When I enter,
the black holes of myself,
they are located,
transcribed upon the
blackboards of our
unified bodies,
the magnification of energy
transversed,
principles demonstrated
by the unconcluding
conclusion of the expansion of
creation,
the rebirthing of one universe
never ending

When I enter a woman,
the discovery sought,
the definitional needed,
the proofs equational,
the factors constant,
not the variable
truths,
the demonstrations positive,
the constants of the universe,
combinational, all within,
a single point glistening

to gentle comfort this
knowledge of my wasting,
the foresight of my limitations
from the day of birth
my matter,
matters,
my energy
neither destroyed or created,
illimitable,
my decline inevitable

and yet

cannot alter my atomic structure.
my future guaranteed,
my inner light,
traveling so fast,

it has yet

to arrive

When I enter a woman,
the laws of physics
become special theories
of relativity,
we are motion in time,
force and energy
nucleotides rawest refined,
elemental and particle nuclear,
packets of light
exclaimed

When I enter a woman,
organic, chemistry,
interdisciplinary
my body and its life force
shaped as
electric current transceivers
crossing galaxies,
there can be no deceivers,
there but and only
the birthing of heat,
a byproduct of
interjection, conjunction

she is my proof
long after the
log normal of my nerves,
now parceled to the
invisible of an oscillating
log natural,
fertilizes the sea grasses
that so intoxicate,
flying, carried,
by the invisiblity of the winds,
all-where I have chosen
as my shifting shape,
when this container
leaks and crack'd,
rentery orbit,
the nearest garbage strewn
construction-dead
lot

When I enter a woman,
physics far beyond
the commonplace,
physical transition
to knowledge
of life ever after

death and fear are
time sensitized
passing notions,
crushed by the
consolation of physics,
the eternality
of a time
once begun,
cannot end,
and therefore
this,
my one theory of everything,
is the God
I worship

on the paper
newly minted,
first time printed

causal pausation
assessment momentation
review, the second inclination,
then scrap-heaped,
in much bad company filed
retained, reserved, preserved,
for another go round,
another someday

you look at your hands,
telling them straight,
not good enough,
is not good enough
anymore

do try, so try,
three lines, four stanzas,
elegies and funerals
don't become you,
go into labor,
write labored
and birth free flowingly
knowing,
that all knowing glowing,
of a poem child,
product of
good enough

For Chalsey Wilder

Realizing that 'tis near five months,
that our ions, our verbal lips
have not crossed or caressed,
our words electric,
have not charged us
with current direct,
pleasured is my mind
intensely, devoutly,
to see your message
this Friday Sabbath eve

the weekly work toil,
now foiled
fair full my physical liberty,
from the tiresome and woeful.
your floral bequest,
presented as a request,
it's scent wishful and sad,
so hard to understand,
for your are a flower,
that makes this answering poem
grander

now and here, I fulfill,
this charted task,
with a poem answer crafted
by you, from me,
and entirely for you

your request, 'tis my obligation -
that is freedom

realizing that something in life,
you, being that something,
you, are that petal,
that the poetry breezes
accidentally sent to me,
by rambling, random chance

you posses and grant unto me
a freedom to love and lionize
a petal'd poetess and
heroic lioness

wish not in vain for a careless life,
care much, care hard, care so much,
as you do,
for in every poem you pen,
you betray yourself and prove
your sense and sensibilities,
the quality of caring,
the quality of human essential

well I know,
the illusion of blowing dandelions,
being envious of their
seemingly ***** nilly ways

well I know,
this experienced old
and extra foolish fool,
that the cares superficial
of a troubled existence,
woes of an uncaring world,
lay heavy and rare is a
hoped for easy discard
ever realized,
and for one
so young as you,
'tis heaviest burden of all

but look at the freedom here!

you gift me inspiration,
is that not power,
is that not freedom?

you gift me a willing to caring,
direction and harmony,
you scent me flowers,
you send me a poem,
each petal a part of a whole
astoundingly beautiful,
you, flower,
you, poetess,
you,
astoundingly beautiful

you ask me what do I think of your poem?

I think a flower
is astoundingly beautiful
never will I tear a petal from it,
and the let the imagined wind,
the image of free fall flight
tear it from me

never!
I love my flowers,
frolicking free,
breezed and caressed,
the freedom of caring
they grant,
is so easy,
yet so hard,
but I love it so,
as much as I love your poem

read this knowing,
this is your moment


------------------
Realizing something in life*

by Chalsey Wilder

Letting go of a flower petal
And the wind picking it up
for a ride to the unknown
Feeling something in your heart
as you realize a flower petal
has so much more freedom
than you do
It can be who it is
without a care while you can't
and flowers are loved for it
while you aren't

You stand there
wishing for a second,
for a mere second you wish
you were that flower petal
then you look down
then around
and walk away,
maybe still wishing
you
were that flower petal
or maybe having it
change you forever
Have you ever had a moment like this?
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/790345/realizing-something-in-life/

Three time this year,
tragedy my addiction,
will meet up with proffered poor Lear
and his fate, product of vile offspring,
for when he speaks to me,
he be the reminder, of the pain
tenderly tendered by one's own children

“And worse I may be yet: the worst is not
So long as we can say 'This is the worst.”

But where is my truest
brother king,
Henry V, the five,
his eloquence of brotherhood I hear once a day

"From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be rememberèd;
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile
This day shall gentle his condition"

Let me die this way,
companioned and brother championed,
let me not go down into my grave,
grey haired and betrayed by my own *****