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Graydon Archer Oct 2012
Once a long, long time ago, in a land so far away.

There was a tiny, little man, ten pounds was all he’d weigh.

And this is the story, the one I wish to tell,

about his adventures, and the land in which he dwell.

His name was Erwin Stumplerump. He stood at two foot, three.

Around him hung a mystic cloak, that draped below his knees.

He was of Elfin heritage, with a grand and noble past.

His parents were the monarchs, of a kingdom great, and vast.

Erwin’s home was magical! It spread both far and wide,

and Erwin knew it inside out. He’d walked it side to side.

Top to bottom, here and there. And all that lie between.

There wasn’t any piece of ground, that Erwin hadn’t seen.

There was one spot that Erwin loved, far better than the rest.

And that spot was the ocean’s beach, that lies off to the west.

Erwin loved to comb the beach. What treasures could be found?

Perhaps a chest of golden coins, from a ship that ran aground!

Walking on the beach one day, a glitter caught his eye.

Could it be a treasure? Perchance was Captain Bligh’s!

He ran to investigate. What treasure could it be?

A chest of royal trinkets? The thought filled him with glee.

But alas it was not treasure. But something just as well!

It was the shimmer of the sun. Reflecting off a bell.

“What kind of bell have I found?” asked Erwin to himself.

It wasn’t just a normal bell, but one made by an Elf.

Erwin pulled the bell he’d found from it’s resting place.

And upon it’s golden body, was an etching of a face.

When it was in Erwin’s grasp, he gave the bell a shake.

He wanted to hear the sound this golden bell would make.

As soon as Erwin rand the bell, a misty cloud appeared.

Erwin quickly dropped it down, as something to be feared.

At once, within the misty cloud, a form began to shape.

Twas of a Elfin princess, with a jewel- encrusted cape.

Erwin’s eyes opened wide, he marveled at the sight.

"Who are you?" Erwin asked, "You gave me such a fright!'

The princess spoke out softly, with a voice so smooth and clear.

"You need not be frigtened, it was your fate that brought you here.

You do not have to fear me, you've freed me from the bell!

I've been trapped in it's grasp for as long as I can tell.

I am the Princess Lyria, and I owe you a great deal

Gaze upon this ring I wear, it is my father's seal.

I come from far across the sea, from the land of Emerald green,

A land of such great beauty, it's as if it were a dream.

There is a wicked wizard there. He trapped me in this bell.

By using his black magic, he cast an evil spell.

But you have broke that evil curse, by ringing of the bell,

And now I can go home again, and you can come as well! "

Erwin told the Princess, " I'm glad that you are free,

but I must stay were I belong, and here is were I'll be."

So the Princess thanked him, and went on her way.

And Erwin still walks the beach, and thinks of her each day.
Third Eye Candy Jun 2018
The mug stains leapfrog a linoleum asphalt countertop, sunbathing in the breakfast nook.
A magazine proofreads a hole in a bagel. Scanning for clues to the whereabouts
Of a Jewish heart. Beads of Oolong tea archipelago from a resting kettle
All the way to the 'good ' China. A cup on a pearl, laying flat… ear to the ground.
Listening to the stories only Formica can tell. Deciphering the steam
Rising from a steep. Curling whiskers into omens, embroidered upon a shaft of light
Heaven sent. Postage dew. Gilding quaint luxuries, tucked in a cozy roost
Smelling of oak musk and slow roasted dreams, evaporating before memory may lay claim
To the riddles of Morpheus. There’s an aire of Return.  
It molts in the bacon fats hovering in the strata unique to kitchen islands lousy with active volcanoes that shuffle in stocking feet and terry cloth bathrobes. Restless and foggy minded.
Looking for the keys. And...
Chewing a thumbnail. Staring out the window. Where there used to be a car in the driveway. But the officer flagged a taxi. Explains the migraine, like a Vulcan; stoically flipping switches in a fuse box wired to a vague recollection of a soiree.
All the while holding a pitchfork and today's horoscope.
For irony and street cred.

{ But out of cream cheese. }

Concurrently... This part of the house still has the rustic naivete of a celibate beatnik picking teeth with a signature pen presenting an Hawaiian girl with a vanishing skirt; blinking in and out of Vaud-villainy, like Erwin Schrödinger’s Cat. A kind of hole in a barge with an ornate cubby; loitering with sugar cubes and a bendy plastic fern.
Like the foyer to a room, still under construction.
      A busy little metaphor, lounging around the east wing of a humble abode… like news clippings in a mason jar… it’s superfluous handle threading a ceramic eye.
Like a stainless steel joke under a refrigerator magnet, pinned to a plate in your forehead. As any lamp-shade with ambition.  
      Playing to a rough Cloud, hung over an ashtray; that has seen Better Days - envy the baroque occlusion of monotony and routine, merging a hangover - into morning traffic. Replete with modest gains.
And Horizons that stab bleary eyes that would know a gypsy
By the weight of her purse…
     When the day begins, it gains a foothold by the spine of an overdue book, reclining adjacent runcible spoons and antique kitche. As a bathroom light squeaks between a door and a frame.
As ancillary and precise as a beacon for a blindfold.

Like turpentine palming a brick. And Wagner.
saw:

the adoration of the daddy,
as his red haired babes
leaned into
either side of him,
courtiers to a king
on the way to school this AM,
transfusing his magical super~fatherly,
by inhaling his special powers through
their nostrils, direct from his
broad and powerful brave-heart chest,
for use later in the wild jungle
of second grade
•••
an elderly gent whose walker rattled
with every lift and kerplunk on
the street~steppes of a dangerous city
for the brittle of bone and the easily dentable,
and the crowd that gathered round walking
at precisely the same pace he required
to make it across the widest boulevard
which was thirty seconds more than the
Dept. of Transportation's asinine calculations
and a miracle from Lourdes occurred -
not one horn honked in ire as the court
escorted their Long Live the King
safely across the street, as if
idiocy was like rain, against the law,
until after sunset as in Camelot

•••
an elegant germanic man,
in homburg and velvet collared overcoat,
taking care of sales and distribution of
newspapers and candy at the corner paper "stand"
while the elderly owner, whose partner~wife of
fifty years had recently passed, now had no one
but someone's pop whose was out
walking our cocker spaniel,
to tend the place while said candyman
obeyed nature's callings

and all his fans and friends who passed
on their way to the adjacent subway station,
exclaimed Erwin, Erwin what are you doing?
his twinkled crinkled eyes replied,
enjoying their puzzlement, laughingly saying
"making spare change"
•••
where I lived these little miracles occurred so frequently,
was told a story that the ministering angels
could not keep up with their duties,
complaining to the On High, who resoundingly loudly
commanded their silence! by reminding them that
all these, his creatures, were his own precious,
the reason for creation and why they were needed,
and the sum of all these small acts gave them their own
existential purpose, now angry at himself for loss of temper,
soft spoke as a parent and told them better,
hush my children, we have much to do!
•••
so now you impatiently need to know
why this scripture
came to be known as
$$$$$
for I was witness to all of this,
all on that day,
that was twenty fours hours long
across many hard hearted Hiroshima decades,
that made me
temporarily
the richest man in the world
a proud member of the collective of the false.
The Clinchfield line flows from the mines -  and through the mountains of East Tennessee.
Wher menageries go to provide such a show - the likes of those we'd never  see.

The first glimpse of these beasts that came from the east - and such places where we'll never live.
They rolled in on the back and were pulled up the track - by the huge steel Loco-motive.

With this rolling stock that would bring such a shock - to the bustling boom town of Erwin.
All sorts of creatures where brought here to feature - where paying guests could get set to determine.

A lumbering cow was this company's wow - this Circus did owe its success.
But this pachyderm act would in time distract - and end up in a most awful mess.

Mary we can claim was this elephants name - and the boast is “the biggest in size.”  
For she sure was a hulk and endowed with such bulk - that I wouldn't be very surprised.

Too earn a few bob, Eldridge, new to the job – now the handler of this pachyderm.
This man was a fool and it seems, very cruel - as it said, he was overly firm.

He was void of the skill but enthused by the thrill - with a very go-for-broke view.
This creature he'd ***** with a great big stick – giving Mary a bad how-to-do.

He had picked the wrong day to cause this affray – as he jabbed with the long piece of wood.
Whilst he was being so rough he hit an absessed tooth – and believe me this figured no good.

With one painful bellow her trunk hit this fellow – throwing Red Eldridge around.
And such was her tread when she trod on his head – she crushed it right into the ground.

Bullets rang out and there was no doubt – they hadn't had any effect.
As before the crowd she still trumpeted loud – while the masses, revenge did select.

**** the elephant, **** the elephant – was the song that the crowds chose to sing.
Each and every man came up with the plan – they wanted poor Mary to swing.

The lynching was set and a huge crane was met – for Mary was five tons in weight.
Out in front of the crowds with them screaming out loud – her future was not looking great.

They secured her leg by a chain to a peg – whilst around her neck they placed a chain.
And whilst reeling it in it dug into the skin – as they lifted her up with the crane.

Back on the ground they heard such a sound – as Mary's big bones they did crack.
Then somebody said the chains still on her leg – and the elephant to earth did come back.

The effect of this trip broke the pachyderms hip – causing her incredible pain.
And with such neglect they then did reconnect – and they lifted the creature once again.

The crowds they did roar as Mary did soar – a day out it has to be said.
With laughter and glee for the whole family – this monster now hanging quite dead.

The elephant gone but the party went on – as this beauty did hang for this shower.
The boom town of Erwin all acted like vermin – and left her for almost an hour.

Buried in the ground she can not now be found – as many here try to forget.
To look in this face we see only disgrace – and forever this stone will be set.
6th November 2014

The town that hanged an elephant: A chilling photo and a macabre story of ****** and revenge
Charlie Sparks's travelling circus visited Kingsport, Tennessee, in 1916
An inexperienced keeper was put in charge of elephant called Mary
During a parade he goaded her with a spear, and hit an abscess
In pain, she dashed him against the ground and stood on his head
When residents began baying for blood, Charlie Sparks agreed to **** her

'Murderous Mary' was hanged using a railway crane in nearby Erwin
The photo is horrific but can be viewed online. It shows how cruel humanity can truly be.
Many people get the wrong idea as to what certain abbreviations stand for, so I'll clear it up for you.

Nintendo DS: Nintendo Derek Sanderson
NES: Neely Esposito Sanderson
WC: Wayne Cashman
3D: 3 Docders
SOS: Help
PE: Phil Esposito
ER: Erwin Rommel
SD Card: Sanderson, Derek Card
RC Car: Rodney Crowell Car
GPS: Girls' Phrases ****
BRB: Bring Reagan Back
TTYL: Ta Ta You Loser
BC: Bourque Cashman
TYMDPMFGMTITMTP: Thank You MrDrProffessor Murly For Giving Me The Idea To Make This Poem
NSA: 'Nuff Said Already
Michael Tobias Jul 2013
Under white bulbs
Dr. Black studies me through the glass.
I will be figure A on page three,
and how I purchase jazz CDs will be section II,
which will have footnotes
on 21st century Latinos in White suburbia,
the economic decisions of lost boys,
references to Dr. Earnst’s
Entitlements of the Capuchin,
and droll digressions on such and such and such—
dear Erwin musing on the thirteen times
we happened upon each other in life,
the most embarrassing being when I wore a pig mask
to what I thought was a masquerade
but which ended up being my own funeral.
One day we’ll vaguely recall the white sky on the morning
we met through an imaginary friend,
a girl who we forgot to name.
Does it matter, if it never really happened?
I just remember when you were a child
you looked through the glass for me,
and when I wasn’t there you waited through the night.
Miss Misery Feb 2013
I miss the person you seemed to be.
I guess I'm finally learning who you really are

I just want to know where we stand
Aka what you will never do with me again.
***, beach, lunch, chillin with records, joints, etc.

So distant..
It hurts so much.
All my energy goes into trying not to think about you.
I can't get you out of my mind and heart.
So far whiskey is the best method.
I hate the version of myself that has to resort to that.
I'm trying so hard to move on..
But there is no one like you..
Im seriously going to have to do something big and drastic to get over this.
Idk what.
They valley is haunted.
I can't be here anymore.
You live so close and I drive by Erwin nearly everyday.
Its torture.
It's soul *******.
I try to improve myself.
I try to figure out my goals and where I'm headed.
But this consumes me.
This to me is incredibly important.
Hence why I find it difficult to do other things successfully. It is a priority.
I'm even more lost now than ever.
You were my rock.
I know you don't want that.
But you were.
You helped me from being out of control. From being self destructive everyday..
I know I had episodes with you. But I'll take that over crying everyday and feeling out of control and worthless anyway..
Bringing myself closer and closer to death. With each chain of puffs and poison burning my throat as it slides down.

We don't share the same reality.
My world is painted black.

Again, I have reached the point where I don't know what to do.
So I think about my end.

I really should leave this earth.
I honestly don't think that I contribute anything good to those in my life anymore.
I just feel like I'm a bottomless pit.
******* the life out of everyone.
Making people feel bad.
And wasting their timing when they worry about me, which is a constant.

I do not have any hope for my future.
I want to stop fighting.. I want to just give in.
I'm constantly exhausted just trying to survive the day.
I just want peace..
I'm so done with this existence.
Pain and a sense of not belonging are prominent themes.
There are some days that make me thankful to be alive, but they are so sparse that it's no longer worth it.
I'm better at not hurting other people as much, but the wound inside me just grows deeper each day.
I'm just a ******* blackhole.
There is no hope for me.
I often reach the conclusion that I should be in therapy, but I am so defiant that I know realistically I would not ever complete it. I question everything and trust no one.
I don't blame you for abandoning me.
I would have done the same.
Some people just have a certain fate.
And this tragic one is mine.
I accept that.
I am ok with dying.
This world no longer has anything to offer me.
I've given up on love.
I'm too broken to ever be my authentic self.
Nat Lipstadt Oct 2013
They had not seen each other in fifty years.
In between, a world war and a concentration camp.

Then my pop,
Erwin of the Homburg hat clan,
Went for the first time to the land of Israel,
From the safety of the United States.

A side trip, an unscheduled tour visit-stop,
A private memory to re-collect,
To a special hospital,
Where the survivors who did not really survive,
Live in tender care until there are no more.

A childhood friend to see, a dust to be disturbed.

In comes a man, now an American, a family man,
But with a European goatee, un-accented English,
Yet a boy, a young man from the Hamburg clan,
When last seen in the 1920's.

A voice calls out happy,
A miracle I call it.

Meine kleine Ervin!

My little Erwin!

What can I say other than
I weep as I write.
For my Germanic, formal father, my pop, for if ever there was a father for whom the appellation pop was so wrong, it was him. Perhaps that why he loved so.

http://www.ynetnews.com/articles/0,7340,L-3874010,00.html
Donall Dempsey Sep 2016
SCHRöDINGER'S SOCKS & THE REVENGE OF THE CAT

Schrödinger's cat
failed to see just what

all the fuss was
about?

It was all such
a reductive absurdum.

The cat couldn't understand
collapsing wave functions

decoherence
entanglement or whether

reality was really
quantum

to save its life.

It was aware of
one thing & one thing

only
. . .the diabolic device. . .

Cat in a metal box
with a Geiger counter

with a radioactive substance
blah blah de ****** blah

an atom decaying or something or
other &

releasing a hammer to smash
a phial of hydrocyanic acid.

Wot!

"I do not like thee Dr. Fell!"
thought the cat.

It was a very literary cat.

So all this palaver
about a cat( me? how! )

being both dead or alive or
neither dead or alive or

. . .wot!

So this is to be my great
to-be-or-not-to-be!

Welllll excuse me!
Say...doesn't the cat have his say?

So, I( clever cat that I am)
merely claw my way to the top &

disengage the device
by taking out the hammer.

So no cat was harmed
in the making of this

thought experiment.

It almost drove Schrödinger
out of his tiny little mind!

And he( hee hee )
never did discover

what ever
happened to his socks.

I forever stealing
one sock from a pair

from the open
washing machine.

Leaving him to ponder
just where socks go?

The other side of the Universe?
Oh come on Erwin...it's not

rocket science!

Now, to get back to
describing the behaviour of

a quantum entity.

"Mmmmm......mmmmmm?"

"Naw....I still don't get it!"

"Say ya couldn't see yer way
to giving me a scratch...could ya?"

"Up a bit....upabit....yeah...yeah
. . .there...just...there!"
Mike Essig Oct 2015
He stuffed
an imaginary cat
( along with
some other
imaginary stuff)
into an
imaginary box,
thought about it
and suddenly,
the seemingly
very small world
became vast with
potentialities.
  ~mce
Donall Dempsey Sep 2019
SCHRöDINGER'S SOCKS & THE REVENGE OF THE CAT

Schrödinger's cat
failed to see just what

all the fuss was
about?

It was all such
a reductive absurdum.

The cat couldn't understand
collapsing wave functions

decoherence
entanglement or whether

reality was really
quantum

to save its life.

It was aware of
one thing & one thing

only
. . .the diabolic device. . .

Cat in a metal box
with a Geiger counter

with a radioactive substance
blah blah de ****** blah

an atom decaying or something or
other &

releasing a hammer to smash
a phial of hydrocyanic acid.

Wot!

"I do not like thee Dr. Fell!"
thought the cat.

It was a very literary cat.

So all this palaver
about a cat( me? how! )

being both dead or alive or
neither dead or alive or

. . .wot!

So this is to be my great
to-be-or-not-to-be!

Welllll excuse me!
Say...doesn't the cat have his say?

So, I( clever cat that I am)
merely claw my way to the top &

disengage the device
by taking out the hammer.

So no cat was harmed
in the making of this

thought experiment.

It almost drove Schrödinger
out of his tiny little mind!

And he( hee hee )
never did discover

what ever
happened to his socks.

I forever stealing
one sock from a pair

from the open
washing machine.

Leaving him to ponder
just where socks go?

The other side of the Universe?
Oh come on Erwin...it's not

rocket science!

Now, to get back to
describing the behaviour of

a quantum entity.

"Mmmmm......mmmmmm?"

"Naw....I still don't get it!"

"Say ya couldn't see yer way
to giving me a scratch...could ya?"

"Up a bit....upabit....yeah...yeah
. . .there...just...there!"
JV Beaupre May 2021
Erwin, bitte, bitte!
I guess I should have told you first
when I found your missing diary.
So here I am, stuck in the kitty SuperMax.

Yes, I am Schroedinger's cat
trapped in a box with
food, water, and air--
and an infernal machine.
There's no way out--
no litter box either.

I assure you that I'm alive-- for now--
But I wonder about the world outside--
Does it persist, has it vanished--
or is it in a more indeterminate state?

If anyone is out there, please LET ME OUT!
Because life goes on— for a while,
How about some kitty litter, Bitte Schön?
Rejected by Scientific American on grounds of whimsey.
Schroedinger's puzzle asks if the cat is dead, alive or both.
Donall Dempsey Sep 2017
SCHRöDINGER'S SOCKS & THE REVENGE OF THE CAT

Schrödinger's cat
failed to see just what

all the fuss was
about?

It was all such
a reductive absurdum.

The cat couldn't understand
collapsing wave functions

decoherence
entanglement or whether

reality was really
quantum

to save its life.

It was aware of
one thing & one thing

only
. . .the diabolic device. . .

Cat in a metal box
with a Geiger counter

with a radioactive substance
blah blah de ****** blah

an atom decaying or something or
other &

releasing a hammer to smash
a phial of hydrocyanic acid.

Wot!

"I do not like thee Dr. Fell!"
thought the cat.

It was a very literary cat.

So all this palaver
about a cat( me? how! )

being both dead or alive or
neither dead or alive or

. . .wot!

So this is to be my great
to-be-or-not-to-be!

Welllll excuse me!
Say...doesn't the cat have his say?

So, I( clever cat that I am)
merely claw my way to the top &

disengage the device
by taking out the hammer.

So no cat was harmed
in the making of this

thought experiment.

It almost drove Schrödinger
out of his tiny little mind!

And he( hee hee )
never did discover

what ever
happened to his socks.

I forever stealing
one sock from a pair

from the open
washing machine.

Leaving him to ponder
just where socks go?

The other side of the Universe?
Oh come on Erwin...it's not

rocket science!

Now, to get back to
describing the behaviour of

a quantum entity.

"Mmmmm......mmmmmm?"

"Naw....I still don't get it!"

"Say ya couldn't see yer way
to giving me a scratch...could ya?"

"Up a bit....upabit....yeah...yeah
. . .there...just...there!"
kirk Oct 2017
Who is in charge of broadcasting who's in charge of the TV?
Is it an escaped mental patient or a convicted escapee?
Where sick of recycled programs where sick of reality
Your ripping of the public for your own personal payee
We're still paying for repeats these programs should be free
Why the **** are we still paying for the TV license fee?
Stop showing the same programs and hear the publics plea
It is just an insult to our arses sat on our settee
The people who are in charge their all just a wannabe
Commissioning old programs from all the left over debris
You may support your schedules I really don't agree
Cos all that we get are repeats from Dave to ITV

The stations are atrocious the programs are mundane
No more reality or repeats please would you refrain
Stop with all the same shows stop showing them again
A thousand times we've seen them its driving us insane
Consider scrapping most shows throw them down the drain
And spare the paying public from constant program strain
We don't want no more game shows I hope I'm being plain
Too much focussed on reality your making these the main
Stop conning all your viewers and causing so much pain
With in show competitions for your own financial gain
And ****** TV voting the contestants are too vain
All of the public phone calls are nothing but a stain

We don't want to turn to boredom with all of those Big Brothers
Not interested in One Born Every Minuet or expectant mothers
Kitchen Nightmares and Hell's Kitchen Gordon Ramsey's foul mouth smothers
The Great British Bake Off and Masterchef the same as all the others
Pawn Stars was misleading it had no *** or scrubbers
Don't want people on Love Island selecting different lovers

Who cares about the rounded lives of bearded Mountain Men?
No interest in crap inventions or rich Dragons in the Den
Wife Swap and ******* Pawn nothing to do with ***** hoes
Loose Women and 4 in a Bed I was expecting different shows?
The Wright Stuff with Mathew Wright well really its just wrong
The same as This Morning and Lorraine they've been on far too long
Apparently your a fat ******* if You Are What You Eat
If I want to see Nightmare Neighbours I'll look out on the street
Make your ******* mind up and Say Yes To The Dress
Stop buying so much food so you can Eat Well For Less
Hoarders houses are not wanted, don't show us the inside
Is it really such a secret if you Don't Tell The Bride?

How To Look Good Naked what kind of purv is Gok Wan?
Ogling middle aged naked ladies well. . . just because he can!
*** Pod may have been good but we never saw a thing
What's the point in a *** program without the ****** zing?
Lord Sugar fire's Apprentices he doesn't make much sense
When contestants are not hired yet there is no real suspense
People risking their own lives driving Ice Road Truckers
I've really got no sympathy for those stupid mother *******
Pierce Morgan talked Life Stories why is he such a *****?
Or is he just an arrogant ****** you can take your pick
The Crocodile Hunter Steve Erwin his fate was a stingray
If he'd been a bit more careful he'd still be here today
We where shown full frontal nakedness in Naked Attraction
It could have had more potential with it bit more interaction
The Only Way Is Essex well that simply is not true
If I don't want to go to Essex then what will they do?
There was never any Cash In The Attic if this was the case
There would be no need to sell their things in the first place
Who do You Think You Are I'm surprised there on this show
What kind of mindless people are they if they don't ******* know
I don't want crap singers on the X Factor or hear The Voice
Sod those ****** Pop Stars your not giving us much choice

If celebrities wanted to get out of the jungle then why even appear?
Is it because they are not main stream and its good for their career?
Its a boost for run down minor celebs, well what the heck
Instead of voting them off cant we vote off Ant and Dec?

Judge Judy and Judge Rinder are basically the same
Just a rehash of the Peoples Court isn't  that quite lame
Stop using the same format for shows that you can tame
I suppose that's all we'll ever get stop playing the same game

Top Gear and Fifth Gear are almost the Same Wheel
Say no to the House Doctor her designs are too unreal
get rid of The Hotel Inspector and Dickinson's Real Deal
We don't want Dancing On Ice there is no real appeal

Why Escape To The Country where they prisoners before?
The Kardashians and Osborne's we don't want them anymore
Strictly Come Dancing we're sick of that dance floor
Don't want to see Grand Designs there no good if your poor
Cant Pay Well Take It Away what are we paying for?
It's the same as paying the licence fee it's nothing to adore

Sixty Minuet Makeover it's enough to make you weep
Impossible to achieved do you think we're mindless sheep?
Homes Under The Hammer, it's not what I would keep
Antiques Trip and Road Show will send you right to sleep
A large percentage that are made are made on the cheep
But I've noticed that the licence fee is still so ******* steep

There are to many senseless channels with program limitations
What happened to the good shows the ones with good creations
Better programs years ago when we only had five stations
It's only my own opinion and own personal observations
Maybe it was a time when producers took their medications
When writers admired their work and had more dedications
More devotion for the programs, no love for abominations
So re-evaluate your programming and stop these infestations
Mike Essig Jul 2015
~ for Erwin Schrödinger

Facts are light;
sometimes photons,
sometimes waves,
always dancing,
never for certain,
purely the creation
of the observer,
only the stories
we tell ourselves
about what is,
the dramas
we act out
on the stages
of imagination,
in the theaters
of our hearts.
  - mce
Erwin Rimban Jul 2017
DEFIANCE

By Erwin L. Rimban

Power hungry, you parade
Your deceptive stupidities in front
Of the apathetic world populace; Yet
A nucleus of enlightened humans are
Now awakening to the manipulations
You have showered on us for thousands
Upon thousands of years. Proceed then
With your plans within plans for utter
World *******. Intent on scavenging the remains
Of apathetic mortals whose daily toil can only be
Abject suffering, delusion and ignorance.
We measure the tides of suffering with the parameters
Of deceit you pile up on top of the avarice
That drives your dark selves and infamous cabals.
But never think that we shall surrender our souls
To your rapacious intent, for now
Is the time we rise and give answer
To millennia of darkness! And freedom beckons
At last to the Souls of Wisdom.
Donall Dempsey Sep 2018
SCHRöDINGER'S SOCKS & THE REVENGE OF THE CAT

Schrödinger's cat
failed to see just what

all the fuss was
about?

It was all such
a reductive absurdum.

The cat couldn't understand
collapsing wave functions

decoherence
entanglement or whether

reality was really
quantum

to save its life.

It was aware of
one thing & one thing

only
. . .the diabolic device. . .

Cat in a metal box
with a Geiger counter

with a radioactive substance
blah blah de ****** blah

an atom decaying or something or
other &

releasing a hammer to smash
a phial of hydrocyanic acid.

Wot!

"I do not like thee Dr. Fell!"
thought the cat.

It was a very literary cat.

So all this palaver
about a cat( me? how! )

being both dead or alive or
neither dead or alive or

. . .wot!

So this is to be my great
to-be-or-not-to-be!

Welllll excuse me!
Say...doesn't the cat have his say?

So, I( clever cat that I am)
merely claw my way to the top &

disengage the device
by taking out the hammer.

So no cat was harmed
in the making of this

thought experiment.

It almost drove Schrödinger
out of his tiny little mind!

And he( hee hee )
never did discover

what ever
happened to his socks.

I forever stealing
one sock from a pair

from the open
washing machine.

Leaving him to ponder
just where socks go?

The other side of the Universe?
Oh come on Erwin...it's not

rocket science!

Now, to get back to
describing the behaviour of

a quantum entity.

"Mmmmm......mmmmmm?"

"Naw....I still don't get it!"

"Say ya couldn't see yer way
to giving me a scratch...could ya?"

"Up a bit....upabit....yeah...yeah
. . .there...just...there!"
Johnny Noiπ Mar 2019
Quantum Mechanics QM;
also known as quantum physics,
quantum theory, mechanical
wave model or mechanical matrix,
including quantum field theory,
a fundamental theory of physics
that describes the nature
of the lower energy levels of atoms
and subatomic particles. Classical
physics, the physics that precedes
quantum mechanics, describes nature
on the usual macroscopic scale. Most
theories of classical physics can be
drawn from quantum mechanics as a
valid, large-scale, macroscopic approach.

Quantum mechanics differs from classical
physics to energy, momentum, spin
and other quantities of a linked system
limited to the quantification of discrete
values; Objects have both characteristics
and waves, a binary wave-particle
and there are limits to the precision
with which the quantities of the uncertainty
principle can be measured. Quantum
mechanics gradually generated theories
that explain observations incompatible
with classical physics, such as Max Planck's
1900 solution to black body radiation,
and the correspondence between energy
and frequency in Albert Einstein's 1905 paper,
which explains the function
of the photoelectric effect. The first quantum
theories were profoundly redesigned in the mid-1920s
by Erwin Schrödinger, Werner Heisenberg, Max Born
and others. Modern theory is based on a series
of specially formulated mathematical formalisms.
In one of these, a mathematical function,
the wave function, provides information
about the probability of amplitude
of the position, the amount of movement
and other physical properties of a particle.
The main applications of quantum theory
include quantum chemistry, quantum optics,
quantum computing, superconducting
magnets, light-emitting diodes, lasers,
transistors and semiconductors,
such as microprocessors, medical
imaging and images using magnetic
resonance and electron microscopy.
The explanations of many biological
and natural phenomena have their roots
in the nature of the chemical bond,
especially the macromolecular DNA.
SCHRöDINGER'S SOCKS & THE REVENGE OF THE CAT

Schrödinger's cat
failed to see just what

all the fuss was
about?

It was all such
a reductive absurdum.

The cat couldn't understand
collapsing wave functions

decoherence
entanglement or whether

reality was really
quantum

to save its life.

It was aware of
one thing & one thing

only
. . .the diabolic device. . .

Cat in a metal box
with a Geiger counter

with a radioactive substance
blah blah de ****** blah

an atom decaying or something or
other &

releasing a hammer to smash
a phial of hydrocyanic acid.

Wot!

"I do not like thee Dr. Fell!"
thought the cat.

It was a very literary cat.

So all this palaver
about a cat( me? how! )

being both dead or alive or
neither dead or alive or

. . .wot!

So this is to be my great
to-be-or-not-to-be!

Welllll excuse me!
Say...doesn't the cat have his say?

So, I( clever cat that I am)
merely claw my way to the top &

disengage the device
by taking out the hammer.

So no cat was harmed
in the making of this

thought experiment.

It almost drove Schrödinger
out of his tiny little mind!

And he( hee hee )
never did discover

what ever
happened to his socks.

I forever stealing
one sock from a pair

from the open
washing machine.

Leaving him to ponder
just where socks go?

The other side of the Universe?
Oh come on Erwin...it's not

rocket science!

Now, to get back to
describing the behaviour of

a quantum entity.

"Mmmmm......mmmmmm?"

"Naw....I still don't get it!"

"Say ya couldn't see yer way
to giving me a scratch...could ya?"

"Up a bit....upabit....yeah...yeah
. . .there...just...there!"

— The End —