shocked Victorian England with his explosive ****** novel “Lady Chatterley’s Lover”,
Which later inspired Hollywood, and a film got made.

               RELATIVITY
“I like relativity and quantum theories
because I don’t understand them,
and they make me feel as if space shifted about like
a swan that can’t settle,
refusing to sit still and be measured;
and as if the atom were an impulsive thing
always changing its mind.”  – DH Lawrence.

Thanks for reading patiently,
‘All Copy Rights Are With The Author Only’, - Raj Nandy of New Delhi.

You can feel it spinning
                                         fast
the Chinese, Japanese, American and European junk
orbiting at several thousand miles per hour could
                                                           ­                             punch
a hole in your armor, future. Thanksgiving passes, then Christmas.
A nuclear detonation, we absorb that fact. The scientist in us
delays sadness by recording observations. What is is,
sorrow's for tomorrow.

By reducing probabilities to near zero I hope to avoid sorrow.
In yr suburb.
In history when there were many fewer people we still found reason
to cross space, explore, trade and war. Now
                                                             ­                 overpopulation
may not be the problem but food and water shortages
get our attention.
                              I have Korf's fears.
And hear what I want to hear.

Some hear singing, some hear speeches or complaining.
Martin Luther King sang his complaints, dreamed of a brotherly nation
which came to pass, spinning fast, past Thanksgivings, past jailings
into reconnaissance, small wars, drones, renaissance, inventions.
At the border,
                         where the Juaristas fought Maximilian:
Benito Juarez (1806-1872) Zapotec Amerindian who served five terms as president of Mexico. He was the first Mexican leader who did not have a military background and also the first full-blooded indigenous person to lead a country in the western hemisphere in over 300 years. For resisting French occupation, overthrowing the Empire, and restoring the Republic, Juarez is regarded as Mexicoxs greatest and most beloved leader. 

Each soldier chooses what war at what border, or just
                                                            ­                                   shows up
spinning with the planet.
The neighborhood and surrounding nature is orderly.
But always there is implied force, violence holding it together,
                                                       ­                                                       chaos
is contained
kept out of the playground, government buildings, childrenxs games
but lies within
the force maintaining order, a spinning tumor, a gyroscope of
                                                              ­                                                inertia.
The force of the spinning, the speed of the force bring one to one's
      death
seasons, weather, earth.
                                         While the emperor's being beheaded
enduring seeds are discovered and invented, cross-fertilized and bred.
Corn, yams, potatoes, sunflowers, rice.
                                                           ­       Food is life and a good study,
useful discipline
                           daily meditation.
                                                     ­   The fighting man protects the farmer
and the farmer feeds the fighting man.
They elect the governor
                                        who serves the people. Peace out.

Peace and war are transitory manifestations of spinning
electrons, planets.
                               The sun's a nuclear detonation, essential
to spring and planting. Food is life. Seeds endure
if man goes to his daily discipline. If woman is man.
Birth and death
                           together are orderly, the border can be known,
voluntarily. How we live together, by prayer or force,
is our story.

Knowledge
from laboratory to starry corridor keeps us very
                                                            ­                         versed.
Did Juaristas consider the rights of animals not to be eaten?
Not during that spinning.
                                              And perform the history that surrounds us.
All that can be done
is written in the spinning:
"The people of the land, the Indian farmers of North America - like their counterparts in Mesoamerica, the Andean region, and the Amazon - have continuously cultivated maize, beans, squash and other crops for more than five thousand years. One of the salient features of their traditional farming systems is the high degree of biodiversity. These traditional farming systems have emerged over centuries of cultural and biological evolution, and they represent the accumulated experience of indigenous farmers interacting with the environment without access to external inputs, capital or scientific knowledge. In Latin America alone, more than 2.5 million hectares under traditional agriculture in the form of raised fields, polycultures, agroforestry systems and the like document indigenous farmers' successful adaptations to difficult environments."

Tantalized by the fractious limerence of a vestigial habiliment of the old order, we conclude that hypertrophy leads to a limbo where random permutations alloyed by the rickety limits of concatenation subsume concepts that are equivocal but populate the imaginations of newfangled art forms that jostle the midwives of rumination to lead to unique pastures that are intuitively calibrated to correspond to definitive unitary events in conceptual space that sprawl unexpectedly towards the desultory but determinative conclusion of a meandering ludic sphere of rambunctious sentiments cobbled together to either rivet the captive audience or annoy the peevish criticaster when they dare to inseminate the canvassed and corrugated tract of intellectual territory created ad hoc to swelter the imagination with audacious ingenuity that is an inevitable byproduct of lexical hypertrophy. In this séance with the immaterial realm of concept rather than the predictable clockwork reductivism of a perceptual welter that is limited by the concretism circumscribed by spatiotemporal stricture we find that an extravagant twinge of even the smallest tocsin in the interstitial carousel of conscientious subroutines compounding recursively to pinprick the cossetted smolder of potentiality rather than extravagate into the vacancy of untenanted nullibiety can spawn a progeny of utilities and vehicles for dexterous abstraction that poach the exotic concepts we fathom by degrees of sapience malingering in lifeless bricolages of erratic abstraction in manners useful to transcend the repose of abeyance and heave awakening into the slumberous caverns of still-life to make them dynamically animated to capture ephemeral events that defy the demarcations of wistful indelicacy of the encumbered bulk of insufficient precision.

Today we embark on a quest to defile the anoegenetic recapitulation of canon that litters the dilapidated avenues of miserly contemplation that has a histeriological certainty and feeds the engines that enable novelty but ultimately remain rancid with the stench of the idiosyncratic shibboleths of synoptic alloyed impoverishment that leads to the vast wasteland of cremated entropy that is a stained foible of misappropriated context interpolated usefully as botched triage for daunting problems that require a nimble legerdemain of facile versatility that we easily adduce to conquer the present with the botched memorial of a defunct salience. Despite the travail of scholars to retreat from the frontier into the hypostatized hegemony of recycled credentialed information, we often are ensnared by the solemn attrition of decay as we traverse the conceptual underpinnings of all bedrock thought only to dangle precariously near the void of lapsed sentience because of transitory incontinence that is contiguous to the doldrums of crudity but nevertheless with mustered mettle we purport that the very self-serious awakening to our hobbling limitations is akin to a prosthetic enhancement of ratiocination capable of feats that stagger beneath the lowest level of subtext to elevate the highest superordinate categorization into heightened scrutiny that burgeons metacognitive limber. Marooned in the equipoise of specifiable enlightenment countermanded by the strictures of working memory we can orchestrate transverse pathways between the elemental quiddity of impetuous meaning and the dignified tropes of transitivity that bequeaths entire universes with feral progeny that modulate their ecosystems with both a taste of approximated symmetry and a cohesive enterprise for productivity that rests on the granular concordance of the highest plane to the indivisible parcels of atomic meaning that solder together to exist as intelligible if strained by the primordial frictions guaranteed by the brunt of motion incipient because of the metaphorical inertia created within insular universes to inform sprawling conurbations of mobilized thoughts designed to reckon with the breakneck pace of the corresponding reality to which they explicitly and precisely refer to.

We must singe surgically the filigrees that amount to the perceptible realities that transmute temperaments into the liturgy of routine conflated with the rigmarole of neural dragnets of reiterative quips in an elegant game of raillery with our supernal contumacy against the rigid authority of aleatory vagaries mandated by a dually arbitrary universe in a probabilistic terpsichorean dance with the depth of our dredge for subliminal acuity or the shallow bellicosity of common modes of glib contemplation characteristic of the basic nobility of improvisation. This basic interface with the world can either be mercurial or tranquil based on the interactionism of the enfeebled trudge of surface senses or blunt intuitions and the smoldering impact of the vestigial cloaks that deal gingerly with the poignant subtext evoked in the cauldron of immediacy rather than pondered with the portentous weight of imperative singularities of uniqueness derived from the plunge into the arcane citadel of microscopic introspection so refined that the ineffable drives we seek to fathom become amenable to the traipse of transcendental time that rarefies itself by defying the brunt of compartmentalized bureaucracies administered by the fulcrum of stereotypical notions of acquired gravitas imputed to mundane pedestrian quidnunc concerns that defile humanity rather than embolden the subaudition of gritty punctilios that show the supernal powers of the axiomatic divinity of sharpened sentience to reign with supremacy over the baser ignoble components of bletcherous nescience that leads to knee-**** platitudes that provoke folksy peevish divisions. We should rather orchestrate our activity by heeding the admonishment about the primogeniture of poignant sabotage buffered by the remonstration of innate tranquility and finding a whipsawed compromise of rationalization with true visceral encounters with the fulgurant quips of brisk emotions that grind industriously into amorphous retinues of the trenchant human imagination to either equip or hobble the leapfrogged interrogation of veracity and more consequently our notions of truth and fact.

When we see the hackneyed results of default ecological dynamics, we find ourselves aloof from purported transcendence because the whimpered bleats and cavils of the importunate masses result in a deafening din of cacophony because we strive throbbing with sprightliness towards the galloped chase of tantalization without the luxury of a terminus for satiation. Obviously a growth mindset is the galvanic ****** that spawns the imaginative swank of the pliable modulations of our perceived reality that, when protean, showcase the limitless verve of our primordial cacoethes for epigenetic evolution rather than the stolid and staid foreclosure of impervious sloth that memorializes the gluttony of speculation about fixed entities rather than imperative jostling urbanity that dignifies the brackish dance with dearth and the exuberant savory taste of momentary excess because it engages the animated pursuit of limerence rather than the exhumed corpse of wistful regret. Nature is a cyclical clockwork system of predatory instinct met with the clemency of the prosperous providence enacted by the travailing ingenuity of successive cumulative generativities that compounded unevenly and unpredictably to predicate a fundamental zeitgeist calculated to engorge the fattened resources of the resourceful and temper the etiolated dreams of the fringed acquiescence of a hulking prejudiced population of dutiful servants that balk at the diminutive prospects of a lopsided distribution of talent and means but slumber in irenic resolve created by the merciful hands of defensive designs that configure consciousness to relish comparative touchstones rather than absolute outcomes that straggle beyond a point of enviable reference to shield the world of the barbarism of botched laments clamoring for an uncertain grave from the gravity of the orbiting satellites of apportioned wealth both sunblind and boorish but simultaneously inextricable from the acclimated fortune of heaped nepotism and herculean opportunism. The intransigence of the weighted destiny of inequity is a squalid enterprise of primeval abrasive and combative tendencies within the bailiwick of the indignant compass inherent to the system that fathoms its deficiencies with crabwise and gingerly pause but airs a sheepish grievance like a bleat of self-exculpation but simultaneously an arraignment of fundamental attribution erroneously indicted without the selfsame reflexiveness characteristic of a transcendent being with other recourses to clamber an avenue to Broadway without malingering in the slums of opprobrious ineffectual remonstration against the arrangement of a blinkered metropolis of uneven gentrification.

We flicker sometimes between the strategic drivel of appeasement and the candor of audacious imprecation of the culprits of indignity or considerate nutritive encomium of the beacons of ameliorated enlightenment because we often masquerade a half-witted glib consciousness lazily sketched by the welters of verve alloyed with the rancid distaste of squalor and slumber on the faculty of conscientious swivels of prudential expeditions with an avarice for bountiful considered thought and wily contortions of demeanor that issue the affirmative traction of adaptive endeavor to cheat a warped system for a reconciled peace and a refined self-mastery. We need to traduce the urchins that sting the system with pangs of opprobrious ballyhoo and the effluvia of foofaraw that contaminate with pettifoggery and small-minded blather the arenas better suited for the gladiatorial combat of cockalorums tinged with a dose of intellectual effrontery beyond the span of dogmatism rather than the hackneyed platitudes that infest the news cycle with folksy backwardation catered to the fascism of a checkered established press that urges insurrection while tranquilizing dissent against the furtive actions of consequence hidden behind the draped verdure of pretense whose byproduct is only a self-referential sophistry that swarms like an intractable itch to devolve the spectator into a pasquinaded spectacle of profound human obtuseness that pervades malignantly the system of debate until the reductionists outwit themselves with the empty prevarication of circular logic that deliberately misfires to miss the target of true importance because of the pandered black hole easily evaded by creatures of high sentience but inevitably ensnaring the special kind of dupe into a cycle of bellicose ferocity of internecine balkanization. The vainglory of the omphalos of entertainment is also another reckoning because it festers a cultural mythos of glorified crapulence parading a philandered promiscuity with half-baked antics that gravitate attention and the lecheries of gaudy tenses of recycled tinsel alloyed by debased aberrations of seedy grapholagnia that magnetize as they percolate because of the insidious catchphrases embedded in pedestrian syncopation that ignite retention and acclimate to mediocrity the sounds of generations discolored by faint pasty rainbows rather than ennobled by majestic landscapes of ignipotent mellifluous sound that stands a supernal amusement still for the resourceful trainspotter.

Despite the contumely aimed in the direction of contrarians for deviating from the lockstep clockwork hustle of stooped pandered manipulation that peddles the wares of an entirely counterfeit reality, I stand obstinately against the melliferous stupefaction of entire genres of myth and subcultures huddled around the sentimental tug of factitious sophistries regaled by thick amorphous apostates that cherish the vacuous sidetracked spotlight with fervor rather than pausing on the enigmatic querulous inquisition about the penumbras that lurk with strained effort beneath or above the categorical nescience of the shadowy unknown that often coruscates with elegance even in obscurity. I fight with labored words to spawn a psychological discipline that invokes the incisive subaudition of the pluckily pricked exorcism of true insight from the husk of buzzwords that constellate auxiliary tangential distractions from the art form of psychological discernment that predicates itself on the concept that the rarefaction of rumination by degrees of microscopic precision enables the introspective hindsight of conscious events that can be parsed without the acrimony of cluttered conflations of the granular prowess of triumphant ratiocination that earns a panoramic perch with the added luxury of perspicacious insight into the atomic structure of the rudiments of our phenomenological field and the abstractions that linger beyond perceptual categorization. When we analyze the gradients of anger, for example, we can either be ****** into a brooded twinge of wistful resentment or we can decipher that through heuristics designed to cloister the provenance of subconscious repose with ignorance there exists a regimented array of tangential accessories embedded deep within the cavernous repository of memory that designates a cumulative trace of compounded symmetries of concordant experience immediately perceptible because of the tangible provocateur of our gripes and the largely subliminal tusk that protrudes because of primal instinct that squirms with peevishness because of the momentary context preceded by the desultory churn of smoldering associations swimming with either complete intangible sputtered mobility through the tract of subconscious hyperspace or rigidly fixated by an arraignment of circumstances with propinquity to the deep unfathomed flicker of bygones receding or protruding because of the warped and largely unpredictable rigmarole of constellated spreading activation.  
When we examine the largesse of the swift recourse of convenience we forget by degrees the travail that once bridged the span of experience from patient abeyance in provident pursuit to now the importunate glare of inflated expectations for immediacy that stings the whole enterprise of societal dynamics because it vitiates us with a complacency for the filigrees of momentary tinsel of a virtualized reality divorced from the concretism that used to undergird interaction and now stands outmoded as a wisp beyond outstretched hands straggling beyond the black mirror of a newfangled narcissistic clannishness that shepherds the ostentation of conceit to a predominant position that swaddles us with fretful diversion that operates on a warped logic of lurid squalor and pasty trends becoming the mainstays of a hypercritical linguistic system of entrapment based on the apostasy of candor for the propitiation of fringed aberration because of the majoritarian uproar about touchy butthurt pedantic criticasters with a penchant for persnickety structuralism. With the infestation of entertainment with the ubiquitous political cavils engineered by the ruling class to have a common arena of waggish irreverence we forget that sometimes the impetuous ****** of propaganda is cloaked by the fashionable implements of a rootless time writhing in a purported identity crisis only to gawk at the ungainly reflection of modernity in the mirror and remain blissfully unaware about the transmogrified cultural psyche that feeds the lunacy of endless spectacle based on the premise that one singular whipping post can unite an entire generation of miscegenated misfits looking for commonality to team up against the aging generations that cling to the sanctity of cherished jingoism against the intentionality of a revamped system that malingers with empty promises using exigency and legerdemain to obscure the mooncalves among their ranks that march on with quixotic dreams that tolerate only the idea of absolute tolerance and moderate only when feasibly permitted by the anchored negotiation of the fulcrum of totemic governmental responsibility between factions that wage volleys of invective at each other to promote a binary choice of vitiated compromises of mendaciloquence that ultimately endanger the republic with either the perils of hidebound conventionalism and nativist fervor or the boondoggles of fiscally irresponsible insanity cloaked with rainbows and participation trophies. Reproach can be distributed to both sides of the aisle because ironically in a world where gender is non-binary the most important reproductive ***** in the free world is a binary-by-default despotism that polarizes extremely ludic fantasies on the left met with the acrimony of the traditionalisms on the right that staunchly resist the fatuous confusions of delegated order only to the sharp rebuke of the revamped political vogue that owes its sustenance to a manufactured diplomacy of saccharine lies and ubiquitous lampoons that are lopsided in the direction of a globalist neoliberal bricolage of moderately popular buzzwords and the trojan horse of insubordinate flippant feminism that seeks to subvert through backhanded manipulation the patriarchy so many resent using lowbrow tactics and poignant case studies rather than legislating the egalitarian system into law using the proper channels. I myself am a political independent who sides with fiscal conservatism but libertarianism in most other affairs because the pettifoggery of law-and-order politics is a diatribe overused by sheltered suburbanites and red meat is often just as fatuous as blue tinsel and sadly in a majoritarian society the ushers of conformity demand corporate divestiture in favor of an ecological system of predictability rather than an opinionated welter of legitimate challenges to a broken system of backwards partisanship and wangled consent. Ultimately, I remain mostly apolitical, but I am a fervent champion of the mobilization of education to a statelier standard that demands rigor and responsibility rather than the chafe of rigmarole that understates the common objectives of humanity and rewards conventional thinking and nominal participation to earn credentialed pedigree when the bulk of talent resides elsewhere.

I know not how many
million stars there are.
But I know there is
only one earth.

Maybe we have counted
the protons of the atom
as many it has in its nucleus
counted the electrons on the run
orbiting the nucleus.
But the spinning circle is a zero
yet to compute the unifying one!
It's a pattern spans the universe.

I know there are
billions of us human
out there on earth.
But all I want is only one.
Just to count on
a permanent one!  

The big earth
is a bigger zero null.
Standing on barefoot
without the perpetual one.
No glue, no roof nor a sign
only on one pure rigid science!

(0)
Fly perfectly straight and high, and show the fly
out of the fly-bottle on your way.
Rise to victory, far above the blue sky,
and reap the reward: the opening of paradise!

The road ahead is clear and open this way,
with things small and big growing and disappearing up this way.
You will see sunrises and sunsets waxing and waning,
with mention of the moon and stars in the dark.
Be mindful as you sway, it's got to be laser-sharp.
There is no hard shoulder on this highway,
miss it by an inch and risk losing everything forever!

There is hope, there is light up high
pick up your paintbrush, just like the sun does
goodness knows how it sneaks in, right in the black
canvas of the night, painting the first light
lo, it shows up in heaven, the candle of the daylight.

As long as there is a man and a woman,
never give up, our canary bird can fly
rosy or not, the nest in every morn nets a sunrise!

(1)
A woman indeed plucks up the courage
she never had to look up to the stars
be it for the guide or the light in the night.
Fathima herself was the full Moon every night
is thanks to her Godsent innate light.

With it, she can bask in the full spread of the pi
on top of its short decimals mounting high
constantly as if countless stars in the sky.

The time and space under the sun
and that under Fathima's light
are far apart from each other
yet they coexist side by side.

As she points out,
"A circle is masculine
while pi is feminine."

Pi forms the circle with fine prints,
decimal dots continue to spring,
sprawling trillions of new digits,
the bandwagon is still increasing.
Connecting the dots is an untouched dream.

The full moon pi picture is veiled,
unseen at large, yet in short, 3.145 it can live!

(2)
Fathima flies her lock of hair
in the lurking air of the transcended pi
the primitive feminine does that,
no wonder she is God's secret feminine opus!
An immeasurable black hole lies in between
the short and transcended pi, running like a river,
dancing anew on every riverbank
in the many curls of Fathima's jet black hair.

She lent out a hair to the planet earth
and crossed over like a silhouette
without spilling out the colour
of the transcended end of the pi.
The earth takes it in the core in her heart
as if it would keepsake it forever.

Weaving the pi in Fathima embeds two hairs ties one
perfect circle at the back and one at the front of the universe.
Inside each hair the earth is finest fluid in the core
none is as deep as high as proportionate a perfect flow.
No time is as revealing no music is as sweet in this orb
no force is as mighty nor as prevailing a true giant
causing gravity and the heat at the earth's core.
Matter and spirit mix free in the play both wax lyrical
thanks to the pure resonance of 'Qun Be' the word of God!

(3)
The way to the earth's core is exposed to none other
save the Angel of Death the lucky one.

See both sides of the one lofty sky swathed in countless stars  
but the day and night render through still remains an unseen one  
Terra is shalet zeroed in Fathima is heaven on earth!  
Up in the sky-high bank turning the starry bowl upside down
Fathima took no star nor a pearl diving deep down the Arab water,
the brightest luminary came after Muhammad (PBUH),
in veil from the Night of Measures and into the flipside in the night
she's gone without lifting the veil but left her penetrating mark.

Few could find the shortcut contemplating on a blank canvas
the Moon looks down into the abyss down the sea eyes on far
for a mirror in the bottom on the as above so below matter
since Godsent Fathima touched on the all-inclusive primitive water.
The sun gets caught up in the very water dew she raised in the sky
the ancient fold of time still unfurls with the sun-kissed flowers
for the new hands yet the fingerprint on the sun remains only her!

Azrael heads to Fathima around the year 632 after death
touches down in Medina on his usual thin earth he steps.  
But this time a little mundane dust couldn't be thicker
he keeps descending deep down to the earth's centre
following from Medina but the angel locates her
inside the perfect circle a closed geometric figure.

(4)
Fathima is the female headline her secret is not all known
when she used to visit the Prophet Muhammad (PBUH)
he would stand up for her hold her hand and kiss it
and seat her on his seat, she would do the same to the prophet
when he would visit her like they did know each other
in and outside the spheres of heaven and earth!

She is the embodiment of the infinite feminine variations
the first spiritual woman created following God's word Qun.
Her is the mother tongue of the ever diversified feminine lingua
no one woman on her own can rhyme with her alone
she has no peer her rhetoric is unique like none other.
The galactic run from planet to planet up on the starry ladder
climbing high up the mountain heaven yet streams out like oval
off their rock bottom stone until that unleashes the final run
in perfect circle delving into the rhythm of the loop at the centre
made of Fathima's hair charged by 'Qun' God's uncreated word.  

Prophet David can sing on the bank of the river
and can see the fish are jumping to him out of the water.
The masculine is open form, eye on everywhere,
but not her the woman is in juxtaposition her
all-inclusive schema supplanting the details rest only on her.
She is the unseen world within the world at best imagine her!
Guess, through this inwardly open door who might disappear?
It's nature before the scientist on ultimate discovery of the matter!  

Aligning with her down the rainbow up high the land absorbs
the grooming sky looking on the running rivers within her.
Her words spread through like the smart cloud that flies far
over the lands and valleys but not even the wind none other
gets a sniff of the potion and melody it caries until that rain down
without a hurdle without a visual she moves on at the target
such a soul needs no after death lift from the angel of death.

Before Azrael Fathima loses an arc of the circle then and there
so not the earth but giant Azrael can take the pressure!
Marked by a fluid discharge since then she is cooling this fire
In Shaa Allah God willing when she ajars it, it will be elixir!  

(5)
Draw a straight line, but it won't be perfect
it keeps bending, fly straight touching the sky
the flight path won't look like a straight line
it would be like the crest of a crescent moon
like curve touched the sky, like climbing up
atop the pyramid is not going high straight on
it goes up from the widespread seked slopes.

Moves in golden ration 1.618 not the full two
and gets the designing formula flawlessly full
micro to macro all levels all the way to the true north!    

Fathima being the original feminine eyeing at her
she can tap in the knowhow of naturally feminine nature.
And discovers the immanent pattern - the world
is pre-designed and measured is never a coincidence.
The creatures' creativity, scientist's science
is to follow, discover working formulas like phi and pi.

Play along it works until an unknown hour strikes
comes with accurate knowledge dead on time
numerically correct never miss taking a life away
as if it was calculated beforehand before the birth.
A newborn is born for a limited time
already set but no one knows when it goes up  
is a deadlock clock but it isn't so shrouded
in the blueprint of the creatures' grand design
there the clock ticks safe and sounds it never dies!  

(6)
Fathima hailing from the other side of the pool
eyes on the ever live pre-design side of the creation!
Then its corporeal face was only a water drop,
the primitive one looks see-through it has dead zero
knowledge of its lively other side of the pool.
She comes closer and perfectly mirrors both sides
that shines through on her reflected face on the water.
An absolute new image that livens up the dead part
Bang - Big Bang! The corporeal world gets the spark
explodes out from the very first drop of the water!

Fathima's appearance was miraculously instrumental
God reveals nature the finite and infinite, 0 and 1,
future in the present and the death and life in play!
Nature follows suit it just saw the perfect role model
banged out but only to its corporeal set
it aspires to be with its infinite reality yet!

Fathima leaves the door open constructing a perfect circle,
hardly straight, took the mixed bag of countless variations
she zooms into the abyss irrational portion of the first matter,
the primitive water drop and aces the circle with her hair
that nothing can equate throughout the corporeal world.
Done the math discovering the zero starting point at the bottom.
The ocean of digit numbers, the DNA of all things material
banged out of it, still, the zero is numberless irrational!

(7)
All things, within oneself and in a set constantly vibrate,
strive to align with the enduring reality of itself.
The atom vibrates to reach out to its immortal portion
that doesn't die and is in the know of its lower base.
The planets are in a defined circular orbit, accurately measured
just the apex on top of their dynamic pyramid the pyramidon
is tucked away; they too have an irrational portion in the circle.

With the finest spin, they zoom in the spacious universe,
in part and like the sun outside the constellations round they go
never miss a target line yet to re-discover Fathima's perfect circle
the origin of their digital essences' breakthrough
the door to their transcended destination de jour.
Lo the matter turns the last stone pulsing across the cosmos
the mortal horizontal spread, the spirit returns home.

The earth has a line in its swansong it has a place in paradise
it's not here to stay for good neither to perish forever!

Matters form and break without losing the rope,
it's not to paint the shades of the eternal blue
but to ace an irrational portion in the circle
at the heart of the earth, as above, so below.  
The deep the high the perfect circle
up and down the centre of gravitation for all!

At even and at odd the vibration within the matter is fluid
somewhere is parched there the arch matter must make a splash.
Far away on that dark beach, the full-fledged sea of the matters
outpours its billowy potion with the Moon on the frontline
from deep within the physical world's most glowed up firefly!

(8)
The seven seas swell up smoothly into the moonlight-dip
oh, the waterless Moon at the core is still fasting.
Led by time the sweet swan punting along the waves
streams down the watery inner circle of the planets.
Until stuck in the Moon no water in the last waterfront
but paradise is on the other side of the pool!  

The sun dips away into the night
while the eve baths in the shades of pink and gold,
the dazzling hues soon turn to taupe.
Drawing down painting the picture in full colour
only to find the time is up on the halfway,
yet to print a colour copy of the night!
The other unseen half is passed down to the Moon
tiptoeing in slow motion in the depths of the night
barely keeping the head afloat in a fathomless ocean
of shades of black hails from where knows no one.  

The sun enkindles the moon half-lit keeping itself away
amid shadows as if comparing the shades now it knows
a Mehrem a veiled female is ahead not to look on or
compared to that the sun has no light or true are both.

Wrapped in the eternal night beneath its black mole
once the moon on the front approaching most close
directly down to the centre of the earth eyes on
over that inlaid string hairy black perfect circle
never did it turn back the same gaze is still on
orbiting around the earth in synchronous rotation.

(9)
The never-ending night is becoming a night indeed
it's coming to an end so soon in our time.
In Shaa Allah I will see it with my eyes before I die
in the Night of Measures in an odd night in Ramadan
Fathima from the transcendental end of irrational heart
will turn on top of the curve opening for the first time
a 9-degree angle in the circle at the centre of the earth.

Instantly the leading force, time will get the first sniff
of the other world, so peaceful heart-melting serene.
Rapturous time feeling an ounce of the enduring peace
for the first time cutting all the corners with ease
will be propelled into its yet uncharted golden mean.
Scurrying to the peaceful abode time will be on its wings
across the globe, people will be stunned seeing
how first the times pass from then on incredibly quick!

Fathima, the first spiritual woman on duty, will start
pulling her hair back off the circle at the centre
Juxtaposed in between the worlds of here and hereafter.
She will take back every inch of it, the heavenly bodies
will feel the pinch of her every little subtle pull
that too is a boon helping them perfect their circle.

(10)
Soon she opens it just 9-degree wide at first
the Moon will see a glimpse of the first drop of water.
Without it, it's living perched without the water of life
that's destined to rain down soon and the Moon
back into its original pond shall revive!
Mapping the pi's whole infinitesimals playground
finally, Fathima will turn the circle upside down
on the dot the stunned sun shall rise in the western sky!

By now under Fathima's hair's shaded closed circle
it must have sailed far over the blue sky in the other world.
Billowing with the breeze over the sea of uncharted water
and stacking to the brim with all that it could discover
humbly stood like a cloud in that corner of the sky.

The time is finally ticking fast to rain down with love
paradise's welcoming schema rendering in waterpaint drops
on the Moon over the sea of matters, that's most glowed up firefly
ah, finally can break the fast sipping in a drop of elixir!
It's their heavenly adopted, Miʿrāj performed, primitive water.
The Moon with the seven seas will leave off the corporeal shell
gliding gracefully with this stately water nymph as if it never dies
and will make a splash plopping into the pond of paradise!  

For the matter ultimately is water and its extent is sound
Fathima will fetch it the water of life and take it to the next life!
Oh, the matter shall do both die and revive with Israfil's sound
the cloud will fly out of the dead water on the ground,
like the earth with chorus songs of the rain revives.
When that a melodious nymph in the water makes waves
see paradise is here the Moon over the sea can't take off its eyes.

(11)
Hang on though they all set ready on their horizontal span  
to pull in such a fluid yet colourful descending like a rainbow swan.
First chaste Fathima will evaporate her hair's perfume away
that's yet lingering in the water warming it up to its premium
no crowd then can see where this heady, fragrant cloud will fly!
There are the momentum and delights where that will alight.

Israfil might then blow his trumpet swooning the world away
the secret will remain a secret exception is said in the Qur'an.
A strange sound will silence the chorus of the innate digits
collapsing the floating cosmos bubbling on their music.  
The corporeal circle will collapse as if there is no base no pi
the melody of the first word Qun means Be will still be loud
supercalifragilisticexpialidocious so how can we all expire?

Israfil too will play his reviving trumpet pure mellifluous
and In Shaa Allah numerically perfect Fathima will rise
amidst the resonant Qun as like she did in the beginning
when except prophet Muhammad (PBUH) there was nothing!
Now the earth once zeroed in beneath her hair will follow her
the stunned terra will discover Fathima took her hair away
only to shift the constellation up onto the upper world!

The old songs of the planets the chorus of the digits will revive
from the zero bases in the core the digital panache that dance
planet upon the planet as if they are always at the perfect hertz.

Indeed that is yet to come, the arts of the fine layers
opening from the irrational pi, the finest one is to flower
when Fathima will unloop her circled hair at the centre
piercing the very immanent irrational cut
that no creation can fathom only the loving creator Allah
will turn odd to even in between the here and hereafter
then the ocean stuck in deep salt shall turn to enduring potion!
The As-Sirat shall turn to be the bridge to paradise
the body shall revive with the enduring soul forever
and with ah Fathima couple shall enter paradise In Shaa Allah
with the rhapsody 'all praise is for Allah' Alhamdulillah!

Our planet Earth has a moon.

Yes, a moon. That thing everyone uses for something romantic.

But here's one thing I've heard

"You gotta find your own moon. Someone you could look at and feel something different. Someone who'd be with you the whole night and never want to leave your side."

Admit it. We all want that.
I knew I'd need that in the future.

What I didn't expect was I'd find one. (Or at least I thought ((obviously or else I wouldn't be writing this poem hhhh)))

Let me tell you something romantic!

Sometimes You may feel like you've found your "moon".
You start to feel like that person was something special to you
You even think you're as special to them too
You start to see that moon in your orbit wherever you go

But it pays to observe
It pays to get your own telescope and look at the sky
And realize you weren't the planet. You were the moon.
You were the one orbiting.
Orbiting what has become the world to you.
You were the one trying to give off something special .

Finally
You realize you weren't orbiting Earth
You were orbiting the wrong planet.
You were orbiting a planet that had 3 other moons.

No, you don't find your own "moon". You find your own Earth.

Hemishperes but fleeting moment repeat in time com around once again orbiting longevity in space, a force brings them around, not so noticeable to say the force that sticks you to this island ground. gravity got you down. Thump! a foul thump as your heart hits the dirt FACE OF THE EARTH! you wont be needing this anymore hint hint wink wink know what i mean mean. its such a terrible scene seen it coming this time like a train off the line barrelin faster an faster toward me. frozen stiff cant move my soul cought in a picture put in a hole. what a heavy weight to lift, this unbearable lightness of being, beloved, could you, could you be loved. i guess the darkness must amount to light, tonight tonight forever after tonight. set sail take flight orbit the night for day is just a turn away. orbiting ing ing ing ing we are orbiting round an round this not so merry go round about, about to crash, hemisphere smash an bash in this orbital path! scatterd emotions everywhere. we are stardust we are golden we are but one whole, 2 hemispheres molded. super nova unfathomable spark of flash, gravity crash, into me, jus crash into me! fire burns the candle, candle feeds the flame. a place where the flame doth never flicker this fire grows forever thicker not to be snuffed out by any gossiping bicker. yet only the black abyssal hole that grows forever nearer, can rip apart the fiber our souls have sewn together. only to begin a new, alas! orbiting this astral path.

In a quasimodo feat of not only myself but my inner sanctums. I’m in a shelter. A secluded shelter far from mankind. The bells rich **** spreads across a cold Philidelphia. I hide from the tourniquets of our kingdom. Hordes of documented secrets filibustering the excutivies of a blood famished nation. Where could a turning point conspire? Not here. Not there. No where vast of what only we know. How many times have you performed German heischen styles upon what has happened? Dialect informative, all lauguages and ethinicities could tell you. Corruption. Progestational hormones of all man and woman get the gist of secrecy, but why inquire it onworth still. Atomic bombs whiping out ten times the population of our fragile pathetic planet.

An ice rendered telescope at zero gravity with the script filled micro chips of new findings amongst our universe. This was an immediate spawn of hope towards who we are. At least for the sake of another life form, they would configure an easier derogatory and denigrating outlook of a human lifestyle. Maybe they could relate, maybe they would have emmerged in trade as our ancestors of the past 1,000 years and before had. With us, it would have been magnificent for the future to come. This era though, the only significance we know collides with a destruction of a super-catastrophic function that has been reformed thus grouwan. Grouwan, the origin of grow, growing or to increase in size, building up just as the magmata composes its liquid matter within the Earth’s crust into lava. Igneous rocks now form. Reaching the Alps. Frozen, a complete opposite of what they were once spawned from.

Still intact, an ice rendered telescope photographing galaxies not seen by a naked eye. They called it, “The Orbiting Gaurdian”, while we remained demonic and caught in ignorant reality conflicts. In small groups spread across the lands, combined as one, we are still undeniably small. I built this shelter with my own two hands knowing what would come, I wanted to overcome. Philidelpia was still so cold, very odd, quite eerie for a patriot New England city. Rot, Weib, und Blau. Rodt, Hvitt, og blatt. Shiro aka to ao. From Germany, to Norway, to the super advanced technologic Japan, they all recognize red, white, and blue. Maybe we are a leading nation, but who honestly gives a ****. All nation’s combined, worlds away, a lone planet of democracy. Darkness. The abcense of light above me, directly. No two-dimensional representation of an outline of any body form. No cutout or configurational drawing with a sun glimmering backrounded setting. We are inkligs with no hint of suggestion in the sea of blackness above. If you could have gone so far back in time though, you would have found a blackned quality on the most transparent and pellucid of days.

I race through my brain waves wondering if this concealment was completely ignorant. Was it full of extreme folly? Asininity? Ineptitude? I pondered the synonyms of stupidity. I was ravished to wonder if my last thoughts would be a mind race of the lacking self-esteem I hold. Sudden deaf struck. I no longer heard shrills of humanity above. I was deprived of my sense of hearing. Intimidated to look upward, I could not manage being deprived of sight as well.

What were those dangling seconds that I could not hear?

Were they little fragments of time that I could not notice near?

They stabbed at the back of my skull to leave this sheltered hole.

I find humor in how my poetry is merely past time entries that mean nothing. They once had been published, but now at the least, they did not mean a thing. I wish them to burn long and hard, fighting. Hardback covers and dusty library shelves vanishing in this dark mess of a world.

Pain, sharp municiple pain casted into my skin. Into my lungs, my contaminated, sickened lungs that had ciggarettes by the thousands over the years. I had started as a child. A stubborn twelve year old child wanting to experience any drug my hands could get a hold of. I did too, I don’t regret it, and I dont feel remorse from my actions and those many high nights when I could not walk or stand. I felt weary, weak, helpless and finished. My eyes, my mind, my pulse, my body, my so called soul, asleep or dead?

Her lips constant at the utterance
Of sweet and serene words filled
With adoration, praising him,
He who made endless hearts
do cartwheels and somersaults
Of multiple, millions nigh and far
their hearts loving
As long as he’s living

Nonetheless, changing courses
Of history was what she excelled
One glance, one encounter turned

Her lips managing
to do none but stutter
To his shielded heart
no one managed to flutter

His deer like eyes observing
With admiration, eyes sparkling
every look, crook, nook
Of her smile that shook
The worlds and heavens
Devout in his heart and mind

His earth's plates shifting
His massive planets orbiting
He witnessed it all in one being

The gravity of the universe on her
Shoulders heavy from responsibility
The heavens challenging her capability
Her hardships conveyed as she blinked
their dilated orbs communicating
language barriers unstoppable
To what her eyes held

He understood his needs
To care, to cherish, to love,
Feeling his heart pumping blood
Faster, quicker than light
Travelling the dark domains
Undiscovered, just like her soul
That he felt the need to explore
As his heart finally fluttered

This is a tale of two lovers torn apart by individuality.


Once upon a time the universe gave birth to a new galaxy, a unique galaxy: one with life, beauty, pain, and hope. But most importantly this galaxy contained a concept that extended beyond space and time, a universal concept; this galaxy contained an idea called love. It began as stars clustered together to illuminate the darkness that once encompassed it. They aligned to create things that represented bigger pictures than their individual selves called constellations. The stars enjoyed the beautiful formations they could create from the essence of their deep feelings of love. But as this galaxy formed, a solar system emerged in which a powerful, bright star fell in love with a rocky, moody satellite. These celestial bodies had nothing in common. The sun wanted to always shine brighter, and shine to help light the way for the rest of the galaxy, but the moon became so infatuated with the sun he just wanted to absorb her light. The moon still wanted to understand what he truly was meant for. They learned many things about themselves by growing together, but still desired to find out their true individual justification to their existence. This love burned so brightly and passionately that it attracted other celestial objects, like planets to join and admire its ethereal affection. These planets soon aligned to form their own bond creating the solar system. One planet in particular emerged from the depths of the galaxy to help the sun and moon find their true purpose that stemmed from this tender intimacy. So earth placed herself in the center of the sun and moon to shape them into their full potential. This gravely upset the sun and moon, they wanted nothing more than to be together, orbiting each other forever. But they knew this new arrangement would allow them to truly understand their placement in this galaxy. As the earth orbited the sun, who desired to provide light for life, the moon chased the sun with every day the sun created for the earth. The separation from the sun allowed the moon to realize that he needed the sun to provide her light to him so he can shine onto others as well. For there is no greater purpose than to bring life to others. The moon soon realized he is nothing without the love of his beloved sun. As time progressed without the moon, the sun began to wear out because she was giving so much to everyone else that she could not hold herself together. She needed someone to love her just as much. She missed the moon more than she could bear. She had wanted to give the galaxy as much love as the moon once gave her, but realized she needed him to make her feel whole. The two lovers finally understood their place in this galaxy, to show the universe that once cannot find their true purpose without loving, and being loved in return. The earth was proud of this accomplishment, but since they wanted to fulfill their purpose they had to stay in place, so there she stayed only allowing the lovers to catch a glimpse of each other through their reflections onto her. Once every 365 earth days, the moon and sun would meet again and cross each other’s path to remind the galaxy of what once the love that rarely matched.



-ID

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i had dreams of meeting outer space
running laps around the rings
alien murmurs like whispered sweet nothings
snorting cosmic dust
leads to
eyes that grow like eclipses
starlight sticking to my skin
initials carved in moon rocks
hurled through the stars like a telegraph service
it wasn't until i met you
that i felt the gravitational pull
it was you holding me to the earth
i didn't mind
suddenly space felt empty
it was small and you were vast
i pulled my head out of the clouds
and laid it on your chest
your eyes shone with the glitter of the cosmos
putting the twinkling stars to shame
black holes were filled
in me and in the universe
i stopped yearning for the undisturbed quiet
the minute i heard your heartbeat
through thin fabric and skin
and as cold as it was above the atmosphere
it was no comparison to the cold felt
when your body was away from mine
similar to how the moon would feel
should the sun ever cease to shine on it
the chill of unprepared absence
you became the center point
a bouquet of warmth and light
and life on earth
without you
was no longer possible


                                                      ­        *smndi

Spacing out, allowing my mind to wander far, far off,
Into the distance, into a dream out of reach, my personal heaven,
A distorted world where meaning has no meaning and time stands still, space is instable and the melancholy of lonesomeness prevails,
Clouds, everlasting, ever orbiting floating islands and upside down waterfalls, yet I cannot share this pleasure with anyone, I'm alone,
If I were to believe I could fly, I would be free.
Not bound by physics dragging me down, not bound by gravity,
I keep this place dear to me, for it is a world made for escape,
Only if I could lose myself in the fragnance of this dimension,
My poor body calls my soul back to where it thinks it belongs,
The dream of pleasure, with a carefree attitude is burning away,
Reality is cruel and dark, with no comfort a place with no heart,
But certainly I can hope with all my might even though weak,
That this place I am carried to when my mind is giving away my soul,
Will take me in forever one day, so I won't have to wake up.
After all, I don't have to die in a dream..

~ Umi

close your eyes…
let your light lids become heavy
like falling asleep in a bed of soft dreams.
quiet your mind with a deep inhale....
breathe with me, and hold for a simple moment
cleanse your mind with a firm exhale.
Focus purely on your breath. Breathe with me. (take three sets of deep breaths)
imagine no thoughts that bother you
ignore the noise that follows your foot steps,
the little buzzes of every day, like fruit flies orbiting succulent peaches
let the noise fly away like those flies, far away
Let go of those days where you find yourself worried…
there is nothing to hold onto that worries you.
you are a strong, magnificent, worry free energy,
clean and sparkling.
Relax,
Envision your mind as a porcelain sink,
and the drain in the center pulls all the noise away,
until there is nothingness, emptiness.
let the darkness behind your eyelids engulf you...
it is warm, it is inviting, it is loving
in this darkness...
there is light.
See and feel this ball of radiant light ripping through the black
that tickles your skin like pins and needles
the most beautiful light you’ve ever seen...
be humble...
this is your love
manifested into an image
that presents itself to you
to show you all the love that your heart holds
it beats into your blood,
your veins,
your energy,
every inch of your physical,
your mental,
your soul...
feel that smooooth, delicate love swim through every morsel of your being,
it gives us light... it gives us life.
...
Create an intention… what do you want most?
Or perhaps, what do you want to give?
What do you… as nobody else but yourself…
want to embody? (take a few moments to gather and intention)
take a deep inhale... (inhale)
upon exhaling, release this intention into the universe...
everything you give will come back.
Let this intention become an extension of yourself
this is you, and you are this.
Now this part of you, the gentle intention, is part of the universe.
and you…
are part of the universe.
thank the cosmos for caring about your mind, body, and spirit, and giving you
this galactic love as you release yours,
and the cycle continues on and on...
feel the warmth of love kiss you tenderly,
let it swallow you and hold you tightly, like a cosmic mother.

you’re an infant again... in the arms of something divine,
feeling pure bliss, like happiness is the only emotion that exists.
happiness becomes organic, it is the ultimate source of life...
happiness becomes the light, and combines itself with love,
making the most beautiful offspring of purity and salvation.

Inhale....
Exhale....

you are new, you are love
let it run like a tranquil river from every one of your pours
hear the liquid love follow the current of your mind’s creek..

hold your intention in your heart, and let it radiate
let yourself be light
let yourself be love.

inhale...
exhale...


© 2016 D.M.V

Compartmentalized;

..An elevated view  of you
shows booth, after booth,
after booth, after booth,
after booth, after booth,
after booth, after booth,
after booth, after booth,
after booth, after booth,
after booth, after booth,

.. after booth, after booth
   Each one  partitioned  with

an impenetrable  curtain
hanging off of  a bone-frame
stainless steel  pipe structure,
Built high enough  for the
different parts  of you
to sense, but not   feel..

what part of you
is in the other booth.

   Problem is,

You want and expect
me to orbit around it all
as if each isolated part
   is,  in itself..
actually the whole you..
when I know it is  only
a  tremendously-lonely
    part of the whole.
And you take love  to be
some form of blindness
  on my part

--to the elephant in the room,
And I tell you I love you..
And I tell you,  

               "No.. I won't do it"

--And your shame  kicks in
causing you to  feel
     I'm too harsh..

        or being judgemental.

Yet all along, you are knowing--
That just a few moments  with me..
and the walls come tumbling down.
   .          .          .          .         .          .          

When the partitions  drop
(that is your terror)
(that is your horror)
You will not annihilate
into a million fragments  
   of nothingness

The you(s)..  of you
will meet one another
for the very first time
since you were first  dismembered
(fragmented, so very long ago.)
You will not  disintegrate, love..

You will  Re- integrate.

Love does that.  It does.
But you already know that.
Yet still you hide (.. from me.)


You are addicted  to the 'comfort'
the partitions's isolation brings.
Your relationship is not with
the sum of the parts  as a whole..
but with the internal  "construct"  within you--
  the chasm..  the gap..  

--the empty space between those parts;
as it uninstalls one part of the intricate you
and re-installs the next

And you have no idea   how to
   orchestrate
the many different parts  of you
   like a conductor would do
   with his orchestra..   therefore,

You can only be in relationship
with one part of yourself at a time--
..Each partitioned  'self'
has an e-mail address
Each one  has
a separate account  of its own..
Each one,  within itself..   convinced
that it carries within itself
its own, separate genetic imprint

Each one,  you can  milk  
within its incompleteness
     as if it in itself,   is complete--
    .. Flaunting it, flaunting it;  
    as though it is the complete you
  while all other necessary  parts of the whole
  remain dangerously dormant..
   --being Unholy-ghosted  by

    whatever currently-visible part of you
    now  has control of the ship.


--And throughout the years
I am expected to weather the storm
and gather  pieces,  from pieces..
and then magically (oh.. I can..)
piece them all together as I speak to you
without you having to even  feel
the tension (absurdity)  of the
mis-placed  accountability
   (and responsibility)
    to enter into love
    as a Whole (the sum of many parts)

And so here I am..  orbiting    
    orbiting  orbiting--
around your ever-changing  mood swings;
        the   "Paul-is-good,"  one day
        and  "Paul-is-bad,"  the next,
       (those ever-changing perspectives,
       gaslighting.. gaslighting.. gaslighting)
   --in order that you might  remain   'the same'
   based on whatever current-visible  part of you
   is currently at the helm..

       The current pilot of the ship
       wholly unaware of the leadership styles,
       opinions and views of that  of the last.  
Harsh sounding.. I know..
(but you know..)

And so, here's the rub--

You are feeling your days
to be numbered..
You have been around me
too long, love.
(that is your fault)   You knew.

https://hellopoetry.com/poem/4159831/tourniquet-smiles-yeah-that/

I wrote that  such a long time ago


We are getting closer to Home, love.
I wrote this strange little ditty
before I wrote that other one..

https://hellopoetry.com/poem/3383529/fragments/

What you have feared  most
has now given way
to the sound of inevitability

   (You should have ran
             ..but you didn't.)


..The sound of inevitability
 isn't really a sound at all..

..It is the  sound of you  still
  standing there.❤

Look into my waning eyes and see that I can't contain the moons that
Orbit my pupils

The stains on my hands are rubbing off onto my bed sheets at night leaving
Smears that resemble blood

Your feet look so lost within the confines of the path you're walking
And maybe the path you're walking isn't easy

I wish you could see the heavens that opened up when you spoke of
Dreams and hopes that would never last

The great oceans of unobtainable feelings are rumbling over their beaches
The tides are pulling me back into their loving embrace

So reach out with your arms stretched wide and grasp my hands in yours
Because the breath on which I survive has escaped my lips

The gentle swells of impenetrable gloom has swallowed me whole
And taken my eyes with it

The moons aren't orbiting anymore

They are simply falling

I am orbiting Saturn
Bathing in an unholy calm
Digesting the universal justice
Finding peace in my untimely demise
I drift in the ocean of void
A worm hole ******* the time out of my soul
The black lotus of the world unfolds
Everything happening before hasn't happened before
Relatively nothing means anything anymore

"I LOVE LOVE!" She shouted, speaking to herself in third person.
It was then that she seemed to float away
A balloon on Macy's Day.

It seemed I was the only one orbiting earth,
watching those performances of daily life applauding
for a well-flipped omelet a superbly
fitted glove a full tank of gas at $4.00.
I couldn't believe my luck

Terrestrially, there were husks sipping coffee
and rasping and rustling at each other
desiccated.
Privately, she was buying real estate on the moon
I LOVE LOVE! she shouted
Dancing like an egg on a spray of water
a declassified military satellite who through some dumb luck
had escaped the pull of gravity and won
Marveling at the moon rock
on her finger, even a stubbed toe just seemed
like the ideal opportunity for extorting kisses.
And it glinted in the light.
Everything was fine.

Down on earth it seemed all the wine drinkers
were toasting to us cheering as we terra formed
the moon. *We couldn't believe our luck
as we rolled back our stone.

I imagine you cradled inside
the wing of your rocket ship, vacuum
sealed, sheltered from the noise of solar wind.
Remembering our goodbye at the launch-pad
Creases the aging skin around your eyes.

Tears, weightless and buoyant,
Collide with the sputtering, decrepit
valves and cogs
tracking your orbit
through Saturn’s dust.

You bottle them in mason jars, capture each one on fading
fingertips like paper white snowflakes,
Sealing them inside with aluminum twist caps.
You fill each one and let them clutter the windows
like drunken periscopes.

If I could shine a flashlight through these memory
telescopes, black and white 1920s movies would reel
cracked turtle shells on the highway,
Four rabbits, their intestines spoiling on mowed grass,
Synonyms for “stupid” piercing into heart with arrowhead.

    You curl tighter into the spacecraft,
    Breathing uncontrollably, painfully.
    Canines cut into tongue to suppress sobs.
    Folding over naval, knees to forehead,
             The gravity of surrounding, misplaced moons
             pulls you to collision with an asteroid.

You rode an airplane horse
Like Joan of Arc and her hope
With Princess Julia and Prince Justin,
Flew away from our bleak archipelago,
Across this continent of the smooth-skinned
To meet the King, your love,
For a quest to raise again our royal family,
And brought rain to Dubai.
You have rained on Dubai;
Brought the ocean to their deserts,
Watered their artificial plants,
Glistened their rough highways,
Bathed the Arabs,
Moisturized their dry skin,
And taught them to dance in the puddles.
You have rained on Dubai,
And took with you my Philippine sun.
Now I sit here in my desk;
A withered bud in the Land of the Orient Pearl,
Staring at this snow globe you left
With glitter orbiting the Burj Al Arab,
Watching over you from this crystal ball,
Waiting for you to leave the Gulf States,
And bring the rain back here.

Your sun stroked fingers
smooth my dusted galaxies
spoiling orbiting blues
with swipes of stardust.

You kiss meteors, murmur
how you savored snippets
of Jupiter's moons in the
spaces of a poetic eclipse.

Adorning Saturn's rings
in your nebulous tombs,
rekindling your smile with
flames of lovers past.

The memory is still buried
within my core, a pounding
resonance that evokes the bloom
of summers kiss on Earth.

A welcome release for the
nights wandering stars.

she whispers poetic metaphors
comprised of beautiful words
into thirsty ears
and watches as hungry eyes
become enveloped with stars
as they imagine the beauty
of her love

she tells them
¨he is the earth
and i am his moon
orbiting around him¨
orbiting for him

but
you see
an orbital´s path
is not paved by love
for she often asks herself
if she was really in love at all
or was it simply
his proximity
which so forcefully
pulled her in

for closeness
is what tore the moon
from her own established path
amongst the stars
when she encountered
the inescapable gravity
of another celestial body

the moon
diminutive and frail
in comparison
had no choice
but to succumb to the earth´s captivation
and redirect her path
to assume a new orbit
around a new focus

instead of progressing forward
she now knows nothing
but the same hideous loop
and like a scratched record
it repeats itself
over
         and over
                           and over
                                            and over
again

and every taste of freedom
simply brings her careening even quicker
around the next corner
until she becomes
all too familiar
with the same series of events

so she convinces herself
she's fallen in love
then that she's fallen
back out of it again
except
she hasn't really fallen anywhere
her mind simply adapts
a new narration
for the same spiral storyline

she never really loved him
for while they were close
momentum prevented their hearts
from ever truly touching
(for if the moon and the earth
drifted too close
they would collide)
and she will never know
now that she has become entranced
by a new planetary orbit

and as she tells the story
of how the moon
fell for the earth
the paradox of orbitals
was the perfect disguise
for her sinister love


x.

given the study of benzene, you get the inner electron dynamic, which later expanded into a non-conformity with electron orbits of atoms, benzene gave us the clue as to how electrons behaved, nothing on the atomic scale would ever be given planetary scales of orbiting a nucleus, benzene encapsulating a ring of electrons, gave way to an atomic cloud of electrons, meaning that beside the Higg's Boson, what's more important is not finding the mass-universal, but gravity on an atomic scale, not the sort of Newtonian gravity of Voltaire's anecdote-metaphor... unlike philosophers who with a framework of methodology use a constricted vocabulary, i'm bashing a single word... metaphor... which evolved into benzene, and subsequently into benzene attachments, in the respective ortho- para- and meta- positioning... hence metaphor revised with unfashionable variations of orthophor and paraphor... i don't have the time and space (patience) to invent meanings for these yet-to-exist words, but they're there... i want to understand gravity on an atomic scale, another form of gravity must exist here, not the gravity of apples, trees and autumn harvests for cider... i mean quantum gravity, it must... and this wouldn't be a universal gravity as that of apples falling from trees at g = 9.80665 m/s2, i'm guessing it would have to be cubic, i.e. metres per cubic second... also known as an existential stasis - on the atomic level, where the eyes are futile another form of gravity has to exist, a lot of will have to do with the relativity dip / parabola where time and space create space-time - but as the study of benzene showed in comparison with the atom: electrons do not have orbits, they're like clouds of people and morality, the most famous trick of them all: now you see me... now you don't... the study of benzene taught us that electrons behave in a cloudy formation and not in a Simpsons' logo of a nuclear factory... if i had the money and the equipment i'd be looking for atomic gravity / glue, given the already stated gravity of bigger things... fair enough to Higgs for proposing a constant of mass universal in all things... i want to differentiate the gravity of large things from the gravity of small things... given the proton + essence and the electron - essence, there's still the neutron ÷: the dividing / non-differential equator of debate, where both sparring partners of those favouring + and those favouring - are given dot-revisions as starting platforms, because, after all, magnets do not exist on an atomic scale, and saying that protons are north and electrons are south will not explain very much... in neutral territory we will debate the point of the second form of gravity, without the idea of magnets and the over-simplification of plus and minus on the atomic scale behaving like due opposites; another explanation of gravity must exist on the atomic level, given the ridiculous notion of Copernican north and Copernican south or east or west, i.e. on the atomic scale we're talking spiders in a spider-web and flies caught in it; the notion of Copernican north is funny given the preservation of nautical language.*

for every rational secular noun,
there's an irrational religious metaphor:
a compound noun-verb sort of speak,
a noun that does irrational things
with our minds when the tongue is applied,
(metaphors are complex grammatical
vectors, nouns are simple grammatical
vectors, so to avoid confusion):
for every rational secular noun,
there's an irrational religious metaphor.

our bread and butter...
     the web of stars,
     the scatter of moons
     and orbiting planets.
the entire universe
harvested and crammed
into the metre,
of a poetic verse.

our bread and butter...
     harnessing the regal rays of the sun.
     inflating the fluff of quiet clouds.
     drinking up the winds of the weather.
     revering the magic in the flight of birds.
we fill our cups to the brim...
with fantastical dreams
and let spill
over parchment
the cornucopia of idealised words.

our bread and butter...
the incessant peeling and picking
on healing wounds.
of which we have learnt to savour...
     let bleed
     the willing blood...
     feed the seeds
     with impending flood.
nurture to fruition
thoughts stunted in discretion.
bring to light
thoughts hidden in the nether.

our bread and butter...
we dip...
the nibs,
of our word worn feathers.
let them sink,
shallow beneath the surface
to the sanctity of a familiar place.
     *casting our trials,
     and tribulations...
     pent up emotions,
     and what we think
     unto paper
     with the burn of
     everlasting ink.

You transformed my freckled neck

Into a strawberry field

Last night
Transplanting puckered lips
Into planting pink rosy kisses
Across my skin
And down my chest
Like
Cherry blossom petals that

We picked

Because we  
Just don't believe that they could be
Anything more
That how they feel right now

Its too inconceivable for us
Its too contrived   


I mean
Its like
Trying to grow candy apple love
In greenhouses
Or just houses 

Painted green
With synthetic sunbeams
And pesticide ridden wishing seeds
Planted with high doses of expectations
And fertilized by things like
Movie Scripted
Kissing in the rain

And all the other high fructose corn-syrup cliches
That only let you come down
When your brain washed loving
Is washed from lusting
Trusting only the sunlight
Rising in the morning
On a clear day
Because thats when you can see
Whats real and fake

But it doesn't matter

Because we just don't believe in things like that
Its to synthetic
For starry eyes filled with falling satellites
When its still too cold for sunshine


So we
Just believe in things like
Twisting our tongues 
for the fun
Of seeing
How quickly we come undone
When we touch

And breathing

Out then in and in again
Breathing uneven breathes
Into each others mouths
To feel what its like
To come to life
Then let it go again

And we always
Always
Color outside
The rib cage lines

(and heres why)

Because ribs
Keep people out of our hearts

And cages
Keep us out of their

And lines
*******

Lines are for strictly straight people
Who can only see one side to everything
And everyone
Knows
Rules were meant to be broken
And lines were meant to be crossed

Cross eyed
Crooked teeth

That can never be bent back straight
Or scraped pearly clean of
Imperfection
Because they are already
In perfection
Everyone is just too blinded
From staring into the sun
To see it right now

But tonight
Tonight
We are two crooked lines
In a foreign vineyards of twisted grape vines

Fermenting into a wine sweeter than our lips
And we fit
Together
Like two broken puzzle pieces
That wont ever complete each other
And you know what

That's ok

You are not my missing piece
And I am not yours
Because we are not
Puzzles
We are people
And puzzles are just broken paintings
To be put back together
And we are not broken
There’s no completion left

To who we are
We are infinite
Never ending in our potential
Never lacking in what's essential
All we are doing is adding colors
To each other

And tonight
You color me inside out

Crossing every line on my skin
With you paint brush lips
Like strawberry red rows of
Red wine
Dipped lips
Planting painted
Red lipstick kisses
In each others mouths
The way
Sweet-bay Magnolia petals
Are pictured in puddles
When they look down
Seeing their own refection
And letting themselves fall
Getting bruised by the gravel
We are each both petals and pavement
When we fall into each other
Tonight
And I remember one night
A while ago
We found an old telescope
Made out of plastic
With this incredibly inaccurate scope
That focused in sudden little jults
And it took us forever to find the moon
But when we did
And zoomed in
With one eye squinted
You
Looked up
To the night sky
And I
Have never seen anything like

The way the moon filled your eyes with stars
After you peered into each others faces


All the way across the atmospheric dimension
Sendings whispered apprehensions  

Of a pretentious existences into each others eyes
Every line had a wink at the end
And every wink had
A sly smile in between the chimney and the roof

So heres a little truth

Sometimes I wish that we
Could telescope each others sunsets
And find our own sunrises in each others eyes
Behind every blink
Orbiting

Fixed fastly to this axis
Through outer space time lapsing
Across boarder lines
Even though 
I know
We already beam every time we see each other
Like spring sunshine on icicles dripping drops down to
Oil spilled rainbows

We bowed our selves

From the glowing belly
Of our laughter induced paintings
Coloring waves of light
Overlapping though space

Traveling
Faster than the speed of sound
In our own directions
But our travels are soundly set
To inter-exist in this second
And I dont want to let go yet

But I will
Because we cant believe in things like this
It too much risk  to trust the
Daffodils blooming in the brisk
Frosty March mornings
Between bits of icy earth

So we pick them
And put them in little jars with stones
In our kitchen
And smile every time we walk by
I dont even really know why actually
I guess

They are just so pretty
And they smell nice too

Right next to the stems of
The white cherry blossoms
Which bend across our wooden window sill
Next to our sudsy little sink
And we know
That they wont grow anymore
After this
That this is their only glimmer
Of existence
So we hold them close
But time alway slip through our finger tips
Letting go
Of what we cant hold on to
Pulled farther apart
And I havent seen you 
In a while

The other night

I tried to telescope your eyes
Across boarded boarder lines
But I couldn't find you in the skies
And the moon only winked in my direction
Leaving me

To plant wishing seeds

In the ashes of 

Every wished on fallen satellite
I could find
Grown
In green houses

When its still to cold for sunshine
On a clear day
I still wish
That maybe
After
You’ve cleared away all the dead daffodils
From our dusty windowsill
And planted a orchard of candy apples
In the ribs of your new lover

That it will still make you smile
Every time you see
Sweet-bay magnolia petals bruised by gravel
And it reminds you of me


                                    The End.

the loving way
   you take me in

and send me out
into an orbit
lit by a million suns
moving in spiraling commotion
toward their brilliant center

the way
   you loving
take me in

Thanks people for liking a poetic Story for a change. Here is the follow-up.

In Part One we visited the universe one hundred and ten trillion years after the Big Bang. Our hero Omega and his people escaped the last known dying red sun by becoming living spirits. Now they must embark on a remarkable journey... (By popular request)!

Omega and his associates flew faster than light. Up ahead there appeared a white pin-*****.

“A star!” exclaimed Omega.

“Not a star,” corrected Father, “It’s another universe!”

That tiny white gem grew into a globe, until it filled most of the “sky”.

Father: “Omega, you have a choice now. Most of our people are going on to that universe. To a new life. But some of us are going further first. We are going to take full advantage of this spirit form, and travel out as far as we can. We are going to try to discover the truth about Existence.”

Omega: “But how will you find your way back, Dad?”

Father: “We have established an unbreakable link with our people. When we have completed our quest we will follow that thread and return home. Are you up for it?”

Omega: “Of course. You only get a chance like this the once.”

Father: “Good. Let’s go.”

All the goodbyes were made and the two parties went their separate ways. For Omega, his odyssey began.

This time, they seemed to fly away even faster! Another “star” appeared. Then another, and another, until the whole “sky” was filled with a myriad of them.

Father: “Yes, son, you guessed: these are not stars but universes. We are somewhere in the middle of a Multiverse. And we are heading out!”

At some point Omega became aware that there was a “boundary” to the multiverse. That the multiverse was some vast globe of universes! Soon they were leaving that globe. Before long they were looking back at that circle his father called “The Multiverse”.

Then Omega became aware of another globe in the distance. As they moved away, this second globe looked much larger than the first. Like a sun and earth. But then other small spheres appeared: until there were eight of them orbiting that “sun”. Omega’s multiverse was the third of those eight from the “star”.

Father: “It’s an Oxygen atom, son!”

Omega: “What?”

Father: “That sun thing is the nucleus and its, er, planets are electrons. Two in the inner shell and six in the outer. Classic Oxygen.”

Omega: “Wow!”

They kept going. Soon they encountered more oxygen atoms as they sped away from their own “atom”. They also encountered countless Hydrogen “atoms”.

Father: “Water! We are in water! Lots of impurities though.”

Their pace seemed to multiply. Nevertheless it took ages. Eventually, however, they left what turned out to be a stream of water. Falling to some unknown ground. Slowly but surely, though, a “figure” materialised above them.

The realisation hit them all at once. Frozen in “time” before them was, a little lad having a *** behind some bushes! And both their old and "new" universes were somewhere within that stream of *****.

Father: “I think it’s time for us to return home, son.”

Paul Butters

my mind is a planetarium
where each memory is a meteorite
and every apology burns like a dying star.

enclosed in the vast celestial stretch of my skull,
planets tend to vanish without the courtesy of a goodbye,
but i'm just happy to have housed them for a little while.

my projector is faulty and sometimes,
the images i try to convey become obscured
("asteroids may be larger than they appear").

i can't help but speak in broken constellations,
and hope that you somehow understand
that i have nothing but the best intentions.

not to mention, i've seen a lot of visitors, though
none have ever stayed for long, after they've surveyed
that i'm nothing more than a bunch of chaotic galaxies.

i rubbed the collection of stardust and debris from my eyes
and to my surprise, found that you hadn't gone anywhere.
instead, you were there, floating through my solar systems.

you've got me orbiting around your finger
like the rings around the sixth planet from the sun.
i come undone a little more with every word you breathe.

my bones are made of moon rock, aching like cold craters,
waiting patiently for the radiant warmth of the sun,
or your breath, or your touch, whichever is closest.  

the most stellar display of stars i have ever seen
are not in the belt of orion, nor anywhere within the milky way -
instead they are lightyears beyond, resting comfortably behind your lips.

- m.f.

of course i ******* every night,
otherwise i'd be wondering
about the next Laika in space
with some next soviet conspiracy
Sputnik hovering while i chance
abbreviate a change on hairstyling
thinking: jeez, this is a little bit too
afro frizzy for a brainstorm,
maybe i better opt for Jamaican dreads?
economics of shampoo usage,
suddenly a large bank account.
i do get the idea behind treating nouns
like albinos... bleach the *******
hang them to dry in Polaroids...
while commercial flights fly at a certain
height, and the rich buggers fly high enough
to jet-stream in the cirrus uncinus bracket...
and they lie to children,
they're talking about strange satellites...
i can't see satellites, not without Galileo's
excommunication apparatus,
satellites, as far as i am concerned
orbit the earth in a non-visible spectrum
of the vacuum... hence their orbiting outside
of the visible spectrum atmosphere of
the earth, i would not be able to see
a satellite for the love of Michaelangelo.

My mind keeps pictures of you up on its walls
                            again
                         ­         and again
I find my thoughts drifting down that river of memory
orbiting around you, like forces of gravity drawn
to the idea of us (if there even is an us)

If I could then I’d lock you outside my brain, leave you out there to rot
in the abyss, where your words couldn't penetrate me
and your lips that work like anesthesia forbidden to numb me again

I won't do you the injustice of romanticizing your imperfections
You're no nebular, you're a black hole, a gaping flaw in creation
Your eyes that held millenniums of history, now hold me no future

You made me forget what it feels to have stability
To not walk out of a room and forget why I left
You make me want to shred the skin you touched
Like a reptile, to become reborn, purified from my past.

There never were any butterflies in your stomach, only parasites
but you fed them to me readily like a disease

So no, I won’t dedicate you another love poem
                 no I want (deserve) better
This isn't what love should be
I’ll write you a poem where the words convulse on the page
and you’ll forget to read it (you always do)