"astrophysicists" poems
Do not fall in love with Astrophysicists
We will tell you that
Your eyes glimmer like the stars
you have galaxies swimming in your veins
That your words sound like the spinning of a world around a sun
That the planet recently discovered dwarfs
In comparison to you
And that you are our universe
And when we are gone
You will never be able
To look up
Ever again
Jan 4, 2015
Jan 4, 2015 at 2:37 PM UTC
Questions are often asked
about my optimistic smile,
the happy-go-lucky personality
and unwavering confidence.
The most common question:
*How do you know
these things?*
I don't ******* know.
I know nothing.
I have no ******* idea
where 73% of my thoughts, words and ideas come from.
I don't even feel like it's "me"
speaking/typing most of the time.
Sometimes I have no idea
that i'm telling you
It's going to be alright
because the words just
charge out of my mouth.
But I'm saying what is inside my brain.
I don't think about it.
That's my reaction.
Confused yet?
In the end
it's all going to be alright
cause we'll be dead.
Either our conscious ceases
or we are reconnected to all things--
that complete warm one-with-all feeling
some call god or heaven or nirvana
but we're going to forget all this stupid **** anyway.
I have no clue what I do or don't know,
between your volatility of perception
and society trying to hypnotize me
into complacency while it slowly burns away,
I'm lucky to know my own ******* name.
If you want answers to life's questions,
stay away from me.
Ask someone shrewd enough
who pretends to know.
Personally, I don't think there are any answers
because they are whatever each person
wishes them to be.
I can only tell you
what I feel and see in each moment
as it's happening.
Ask allah, preachers, Zen, astrophysicists, philosophers, Reikis, dictionary writers, lawyers, mathematicians, astrologists, Buddha, Industrial engineers, the ******* guy who delivers your food (or anyone really) for answers
and more than likely you will have different kinds of **** answers.
But if you ask yourself,
you will find truth.
Jan 29, 2013
Jan 29, 2013 at 9:43 AM UTC
the worst thing is the realization
you have nothing to say.
the worst thing is
a collision of words spinning
deaf into a vortex of irrelevance.
you finally understand.
you are like the rest of them.
you have nothing to contribute.
silence is cancer
deaf and dumb metastasis.
it happens to giants and dwarfs
locksmiths and astrophysicists
mathematicians and short order cooks.
it happens to saints and serial murderers.
silence so deafening
it barters with suicide.
maybe that’s
why they invented
television.
Feb 15, 2015
Feb 15, 2015 at 11:58 AM UTC
astrophysicists have a thing with black holes
that mass, their chalked out event horizons.
i always thought i could be an astrophysicist
i could peer through my telescope
equations would litter my chalkboard
i would map the celestial bodies and
black holes.
i think i am an astrophysicist.
every day i peer through my telescope
lenses millimeters thick
i sit anywhere
equations litter my head, my parchment
the black holes are strangely visible with
my telescope, the pair of them
they beckon at me
i can feel the gravitational pull
no, you're not fat
never
but your pull tugs at me, my strings
heartstrings
so does my vision that naturally gravitates towards them
i think i will publish my findings soon.
i think i am an astrophysicist.
Jul 28, 2017
Jul 28, 2017 at 11:38 AM UTC
The sun shined down on our heads
At the pond, between clouds.
The water was cold.
A man adjusted his static-y radio behind us,
Tuning in the Tigers game.
I’d feel this way anywhere.
I decided,
I’d feel this way anywhere.
Surrounded by pine mountain beauty,
In a parked trailer in the forest,
In Southern Ohio, with friends, in a house
Driving in the van, between Kentucky and Tennessee,
With my parents, in the garage,
I’d feel this way anywhere, at least after a couple of days,
Especially after a couple of weeks.
I get restless, and wonder,
While I’m shovelling piles of mulch into a wheel barrow,
Why am I doing this? After graduating from college, why
I like the sun and working,
And Voltaire and everybody said go back to the garden,
Get back to the garden,
And in 2018 this is what that translates to,
On my knees spreading mulch with my hands
In an Astrophysicists’ backyard
Where there’s a fish pond, and big green shade
And we eat on the patio while him and his wife
Talk about how they built a cabin up north,
How they hauled the wood in three-quarters of a mile
And suddenly, I feel it again
I need to do that,
Why am I doing this when I could be doing that?
While I’m stacking dishes of breakfast foods on large trays,
And telling others I’m behind them,
Snow is falling silently outside and it feels good and bad.
When I’m quietly reading a book in a classroom,
And suddenly look up to realize I’m surrounded by 13-year-olds.
"How did I get here''?
In the spring I’m leaving.
Jan 23, 2019
Jan 23, 2019 at 5:13 PM UTC
Look at those astronomers and astrophysicists
As they attempt to comprehend the universe's mysteries
Stalking stars in the heavens they may never reach
So much discovered, even more yet to be
I can relate.
Mar 20, 2017
Mar 20, 2017 at 8:13 AM UTC
Deciphering astrophysicists’ thought
processing; this not any too easy.
What matter dark matter sought
or if moons be made so cheesy?
Theory ever emphasized seem ******
What is there here to prove
amongst this space exploration?
Distancing self from earth you’ve
denied Mother Earth’s lactation.
Get real here right now education.
Are you listening dear NOVA TV?
Big Bang me where sun does not shine.
What care I to search galaxy,
when to me worldly poems seem fine?
Just where do we draw literate line?
Losing language of our cultures
as we see school funding disintegrate.
Lockheed Martin be the vultures.
Less deploying do we need to integrate:
for a monkey would I rather imitate.
Eeek! Eeek!
Apr 27, 2016
Apr 27, 2016 at 7:48 AM UTC
why doesn't the wind from the swings give enough momentum for us to pick up our feet or
teach us the difference between anger and fear?
my face is always in the dirt, like a colorblind politician or like some self-loathing gardener with no sun-screen. i bleed daily to ensure i will not bite off more than i can stuff into my pockets while brothers and sisters can't make eye contact and the astrophysicists are left to the shelters.
my eyeballs have poured out onto the cutting board like broken faucets and we rubberneck but
who's actually here to see the show?
Aug 1, 2016
Aug 1, 2016 at 12:18 AM UTC
If I am expanding with space then where am I standing right now?
It cannot be here because here's moved there
and where there was there is longer there or not here,
how very queer.
I like the solutions that Astrophysicists give,
it's like they live in a bubble, perhaps
in the Hubble,
Telescope me to where I should be,
in an hour or a day, in an
expansionist way,
Feb 19, 2015
Feb 19, 2015 at 8:08 PM UTC