#divergence - Hello Poetry

When I first heard of your passing, I felt a tightness in my chest that no words could explain. It was a sort of gnawing feeling that something good has gone. After all, that has always been how I viewed you – a light that shone so brightly, I had no choice but to emulate; a soul filled with much kindness, I was compelled to be and do the same. And in the face of an irrefutable claim to goodness, I have grown, learned, and understood what it meant to be a thoughtful educator, a responsible scientist, and a good human being. Working alongside you for years, I have seen your relentless pursuit of excellence – concrete and tangible, with clear results. It gave structure to my then abstract leanings to achieving the best – not only for myself, but also for – especially for – those we taught and honed. I regard these moments as the beginnings of my lifelong journey to figuring out what I should strive for with this ever so transient life. Last we spoke, I was headed for Italy and you were on your way to recovery. I was anticipating the time when we could meet again and exchange stories like we used to. Sadly, we never got the chance. Your death is a great loss – not only for the institution, but for humanity at large. My only respite lies in the belief that you are now someplace where pain and suffering cannot touch you. Still, I’d like to imagine that if I had one more chance to see you, I’d have shown you all the places in the West where I have roamed, and tell the intricacies of their science. If I had one more chance to speak with you, I’d say that the man I’ve become is, in so many ways, due to you. If I had one more chance to talk with you, I’d tell you that your influence is not lost – it is alive and well in me, and in countless others whose lives you’ve touched. So while we will dearly miss you, as far as missing goes – you will live on in our hearts and in our lives. I, for one, will make sure of that – you will live on.

0

Jan 18

Jan 18, 2026 at 5:20 PM UTC

DavidBryanLao

The Final Divergence

When I first heard of your passing, I felt a tightness in my chest that no words could explain. It was a sort of gnawing feeling that something good has gone. After all, that has always been how I viewed you – a light that shone so brightly, I had no choice but to emulate; a soul filled with much kindness, I was compelled to be and do the same. And in the face of an irrefutable claim to goodness, I have grown, learned, and understood what it meant to be a thoughtful educator, a responsible scientist, and a good human being. Working alongside you for years, I have seen your relentless pursuit of excellence – concrete and tangible, with clear results. It gave structure to my then abstract leanings to achieving the best – not only for myself, but also for – especially for – those we taught and honed. I regard these moments as the beginnings of my lifelong journey to figuring out what I should strive for with this ever so transient life. Last we spoke, I was headed for Italy and you were on your way to recovery. I was anticipating the time when we could meet again and exchange stories like we used to. Sadly, we never got the chance. Your death is a great loss – not only for the institution, but for humanity at large. My only respite lies in the belief that you are now someplace where pain and suffering cannot touch you. Still, I’d like to imagine that if I had one more chance to see you, I’d have shown you all the places in the West where I have roamed, and tell the intricacies of their science. If I had one more chance to speak with you, I’d say that the man I’ve become is, in so many ways, due to you. If I had one more chance to talk with you, I’d tell you that your influence is not lost – it is alive and well in me, and in countless others whose lives you’ve touched. So while we will dearly miss you, as far as missing goes – you will live on in our hearts and in our lives. I, for one, will make sure of that – you will live on.

5

In my language I am seen I am known In my language I am home In my tone And at my pace I will invite you Into my space In my language In my words I come alive When I am heard In my language You will learn The depth of me And another earth

0

Jun 23, 2025

Jun 23, 2025 at 2:01 AM UTC

spicy-digits

In My

In my language I am seen I am known In my language I am home In my tone And at my pace I will invite you Into my space In my language In my words I come alive When I am heard In my language You will learn The depth of me And another earth

17

Yesterday I was to be still I was to be small, folded My body needed darkness And in absence, re-moulded. Today I am muscle contractions I am cleaving ice Pulsating, whirring machinery Oil, wax and spice. Tomorrow I hope I am opalescent Wet with new skin Creative and energised anew Flowing, flowing within.

0

Jul 15, 2025

Jul 15, 2025 at 11:46 PM UTC

spicy-digits

Takiwātanga

Yesterday I was to be still I was to be small, folded My body needed darkness And in absence, re-moulded. Today I am muscle contractions I am cleaving ice Pulsating, whirring machinery Oil, wax and spice. Tomorrow I hope I am opalescent Wet with new skin Creative and energised anew Flowing, flowing within.

15

I keep telling you Our courses are diverging, And they are, By another degree with Every ****** row, Every irrational rant, I'm not sure quite How many degrees apart We are now because we Sometimes correct a bit, But more than one I think, It doesnt matter though, Because with each degree And 60 miles travelled I'll be a mile away, We travelled four years Thus far and even from a mile away I won't hear you any more, That is a mathematical certainty, But your hand is on the wheel, Of your ship And so is mine on mine, And soon it'll be time to tack.

0

Aug 21, 2024

Aug 21, 2024 at 4:58 PM UTC

jamesb

2 degrees

I keep telling you Our courses are diverging, And they are, By another degree with Every ****** row, Every irrational rant, I'm not sure quite How many degrees apart We are now because we Sometimes correct a bit, But more than one I think, It doesnt matter though, Because with each degree And 60 miles travelled I'll be a mile away, We travelled four years Thus far and even from a mile away I won't hear you any more, That is a mathematical certainty, But your hand is on the wheel, Of your ship And so is mine on mine, And soon it'll be time to tack.

23

The darkness of the road That you left unexplored The you that never lived And all their smothered words You left yourself for dead Went on your merry way Let shadow claim what might Have been a better day You murderer, you coward Indulgent homicide You **** so many worlds With every careless stride

0

Feb 2, 2021

Feb 2, 2021 at 11:45 AM UTC

Root_Head

Wake

The darkness of the road That you left unexplored The you that never lived And all their smothered words You left yourself for dead Went on your merry way Let shadow claim what might Have been a better day You murderer, you coward Indulgent homicide You **** so many worlds With every careless stride

12

Since when did we carve coffins (with a coldness we can hibernate in) out of each other’s cruelty? Had i known gods perish by their believers’ hand, i would’ve stopped you from swearing — on our mutual martyrdom — “*Cross my heart and Hope to die.*”

0

Apr 14, 2018

Apr 14, 2018 at 1:31 AM UTC

eliciahurst

How We Took Each Other's Name In Vain

Since when did we carve coffins (with a coldness we can hibernate in) out of each other’s cruelty? Had i known gods perish by their believers’ hand, i would’ve stopped you from swearing — on our mutual martyrdom — “*Cross my heart and Hope to die.*”

10

I picture us falling down a bottomless pit And we're nearing a section with a divergence in it We can hold each other as close as we want in the minutes we have left But that does not change the reality that the divider will show up And split us in two Let us imitate intimacy While we're still in each other's vicinity And though I've inconsistently felt your proximity, I know that, for now, you're here with me A day before she goes, it feels like it could snow It's so cold out A day before she goes, I find myself below Just crying out Our hearts, heavy, worn, ignorant of what to do They cling to each other and wish that the two Could once again become one And that this all would be done

0

Jan 23, 2017

Jan 23, 2017 at 11:27 AM UTC

anthony-james-brandy

a day before she goes

I picture us falling down a bottomless pit And we're nearing a section with a divergence in it We can hold each other as close as we want in the minutes we have left But that does not change the reality that the divider will show up And split us in two Let us imitate intimacy While we're still in each other's vicinity And though I've inconsistently felt your proximity, I know that, for now, you're here with me A day before she goes, it feels like it could snow It's so cold out A day before she goes, I find myself below Just crying out Our hearts, heavy, worn, ignorant of what to do They cling to each other and wish that the two Could once again become one And that this all would be done

17

This is a cattle nation, an endless sea of black and white floating perpetually towards a smudged horizon, grey and faded and seemingly farther away with each step. I feel confined in this world of flat-irons and resumes and the words and the people who say the words but really mean something else, expecting me to speak in the same cookie-cutter sentences and plan out a logical progression of mundanity to cloak myself behind, placing my footsteps carefully in the molding that was set by the infinite faceless people that trudged on before me. There is no fork in this path, no place where it splits into two strips of gravel, but there is grass on either side, waist-high and swaying rhythmically in the breeze; I step out of my molding, out of my cloak and there is mud soaking my feet, grass grazing my bare knees and I can see music and hear color. I look at the black and white creatures who can see only shapes and shades and their grey destination and I turn around. I feel free in this world of choices and serenity, allowing my feet to lead me to where the tall grass meets a pond; my body caked in dirt, my hair loose and curly, my lungs full of air. The wind whispers fervently, words unlike anything I have ever heard telling me of that feeling between hiccup-sobs and moving on, between being tied down and pulling away, reminding me of the moments of calm and moments of chaos that eventually led me Here. Staring into the reflection in the pond, where the transparency meets the slow ripples, and I see Me. Alone, leading the way to my new destination.

0

Jan 7, 2017

Jan 7, 2017 at 12:48 PM UTC

aftermaths

Untitled

This is a cattle nation, an endless sea of black and white floating perpetually towards a smudged horizon, grey and faded and seemingly farther away with each step. I feel confined in this world of flat-irons and resumes and the words and the people who say the words but really mean something else, expecting me to speak in the same cookie-cutter sentences and plan out a logical progression of mundanity to cloak myself behind, placing my footsteps carefully in the molding that was set by the infinite faceless people that trudged on before me. There is no fork in this path, no place where it splits into two strips of gravel, but there is grass on either side, waist-high and swaying rhythmically in the breeze; I step out of my molding, out of my cloak and there is mud soaking my feet, grass grazing my bare knees and I can see music and hear color. I look at the black and white creatures who can see only shapes and shades and their grey destination and I turn around. I feel free in this world of choices and serenity, allowing my feet to lead me to where the tall grass meets a pond; my body caked in dirt, my hair loose and curly, my lungs full of air. The wind whispers fervently, words unlike anything I have ever heard telling me of that feeling between hiccup-sobs and moving on, between being tied down and pulling away, reminding me of the moments of calm and moments of chaos that eventually led me Here. Staring into the reflection in the pond, where the transparency meets the slow ripples, and I see Me. Alone, leading the way to my new destination.

68

***Millions of masks on this earth, Each so vivid and so beautiful. Behind each resides a silent soul With the deepest stories untold. The masks get carried away with time, But the souls remain, forever the same. They search for other masks and with it other stories. And the stories get buried forever, Leaving behind the greatest of its glories.***

0

Aug 5, 2014

Aug 5, 2014 at 11:46 AM UTC

mrx

The Masks

***Millions of masks on this earth, Each so vivid and so beautiful. Behind each resides a silent soul With the deepest stories untold. The masks get carried away with time, But the souls remain, forever the same. They search for other masks and with it other stories. And the stories get buried forever, Leaving behind the greatest of its glories.***

10

The clouds above us weep at the sight of your departing footprints, but don't fear, love, for from these relentless tears, beautiful flowers shall sprout and the heavy goodbyes that engraved your lonely footprints will be replaced with welcoming embraces and the light laughter of a new beginning.

0

Mar 30, 2014

Mar 30, 2014 at 11:19 PM UTC

c-e-smith

Footprints

The clouds above us weep at the sight of your departing footprints, but don't fear, love, for from these relentless tears, beautiful flowers shall sprout and the heavy goodbyes that engraved your lonely footprints will be replaced with welcoming embraces and the light laughter of a new beginning.

11