#mote
At the limit of light speed,
where matter manifests as bits
no bigger than a smidgeon, super small
but all at once conditions
at cosmic cloud base forming once
not here and there, but at that point, right then
all at once
when photons happened where no photons had been.
then, everything that ever slowed
to solid state reflection just
generated such stars
as we must just imagine growing so big as to explode,
into the vast emptiness of never yet been, emptiness,
spacetime room to expand and live and learn knowing
the stuff stars disintegrate into,
phosphorus and carbon
and all the metals unknown
to Adam and his get for a while.
Rose lensed eyes detected Rhodium, and later
discovered catalytic conversion results in Rhodium air.
Just now, on the doomsday clock, in Sagan's last minute
one curious impulse led one time into alchemical overload
so well-orchestrated a harmonia, in a bubble of us thinking this.
Well, we who have elementary curiosity granted imaginary
friends as real to one as to another, sitting round a fire,
stirring smithereens to flight,
listening
to old ones thinking
uncussing unknowns kept
too sacred to share with stupid kids, known now by any
with general internet access technical literacy, this lets
us learn how babies are made, or not, literally essential
intuition, see, we feel we once were storyless, whinging
sooks such as we perceive once more being born into war.
In the distance we leave being all the old ones say we were.
Today, we wake up in Gaza City, and we are as motherless
children free from old constraints, save growling hunger
and shivering cold.
-- stop to think yourself just four or five, alive, in Gaza city,
surviving all these months in a basement kitchen with drainage
and a drip and sacks and sacks of horded chicken feed.
Take your time, old
become, and far far away…
marching through the noise orchestrated,
harmless through quieting down, settle into rhythm,
ever learning, never to learn everything, as matters scale,
nanograms per liter, to know all of us are a little bit new.
No generation before us had discernible Rhodium in us,
used to be… using us to become discretely all ways otherwise.
Because we breathe catalyzed air, discretely infusing us as one
kind, a species totally dependent on learning forever just to live.
Suspicions sneaking by suggest the color Rhodium is named for.
We suddenly leave be so known most certainly, we are new creatures.
We, first with these electrified realized truths, adapted to good sense
where with any able to handle the truth are used for realizing good news.
--------------------------------
AI says:
If Earth were a nanoparticle in the "cosmic soup,"
the observable universe would be the "vat."
The observable universe is about 93 billion light-years across.
Earth's diameter is about 12,742 kilometers.
{Earth's circumference, so how far
from me to anyone is thinkably close}
Al answers instantly:
At the equator: Approximately 24,901 miles (40,075 km).
{fake the math, we are so very near each other}
The scale difference is so vast that
if the observable universe were shrunk
to the size of Earth, our planet would be reduced
to a size smaller than an atom—roughly 1/180th
of an atom's diameter.
So, the "vat" would contain the entire observable universe,
emphasizing Earth's near-infinitesimal scale within it.
And the squish brains of all of us happened to occur in this vat.
For all the good we may imagine doing, at scale.
All our brains on point in the universal vat.
Apr 26
Apr 26, 2026 at 11:26 AM UTC
We all get rich, it fixes every thing, c'mon
Initial Public Offering.
Made inclusively to
all the children of all the wombed men,
but one,
by now, none else, for eons, unmarked
save in ashes under ancient tells,
none of these people, these *** of the gods,
and the one,
daughter of man who signed off on this story.
-live forever-
Thinking attracting needs,
deeds done that send funds, to wipe debt from mind.
Bring the wizard,
strip him bare, grind him to gore and gristle,
bone blood and all the biles, shake it up,
jiggle in the sack of skin, watchit
burst and puddle
in the flame,
is this pyrex? See
Bunsen burning in my brain, a mixture now,
oh wow
Schmachten-burger, cheese, *** of enlightened
hippie jews, shapers shaped in common fashion,
after the sixties finished, there arose guides to the goy
who knew nothing of the mystery,
save that Alice Toklas was not gay, in the Nineties way
Oy-vey, cultural appropriation, Jah, Jah is ours, as you
well know, we have esoterica galore, here buy
a mezuzah, ya, gutglück - all ah, ala phylacteries
raditional-rootish,
and these use that same parchment, goat skin,
very kosher halal and all, done
under strictest supervision, seeing super see, is
something the literate,
Phoenicians, Shem shah-mans, and their accountants,
first
discovered the territory within the skull of man,
was open to other minds,
in matters of wit
inventions'nshit, set a will to a way, watch,
come the future, we are famous…
who invented the wheel?
watch, watch, it winds around, a motion, anchored
to a plain truth in the left cerebral sorting station,
reflecting back,
rectal-rectumly linearly right co- oh, I see
cor-rect or co-recht, co-right, if nobody's wrong.
But there is no hateful god who made hell for those
who,
honed as honed may be, in punctual efforting
so
sharp, even on thorny issues,
motes
floating in the occular consomme,
slightly briney aqueous humor,
ha
to make a point in time to pierce anything
in my way
see clear, plumb the depths truth's base idea,
some things wish vehemently to be known,
must-er-ion, quest, ionic tipping
point whence the ring of eight
slips a point, and specs call
ion ion whither went thee?
ion, zion sion, see the gleam,
golden oil,
yes,
yes indeed, I did, I did pray
for this,
or something sorta like it,
peace on earth, good will toward man,
reconciliation complete perceived as done.
Can you hear me?
Did I lose loose links to long lies, left tied
to the stakeholders souls?
When did we realize the difference?
It must have taken years, and now, we see, match
the noses,
the eyes, or deeper even, look into the whites
of their mother's eggs…
see and know, or trust me, I know,
one wombed man's children, one,
the officially loneliest number. One
wom'man, woe,
science,
not Genesis, or Enuma Elish,
or the story from Braiding Sweetgrass,
but, old, old stories, told, once, at least,
by a witness,
-- it was as if the bone and all it was,
was altered, by a bit, a Y got a leg, or lost one,
I do not know, but bone of my bone,
was that one little bit,
more in one way, at the stem, and as branching
began, the one had daughters, who bhor daughters,
while from that generation forward,
the many others,
bore no children of any breathing form,
soon,
for this was not so long ago, mitomom, you know,
she had sisters and cousins and aunts
and a mother who had a mother
and a father who had a mother.
None
of the eggs in those wombs, ever lived to now,
but the eggs of the one wombed man we must
accept, she who shaped all after ever began
that instant when,
only one line remained, and there was no war.
No reason, at the time, but soon
in geo time,
we grew apart, branching on rivers
when we found them on our journeys from the east
- I think she
was likely deep dark brown, she links me to you,
stem cell level
and below,
logos in touch,
the code of silence. A cone, yes, the cone
of silence,
rolled from fool'scap, common in the great leaps
forward,
through the ages, as sons and daughters were born,
but
once,
something occurred,
a virus, or a leaven, or fish, perhaps,
rancid oil while the child waited for its form
to form in the wombed man, now known
as mom. She,
Mitochondrial source of the code that keeps us alive.
The same basic way batteries in blood
have been made since knowing
clickt.
Universes, realms of human reasons, piled in
lattice work bits and pieces,
joints and joiners,
that fit in particular places to form certain shapes
of things to come,
it is all very miniaturized, nano nano scale…
yes, did you know him, Mork?
I never did.
_ he does that so you don't think him arrogant,
ashamed to admit the use of the mind of christ
in a secular win the game way.
But what the hell, knowing ain't cheating, if you know
what's right,
wanna place a wager on the Robinhood IPO?
I gotta plan, see…
we go into such and such a city, we buy, we sell,
---intshallah
but this is the secret,
we sell debt,
you owe me, right, it works, it always works,
give and it is given unto you,
pressed down,
running over -- goods and services, nothing taxable
or tithe-able,
riches with no sorrow, added.
You interested? One time buy in. Two bits.
Jul 22, 2021
Jul 22, 2021 at 5:29 PM UTC
.
*Dust hangs in the still air,
caught by a shaft of light,
shiny sprinkles float serene,
in space a string-less kite.
A particle catches the eye,
playing tai-chi within a ray,
the stationary free dance
of a mote at indulgent play.*
© Pagan Paul (25/12/18)
Jan 3, 2019
Jan 3, 2019 at 6:28 AM UTC
as crickets renew their song
she came to me dreamlike
a lone candle held back the night
its thin light strong in her heart
as she brushed her flowing hair
and looked with distant eyes to unseen horizon
to unseen memories taste on the soul
the cost to any but the mad is too much
but she endured
she has seen the promised land
and the greener pastures she longs for
are a distant lands postcard stuck to
the torn up wall above her bed
not a single word pierces that painted smile
in the nights stillness
i retrace my steps
to stand exactly where she stood
as if the magic of her presence might still linger
i stand breathing gently
somehow believing that i can feel her in the air
not wishing even this empty moment to end
even if only half perceived
her delicate features were hauntingly beautiful
her long thick auburn hair wet
with the night's rain
she had come to ask
i came to answer
she silently leaned against me
i silently held her
love has no need of words
Jul 27, 2014
Jul 27, 2014 at 1:44 PM UTC