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Giovanna Aug 18
I daydream for multiverse.
The entirety in reverse.
All the enimety,
rebuilds into intimacy.
A place equal to Paradise,
occupied by people with faces less than that of a dice.
Where maybe I wasn't invisible to you.
Where my existence was a little less blue.
A place where you'd love me,
and I could love me too.
A fetish for multiverse.
The girl in my dreams
is not the Girl Of My Dreams.
The girl in my dreams
is a dream, not a girl.
Ephemeral as an 80s B-list starlet,
gauche garish gorgeous Kim Chemtrail.
Yet also a goddess template,
Aphrodite Melainis
scantilyclad in sambhogakaya.

IRL I flop on the family sofa,
a throne of domus et placens uxor,
nottomention my heart's megastar my daughter.
Yet inmyheadinbed, composite nondescript
geheimniskramerin girl
pulls up alluringly in a stolenconvertible
stolen from the 'no time to explain' meme,
jauntily exhorts, 'Jump in! I'll tell you
we're going nowhere on the way!'

She sparks me up an ex-addict's nonaddictive
dream ciggie (still a nightly motif,
tho' 5 years clear of Lucifer's leaf).
Her composite nondescript organic
signalbox of a shifting photofit dreamface
I can't quite place.  
But she has a name, this fume fatale:
Nonia Art Thrush. & a battlecry:
'Namas'cray till athanasy!'

Is Nonia Art Thrush
the girlnextdoor
from the cosmicinflationary brane nextdoor?
Are dreams a multiversal telepathic datingapp
for la creamy reruns of lacrimae rerum
on the Earth at Lagrangepoint 3,
where Nonia's my girl
when the Sham Pistols ruled the world?
She's not a girl from another poem,

tho' she could be the femmeinspiratrice
of all my fragma & very,very late uptodate
mature juvenalia, the nominelle negatotty
Dulcinea del Tanothetawave
who favours my quest
for Artistic Failure,
poesy w/ no ring to it. Honestlynot
a tosstalgic wifeinwatercolours
under oneiric slylid covers

(tho' she may boast grainy shifty
magnificent ghostbristols
of undulating proportions & angles):
the girl in my dreams
is not The Girl Of My Dreams.
She could be some Venus usherette,
bangtidy holy midinette, some former fondler
over yonder, the one who gotaway
my grey beautycomputer can't remember.

Composint **** squintingly minted
for REM cameo (tonic/phasic mo', not Mike Stipe & Co)
in some avenue scene fugue
of dreary bleary dream.
In the hinterplaying hinterior, where
oracles forage in the dark in the past,
& I snore a traumarbeit breathoflife
into phantoms nostalgia warehoused
by my ostrichopus unconscious.

Despite all my age,
I'm still just a nostalgerbil in a cage
of longing for the longings of longago.
I twinge w/ wist tinged by the mist
of Nonia Art Thrush as she diZZZolves
into the ideal foam of Dream's
foundations. L/ Nora Fries,
a bride on ice, for still was the life
that dies in the mind.

Paramnesic Nod's
just the worldride rerouted for sleepers,
leased creatures blithe. I rollover
to my wife,  noctivagant gallant
who's been by herside allnight.
'Namas'cray till athanasy,'
I mutter. 'What's that, hubbers?'
'Erm, it's Bedfordshire's county motto,
my hardlight angel Aurora, it means:

'The girl in my dreams
is not The Girl Of My Dreams.'
There’s infinite universes,right?
I think you told me about some theory ,once upon a time, that there’s infinite universes,all different, in at least some minor aspect.
That means there’s one where dogs wear hats and clothes and walk people who try to eat squirrels.
That means there’s one where colorful dirt runs the world.
One where cities move on the back of giant reptiles
One where fairies kidnap people and magic is real.

I’d like that theory to be true.


I’d like to think it is,at least.
I’d like to think there’s one
Where I’m not empty inside.
One where we’re having burgers
At that place you liked- It had a color in its name, and the dog is barking and running around,and we’re laughing at some inside joke,and I don't consider jumping out the window every single day,and we’re happy.
inspired by the poem (The Multiverse Theory) by Autumn Stott and The worst ballad ever written by Harsha
Paul Butters May 2
It’s a well-known thing
That I worship Mother Nature
Like many more.
For her works adorn the sweeping panorama
Of our world.

From the mountain tops
To unfathomable ocean floors,
Lush rain forests
To polar ice caps
And boiling hot geysers
Her empire almost has no bounds.

Yet our planet is but a blue speck
On an endless beach
That spans the universe
And maybe multiverse.

For Mother Nature began her work
Long before our “Earth” was born.
She began from Nothing:
Some “Singularity” expanding
To form our Universe.
Clusters of galaxies were formed,
Swathed in clouds of dust and gas
Nebulae nurseries, birthing stars.
Light stars lived and died
To reform as heavy stars
With planets and moons.

So now we have a realm of worlds,
Nestled in the Goldilocks Zones of their suns
Teeming with water
And possibly Life.

The formula is everywhere:
Worlds, water, warmth, minerals
Carbon, Oxygen perhaps
With other well known building blocks of life.
Of life almost inevitable.

So we see
That the realm of Mother Nature
May well be infinite
And eternal.
We must help her as best we can,
Guarding our own health first of all
Then always seeking
To make her garden grow.

Paul Butters

© PB 2\5\2020.
Mother Nature!
Paul Butters Apr 22
We pray for salvation
To a Supreme Being
We hope exists.
But how is God possible
In an infinite number of infinite multiverses
Lasting forever?

We find our God
(We think)
Only to discover there is a Bigger One.
Then another!

Beyond is followed by beyond
Age by age by age
Light year by light year
Never ending.

Due reverence to every god,
But does each god have a god in turn?
Something tells me there are bound to be
Greater powers and intellects than us.

Yet, as the proverb says
We are all in the same boat:
A ship that sails a boundless ocean
Of space and time.

We can steam ahead
In a straight line
Only to eventually find ourselves
Back where we began.

All of us are lost.
But the good news is:
We are all lost together.

Paul Butters

© PB 22\4\2020.
As my friends would say, another "deep one". ;)
In an another multiverse
      The other me might be better
Skinny and with goals in his mind
       and a beautiful heart

But he may have the riches
         and the expensive watches...

I have you in this universe
        My road may be broken  
             from the decisions I made
yet you held my hand
       And that's makes my universe
      better than the others
Iloveyou
uselace Sep 2019
what people seem to miss
about infinity-
infinite universes
in particular
is that not only
is there infinite good,
there is also infinite bad
looming
and inevitable
because for every universe
in which cancer is cured
there is one
where humanity was wiped out
years ago
we choose, however
to see the infinite good
i hope
that says something
about all of us.
the multiverse is almost an escape for me. it's so cool to think about.
Yours,
I still fear...

Well,
It was just
A short few

Months ago
I first
Traveled

To my
Own
Universe

I was so
Afraid
For so many
Stupid
Reasons

Oh my Lorde!
Uranus!!
Oh, Galaxies!!!

I don't know
Much about the planet,
But geez-oh-wheez

My behind
Has been
Living
A hole
New Life
Since we
Bought that thing

That prostate
Toy

We just call
Yum yum
Now
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