Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jun 2020
whar sort of:   e = mc³ is there...

      drinking homemade wine
and looking at...
what ought to be...

   somewhat of a conestellation...
then squinting my right eye
with the left-eyed closed...

"wondering"
  and that light is not designated
to space: but a distance...

  it's so lesser: and by lessening:
all the more... spec-tac-ular...
        this wondering source
of light... through a squinting...
becomes a measure...
of what keeps itself intact:
in a posit...
yet somehow moves...
count a fraction:
by the fraction being kept...
intact...

  from a c³ source...
puincture...
toward a c²... linear motion...
it has had to become...
bothersome...
to explain distance...
and "space"...
to quest for the desire of...
in light years...
that implies:
travelling... at the speed
of light... for a whole year...

how can you travel at
the speed of light...
without... exploding in
the first instance of the speed:
being tested?!

surely there's a c³ equation
as there was a c²...
        c³: the √m?
                i squint my eye...
and peer at the edison bulb...
the light travels way past my eye
and into my mind...

i like the safeguard of being
an ******* riddle...
             but with what i have seen...
stars are oddly antithesis
in their behaviour...
invthis riddle... this riddled
of time past...
past enough time to congest
the time worthy of having spent...

that there was so much as...
ambition... leftover...
  
       c³: the speed of light:
kept intact...
cubic to mind the star in question...
what life has taught me...
is to own... failing...
at it...
it's not that i want to fail...
i must abhor... making
success incissions into it...

i said of the past...
and 1 father and 2 mothers prior...
don't you think...
your luck for the worth of ambition
can... somehow... end?

time the past a man...
ambition is somewhat revealing...
can i be the lost loitering
quip:    no quip!

i'd die more sooner...
i'd merger with a sooner: die i must...
no sooner than a death's
crescendo: before i loiter...
there's that self-evident tract of
bothersome closures...
of this essential: man...
his essentiality of quest is...
to... "somehow"...
make his death... a "formality"...

the speed of light made cubic...
implosive dynamics...
no matter:
best left... unread.
Mateuš Conrad
Written by
Mateuš Conrad  36/M/Essex (England)
(36/M/Essex (England))   
38
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems