Chubby Bellies

just what is the matter with matter that's dark
is it clandestine because it won't show it's face
but it seems to be everywhere that you look
especially if you look deep into space

the energy created is also quite dark
literally tearing gravity apart
I know this is really hard to explain
but won't you please have a look at my chart
  
if you look here at these many galaxy clusters
gravitational lensing is required to see
when you use the cosmic magnifying glass effect
there is a bulging middle to a large degree

more study is required they call it CLASH
cluster lensing and Supernova survey with Hubble
I gathered this info from space dot com
chubbie bellies creating this bubble

Morpheus aka Gomer LePoet

Somewhere,
I've lived you.
Enjoying
the lensing of solitude,
the breeze, trees, figures surrounding
the dark grey moisture-laden clouds;
All of these ingredients,
must've been tasted before--
For you to rinse the sweetness in them
Again.

Light labour
But labour still
To crystal the words
So they, so you
Are clear lattice
Seeking nothing for themselves
Just light.  

And your slow dance
If I can see and sing it
Balanced in the air

Just so.

Flecks of violet, patch-quilt  loofah skin of  sponge-green iris, gold dusted
Emerald  eyes... wet stones in flesh tone, parachute baskets; paratroop lids
Descend... thin paradigms slip ; adrift upon a Seam of Tears. A saline Sea - with
Glass floor; lensing starlight over mint pink trampolines
covered in tiny copper filings,

And two Black Pools that Expand.
Two Sunbathing Night Blossoms -

Dead center. Unmanned...

Her cheekbones encroach upon Cataracts of Vacancy.
Lipid lathes of Lethe ; lips departed... red zeppelins, moist and mute . pontoons
Plump and mindless. Bee stung -
Open.

Soft mimes, glide
Over bleach and stain; over -
bone white; glide
Over Nicotine sigils, hiding -
in off-white
Enamel...

like anonymous petroglyphs for Dentists.
or Rosetta Stones for a lethargic Tongue.



II


Theta-wave turbines, throw rods and spark nods ... as others speak.
She resembles a dream-catcher’s mitt.
Words hiss now, and solid mist, twist the tell o' gram.
Into Fable's Armada !

Fog.... fog rolls in...   She rolls in, Beneath  a New Between. of Chasms
Hazardous grammar spasms, stammering -
Deaf tones of Diction -
All This ....In the Good Ear.
An Ear Of Cornucopias Delete.... The Dry Cob
Of  Annulled
Speech. [ but Morphine ]

Maybe a half-dozen kernels of distinct cream ; velveteen vague...
Or vivid - pleats in pure radiation.
?
Perhaps,  varicose inanities are expiation enough to drown a Kraken ?  Maybe God Happens ?

Let Ampule be the Judge.  Let Pack Mules be Priests.

As Others speak, Our Lily,  decrypts languidly left of linear... dislodged -
from Lexicons ....with long Odds, Against...
She Relents, Relentlessly-  And Utterly

Utterly Regardless...

She aborts pregnant ( .... )
pauses.

All this Fog rolls in... Agnostic.
She Robs
The Cuckoo... She De-bones the Soup
with Disjoint Comments.
And Scuttles
The Broth.

She's all Starlings and Polaroids.... Savage Pinwheels  and Aurora Vandals.

She's  All Plasma...
And Rapture -
with No Handles ...

She's Both Ends ... Burning
NOooo Candle .

A Wee Atlas; Shouldering A Loss
Ever Since Her World  
Was  Dismantled ..  A  Burden ( ... )
Lily
Phantom
Shrugs  

And Random Drugs..Atlantis.

The nightfall smears a biding shade and plume
as Nyx complexed the clear diurnal day
and skews the stoic lensing out of gloom
alike the hearted Eros, wrought his sway.

How still the specks of frost on balm and reed
like stars arranged in view for crystal eyes,
and glazed upon the tips; a sweetened mead
which lovers strive in truthful, purple prize.

A sullen stratus coats the idle orb
succumbs the amber beams to patchy lure,
and from within uncertain skies absorb
a kindred duel; dreamers must endure.

Tonight, the morrow, all thereon to be
to ardors flux; at night is when to see.

Gravitational lensing
Brings forth so beautifully the thoughts,
the haphazard chaos
That is the Universe's entropy

While colors are distorted
Light is contorted
It somehow provides a deeper look
Into the unknown

****, space is cool

Root of all evil, starring lito rodriquez, on the marquee,
too quick to see--
ah, ai knows, lito is
the latino, a, non procreatorrerior-ole'
in sense 8,
the series
sense seven is this one
you sense something has not yet
sequentially
been true, but ever
was so now has come, and the trick
is knowing when
the game ends,
and
life in the realm of reasons to be
that have remained reasons to try
to be, succeed the wish
to itch, as you can imagine, a
hair shirt sin-def fed acolytes, c
students of lessoning the unlearnt…
the itch that is successfully scratched
static elect, yes amber shades of evening,
yellow lensing, shooter lense, see the point
focus, mortal mind best self,
taking matters in mind and making
mothers of others that wish, hope pray
ah, ai knows, lito is/
no spoilers/
only notice-t by the sorted few
who watch matrix four during its elite
HBOMAX thirty-one day, hook
to the reason for the season,
leveling, all creed need
to see the his, of the season for the eternal
effectuality of constant
entertainment, when other times

we gathered around fires, and told tales
we gathered on the way home.

The earth is never still
torrential momentum
can you feel it too?
The way the universe moves in pivots
on clockwork, centripetal lensing

Locked upon the surface, inert
Stagnant never stopping
Living in transitions
I am
Expeditious

If I were cast
into the void of nought
to sit in stillness
would Time shift
to a grinding halt?

Would the gears of reality
befall me
as I am consumed
into the fleeting rescendance?

Light-speed is dark
color blurs, and lines of stars
are not but imagery
when nothing can reach a mass
which tears itself from gravity
unmoving

If I were to melt
into time itself
becoming spaghettified
energetic, formless
would’st petrificatiON
arise belied to existence?

Could, then, I be
without me
without freeform, broken
penchant

Time shifts in days on
Ever standing in coagulant collision
Universal
Rot

Many dimensions intersect us
Poking through the perforations
Of the quantum flux

And soulbound to the collective
Is the suspended intervision

I am introspect, delicate derelict
A piece of self, its own
Unknown to space’s haste
A purer nothing

Then pop!
Come I, again, to being
To become undone by tunneling
Through infinitesimal
Again, herein
The fabrix of
what Matters