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She  was disprivilged
Left so dejected
Rejected from from her Earthly paradise

The rose fell off
but the brier whereon it grew remains
 Feb 2 Crow
nivek
cocooned
 Feb 2 Crow
nivek
cocooned in self
a black cloud

full of thunder
spitting blue lightening
 Feb 2 Crow
nivek
chained in darkness
alone with terror

the balm of love
in spoken words

the spirit of love
through all centuries
 Feb 2 Crow
nivek
time gallops faster and faster
unstoppable energy

a wave of eternity
on a breath of love.
 Feb 2 Crow
Donall Dempsey
SCHRODINGER'S DOG

Unlike
Schrödinger's cat

Schrödinger's dog

was always
there

under his feet

hungry for
...his Master's voice...a pat...the sound of his step...

The cat
(like anybody's cat)

couldn't give
a toss

(but that was neither
here nor there) .

It's hard to tell

if it's alive or if
it ain't.

It's one
lazzzzzzy cat.

He's never there
(when you want him to be)

and always there
(when you don't want him to be.)

Quark the cat
was just one big paradox.

The dog
was old and faithful

always
in the box

asleep or gnawing
a bone in thought.

The cat couldn't care
less

a source
of constant

anxiety

about its
whereabouts

and the state
of its health.

Being
neither

here nor
there

or somewhere
else entirely

as if it lived
in a parallel universe.

Lived in a world
of its own.

Thus the theory of
Schrödinger's Cat

proved
(beyond doubt)

that although
cats are nice an' all dat

dogs
are a scientist's

best friend.

*

In 1935, Schrödinger published an essay describing the conceptual problems in quantum mechanics. A brief paragraph in this essay described the cat paradox:

One can even set up quite ridiculous cases. A cat is penned up in a steel chamber, along with the following diabolical device (which must be secured against direct interference by the cat) : in a Geiger counter there is a tiny bit of radioactive substance, so small that perhaps in the course of one hour one of the atoms decays, but also, with equal probability, perhaps none; if it happens, the counter tube discharges and through a relay releases a hammer which shatters a small flask of hydrocyanic acid. If one has left this entire system to itself for an hour, one would say that the cat still lives if meanwhile no atom has decayed. The first atomic decay would have poisoned it. The Psi function for the entire system would express this by having in it the living and the dead cat (pardon the expression) mixed or smeared out in equal parts.[

*

There was a leak in my cistern in the brain stem. I didn't like to play dice with my universe so I called a quantum mechanic in. I asked him if it was bad. He said: Well, it is or it isn't...depending on how you look at it.. It's good for me...bad for you! '

'Now, about that cat? '

'Not that old chestnut....the cat is over 70 now...just fix the cistern will ya! I had the cat poisoned...so that's that! '

'Ohhhhh! '

'Anyway...it was a hypothetical cat! '

'Ya mean it wasn't real? '

'Oh...what is real?

He seemed considerably saddened by this and left without charging for the cistern.
I hate when after all this time Animal Rights activists disguise themselves as plumbers in order to rescue the ****** cat that is neither alive or dead.

Next time it leaks...I'll call a vet.
I'm looking for salvation
by the wounded hours of night

I'm thinking of a giant to the ****** of my plight

My pen lays as idle as the silence of the slain
As I've aged I wonder if I will ever write again

The thoughts go tango to a dance that subtlely denies

The words are rudely gathered then told they've been denied

Someone dared to ask me
if I lived in
a graveyard
of shattered dreams

After a moment of silence all I could say was , "Yes ,  so it is as well it seems."

The paper islands exists far out on an inky sea

The words have stowed away on the boat and sailed far away from me
Gur
In the chill of the mist
we walk on the almost deserted way.

I have little to say
being filled with her beside me
and she breathes the wind in
as our lonely world spins.

Sometimes we touch as we walk
prompting her to look at me
with a veiled smile across her face
when the walk seems sweeter than happiness.

The date trees are brimming with juice, she says
the pots will be filled in no time, I affirm,
some farther and we will be there.

Something akin to love
brews with the nectar.
Mukutmanipur, December 27, 2024
When I was young the days seemed longer,
the weeks, months, even a year an eternity,
but then the ensuing speeding decades seemed
to melt away like winter snows. Reminding me
that life is a brief and fleeting thing not to be
taken for granted or wasted.
Definition: Reality Check
A thing that exists in fact having
previously only existed in one's mind.
Fertile earth’s seductive sorcery
Like ephemeral effulgence’s effluent effusion
Can lead you to believe that it’s not a travesty
Like life’s visceral intuitive eternal is not lost in subtle evasive confusion

Life’s virile translucence reflects this glow
Like an aorist ensemble of interludes transposition
Can lead you to believe that you’re in the know
Like omnipresence presages omniscience’s ubiquity is existential exigency’s peroration’s exposition

Corporeally preternatural's metaphysical mystique
Like a mirador bartizan tableau panorama
Can inspire us to rise above its critique
Like spatiotemporal’s telemetry incarnate is creation’s vivid intrepid cyclorama

Spectral verve’s liaison’s consortium
Like eclectic synectics' conclave’s fatidic
Can leave you lost in germane compendium
Like terminus thrall’s apriori inclination is transcendental accession’s endemic mnemonic

Monad’s transitional majestic splendor
Like residual harmonic vibration’s resilience
Can autonomously evoke and vicariously render
Like rubato’s actuator’s prospectus revealed is orchestration rendition’s intriguing brilliance

Eidetic preterit’s aesthetic amendments
Like protractive analyses’ dimensional delineations
Can lead to cogent salacious enticements
Like phantasmagoria’s fantasia fantastication’s magniloquence is sultry solace’s ostentatious ideation
I wrote this poem at the request of my best friends wife when he was dying of a brain tumor.  I like to think it helped.
This too will sink I know
Like the others before
This too will go
Behind shut door.

Once a place of rejoice
Where I poured my heart
Leaving is now the only choice
And make a new start.

My work is my blood of toil
Come at a high cost
Digging deep into the soil
What I grew is all lost.

I leave this holiness with pain
Will miss all you gave
Leaving the circling dots to reign
And send old poems to grave.
I leave with love and best wishes for all the fellow members and friends here.
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