A Tribute

A king takes supper on a creaking deathbed. Featureless, winged creatures zoom by the dark condensed windows. Micro parasites build adobe headquarters in his soft tissue. Reaching for a plate,    he groans the terabyting howl that’s prescribed with chemotherapy. Qwerty and light from the drugs, he stares at the apple on his tray. Lost in its curves, he finds himself trapped in a safari of memories. A dream devolves upon his downtrodden mind….

The canopy is populated with twittering, angry birds. Pools of social blood attract flies to the googolplex degree. He stumbles through the dell, suspicious forest while a tremulous, fiery fox stalks behind his echoing footfalls. Pixar apes swing from trees chased by grisly, disney men with guns and trucks. A large eye tunes the darkness and blinks red upon an aging mountain lion in shadow’s brush.



The sony rays belight foliage in auspicious, plaid-orange hues. This amazon of experience plugs the wanderer into a hard drive of intelligence – a gateway to an encyclopedia of wikis and browsers, expanse enough for any backdrop rooftop audience to be faux-enthralled and eager. There are grumblings in the distance of another engine tromping the scope in search of something new and useless. A rumorous bat upsets the plagiarizing tide of the Atlantic Pea Sea. A snake slinks out of the blossoms clinging to the vines among a macintosh tree and bites the salty flier of the washboard night; cyber venom invades his veins.

The average, homeless, bounding, warrior awakens to find a cold supper on his lap and another syringe in his arm. His remaining gums support his teeth as they bite into the apple. He swallows, sighs, and rests his balding, crescent, once-handsome head on the white pillow.  The green fruit tumbles gently out of bed and mutely rolls to the floor.
With that, Steve Jobs is dead.

When CNN monotony breaks my heart,
children wail for candy at cash registers,
and traffic buzz replaces birdsong,
I flee to my garden to water and ****.

Sanctuary explodes in miniature chorales
soprano buds breaking through cellulose cradles
last waters from a thousand wilting blossoms
sing tenor at their organic wake above the loam
and endless pneumatic streams drip from leaf tips
as they always have and will.

A googolplex of minute carbon dramas occurs
melodious ballads echo relentlessly
like Buddha’s kalapas of soil and light
as pistil and stamen call the fat brown bees.

Equally marvelous are my hands'
deft fingers fueled by arterial rivers
lymph and blood on capillaric freeways
with off-ramps for neighborhoods of dividing cells
built into my DNA,
this machine of loving grace.

Even the leather of my gloves
once lived thick on a bull eating grass
that waved on a prairie where the soil  
let the sun in
drank the rain
and that meticulous ensemble
plays still for the wolf and the eagle.

With the last seed sewn
I sit transfixed by the garden gate
knowing every blossom in every random patch
will arise and pass away like the pointless TV news
and I hear the machinery of this impermanence
crackling like spring frost
when sprouts push through
and Gaia’s eternal trumpets ring.

Its mystical fog rolls in and out like the tide;
calm and restful or merciless and destructive,
this sea can be a blessing to man,
but it has also hardened many hearts.

In this serene state I can comprehend how long the universe is,
the time involved in eternity,
and the grains of sand in a googolplex,
serenity unmatched.

The windswept countenance is breath taking,
a stepping stone to the heavens,
the exhilarating panorama exalts me,
then humbles me because of its magnificent beauty.
It demands reverence for it is glorious.

For the longest time, words were like bricks in the mouth. Weighing down, suffocating and harmful.
For the shortest time, words flowed like so many rivers headed home through drying basins, rising rivers, past gargantuan sheets of ice and through the town one may call home.
                                                                ­                   Sealed shut.
                                                           ­                The words build again.
Thoughts, memories, ideas, the resentful wave of hiemal turquoise waters crashing upon the furrowed brow of inconsequence. To tell truths would be dignified, one isn't always able to choose such an ideology. Often an ideology is ****** upon the undeserved. Perhaps through social conditioning or other such time honoured institutions. History should not and yet does often repeat itself.

Although each generation is different,
as is every single person that,
does walk this planet,
has walked this planet,
and ever will walk this fine planet.  
                                                       ­                Cosmos over Chaos
For those that choose to read, the world is yours, the plants, the animals, every Microorganism, each and every grain of sand that litters the shorelines like a googolplex of fine jewels for an undecided amount of monarchs, rulers of lands and emperors of distant planets that in no way resemble our own. For you are such people.
For those that choose to love, amour you shall receive, every kiss that screams of desire, every touch of heavenly organs, every man woman and child that has ever felt the imperious desire to hold another body closer than is physically possible.  In this dimension at least. Every time one embraces another you shall feel love. You shall experience me as I experience you. Worlds apart, countries apart, towns, villages, houses apart, metres apart... atoms apart.
                                                       You will be of one ever tender consciousness.
                                                  ­                  The truest of all consciousness.
                                                  ­                                         One.

Diamond planets on layaway
Stellar corpses thrown away
Purple ribbons of DNA
And silver spoons in mouth

It may look white, but it's blue and red
A race of oranges on a narrow thread
While satellites mess with our heads
The sun dyes our hair

They're selling space to the googolplex kids
With golden grahams of fake eyelids
While android hands place their bids
Ignoring their embedded denial

Fifth dimension sure looks green
Entropy has gone obscene
My solar twin must be quite mean
But there's not much we can do

If you're blue
You're bleeding through
If you're blue
I'm bleeding too

dark and darker:“my old friend”

another crack’d faint appearing, in the destruction of us,
this one of the unconscious variety, added to the angle of
my leaning tower

how we used to compete in a morning ritual of who loves
the other more, a morning game as I departed, employing
terms of trillions, googolplex, infinity and ridiculous measures
such as the Big Bang; the game now over a year or more,
the text messages just  another long forgot: and I no longer
write love poems in buses and taxis

the cracks lengthen and laugh; a mocking screech of me
and my capabilities of denying, refusing ‘that’ conversation,
one day the noise will make my hands gone from eye coverings of see-no-evil to hearing it too loud, too clarity clear

but then she slips up and wishe me a goodbye, calling me out
“my old friend”

incision unconscious
for she cannot recollect it
two days later

but I can

it is a huge cut upon my chest
where open heart surgery is
currently underway

my ny heart is a transplant candidate
its replacement, a hardy artificial utility that has no capability
to ferry love beyond mine own borders

she only cut my hair but did not stop there

and reminds me again of:
the pain dance of wreck and ruin, destruction and death


https://hellopoetry.com/poem/1518614/f-f-1stmost/

If you take a standard deck of cards
And you shuffle that deck
And you look at the order that deck is in,
You have just seen a combination of those cards never before seen in the universe.
The amount of ways to shuffle a deck of cards is 8.06e67
That is an 8 with 67 more numbers after it
That number is astronomical
There are more ways to shuffle a deck of 52 cards,
Then there are seconds in the age of the universe (13.8 Billion Years)
There are more ways to shuffle a deck of cards
Then there are grains of sand on all the planets in our galaxy.

This number is difficult to comprehend. Let's scale it back

1000 seconds, is 16 and a half minutes.
10,000 seconds is 2.7 hours.
100,000 seconds is a little over a day
1,000,000 seconds is 11 and a half days

Let's make a jump

1,000,000,000 seconds is 32 years
Let that sink in

That number is huge. 32 years is a long time
But that number is tiny.

1 Trillion seconds is 321 millennium.

Funny how big things can get.
Think about this next number
A Googol.
A googol is a 1 followed by 100 zeros. We can do better.

A Googolplex is a 1 followed by a googol of zeros
That is 10^10^100

The point of these numbers is not to show how big things can get
But it's about how small we actually are.
We as humans think we are the leaders of the universe
We think we know most of what there is.
96% of the universe is unexplored.
Hell, 95% of the Earths oceans are unexplored.
We really don't know very much

We've got a long way to go.

Eternal
or
nearly so.
We see
what we
see.
Nothing more.
We
speculate
on the
rest.
Vastness
beyond
our world,
unfathomable.
Universe to
multiverse
to eternal,
or nearly so.
Universes
budding
one from
another.
Never ending!
How long?
First one,
how long
ago?
Googolplex years,
perhaps
more.
Essentially
“Alway was,
always
will be”

Incomprehensible.
Beyond
human scale.
Look deep,
deep
into time.
Through
the beginning,
through
the darkly
orb to
another time.
Then again,
again and
then
again again.
Limitless.
Scales
incomprehensible.
Human limitations
legion.
Scurrying
around
self righteous
so important.
Insignificant.
Dead realities,
empty voids
one after the
next.
Deep time
frozen time.
Ultimate voids.
Limitless voids.
Googolplex
voids.
Endless before.
Endless to be.
Human scale.
No such
thing.
Don’t blink!

Generation.
Universe
generation.
Universe to
multiverse.
Always was,
always
will be.
Black hole
formation
generation
one to
the next.
Countless
spring up
one
from the
other.
Never ending
sequence.
Once begun
infinite
generation.
Always
will be.
Always
generating.
How long?
how old?
The process,
when
did it
start?
How
did it
start?
Generations
of events.
Countless
rabbit holes.
One to the
next.
Looking back,
how far?
Googolplex
far?
Infinitely far?
Nearly so.
Beyond
conception
far.
Rendering
how, moot.
Always was.
Always will be.