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"quarks" poems
Gliding deftly along the city street rolling quick and constantly onward to some unknown scene, some backward park in the nighttime smoke curling from these parted lips, moist and inviting calling me somewhere I've never seen. New day, new night new feelings, rage in delight fill me with your hilarious entropy, knock my quarks into the next century, will you please? Now you're smoking the pipe and all at once you are free between you and me, this smoke is thicker and sticks like glue, wispy and dreamy and the world spins and calls Toltec telephone company can't pay me for all those calls collected and rendered obsolete Sun god dead as that silly calendar meme Amaterasu, and Imma tell you these ladies in the picnic table buried alive for boxed lunch and god's brunch Jesus ******* Christ and a indelible roster of good guys, to which we all must strive to live and die behind, never moving forward chasing our tails like a sick dog under the jasmine runner between the decades-old tanbark imported from overseas dead trees dead canine and oh isn't it just divine? You see it, pretty lady. I can see it hiding behind your eyes the things you don't tell the others because you're afraid if they found out, you'd be crucified. Well honey I hate to inform, With KGB efficiency that these love-a-dumbs aint Methuselah, they'll be dead! long before your flood of tears tears me from the land ballistas me across the great expanse to some strange Ararat of the eastern seaboard, or maybe wash me deep along the 80 into the desert sands and tiles on a leaky cell phone screen desperately trying to dial home on low battery, realizing all this was one big deferred dream, baking in the sun and shriveling oh well, back to the grindstone-- all those lies plucked your nose, gotta cut it back to size, 'else your soul it'll outgrow Don't worry honey bee It hasn't happened to me, and We know with calcuable mathematical truth that it'll never happen to you.
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Jun 26, 2018
Jun 26, 2018 at 9:50 PM UTC
Roller Derby
Gliding deftly along the city street rolling quick and constantly onward to some unknown scene, some backward park in the nighttime smoke curling from these parted lips, moist and inviting calling me somewhere I've never seen. New day, new night new feelings, rage in delight fill me with your hilarious entropy, knock my quarks into the next century, will you please? Now you're smoking the pipe and all at once you are free between you and me, this smoke is thicker and sticks like glue, wispy and dreamy and the world spins and calls Toltec telephone company can't pay me for all those calls collected and rendered obsolete Sun god dead as that silly calendar meme Amaterasu, and Imma tell you these ladies in the picnic table buried alive for boxed lunch and god's brunch Jesus ******* Christ and a indelible roster of good guys, to which we all must strive to live and die behind, never moving forward chasing our tails like a sick dog under the jasmine runner between the decades-old tanbark imported from overseas dead trees dead canine and oh isn't it just divine? You see it, pretty lady. I can see it hiding behind your eyes the things you don't tell the others because you're afraid if they found out, you'd be crucified. Well honey I hate to inform, With KGB efficiency that these love-a-dumbs aint Methuselah, they'll be dead! long before your flood of tears tears me from the land ballistas me across the great expanse to some strange Ararat of the eastern seaboard, or maybe wash me deep along the 80 into the desert sands and tiles on a leaky cell phone screen desperately trying to dial home on low battery, realizing all this was one big deferred dream, baking in the sun and shriveling oh well, back to the grindstone-- all those lies plucked your nose, gotta cut it back to size, 'else your soul it'll outgrow Don't worry honey bee It hasn't happened to me, and We know with calcuable mathematical truth that it'll never happen to you.
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59
the planets. the peaches. pruned. picked. for the reaches. the centuries. a second to the eternities. you can have it. say laugh when. you hear the jazz note. the voice of all that i spoke. the saxophone. like dialing digits of truth. on the telephone. come on. say one and two. up and down. the diversity in one single crown. upon the ears of sound. it's the heart's listening device. toss it like rice. at a wedding. human genes get paired up. and twisted. so simple. it comes in flavors of licorice. red and black. off and on. check the track. when the needle skips. we find all these differences. let me bring it back. for diversity. zeroes and ones. spread the spectrum. across high and low frequencies. it's so easy. let the record speak. can you stay on beat. the principles of the high. the sincerity of the meek. whatever lies between. is one or the other. blended across the centuries. and all mothers. give birth to the last. man to the first. follow that. discussion of high low. mid ranges get blown. saxophone pace the flow. get pricked by the tweeters. soul from the bass feeders. save the appetite. for the words that i write. and then speak. you you. not me. splitting hairs. atoms. quarks. and light. beams. like a smile. across a broad spectrum. either off. always on. high low. then get gone.
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Oct 3, 2014
Oct 3, 2014 at 10:18 PM UTC
diversity
And I will make sure that if anything were to happen, It would do little to affect you. It's not everyday You find a goose that lays eggs With speckled jewels and golden flakes The world is full of incongruity And there's no doubt about the certainty That something bad may happen, And we don't want that, do we? So listen carefully. The world is a giant carboniferous spicule Hanging in a nest of hydroxic gas and particulae Spinning within the gaps of a blackened dome Of limitless space and out of control There is no telling what way it will go There is no prediction that has fortold Any number of moments in this tumbling slumber Between the darkest hell and the further horizon I so deftly advise you with all certification To please place your bets and fly by echolocation Your eyes will mislead, your ears will displease And there is no way we can refund divine warranties This machinery has a half life of quarks And energies that vibrate into other orbits Trajectories Retaining the spin and informative piece Of that golden goose let loose amongst the canopy Of dark, off into neverland, straight on Till new morning, Beyond the stars So please good sir don't migrate away from me I have so much to give and such pain I have seen Those that fatten their goose with **** till it quacks, Those ravenous souls who ate their gift for a snack, And when life finally cuts them down to their last, They will howl and yowl and pray that goose back. This is a game, Have a good little laugh Don't waste your time or your money On a daffy Aflack Policy that keeps you policed to the earth, No way to fly, Stuck in the dirt. That is no way to live in the dream, That is no way to let death trickle in So please, pretty please, make sure you have coverages And a couple extra dollars in the pocket of those jeans Wander freely, you great big atomic bomb, you. Do catastrophic damages and I'll pay your dues. Ride the road coast to coast, Fly a bird 'round the world, Take a truck till you're home, Find a love you can trust. Find a place where your egg And your legs seek nowhere else Lay down those roots, It's Eden or bust.
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Jul 18, 2018
Jul 18, 2018 at 1:03 PM UTC
I will insure your golden goose for $100k/$300k respectively
And I will make sure that if anything were to happen, It would do little to affect you. It's not everyday You find a goose that lays eggs With speckled jewels and golden flakes The world is full of incongruity And there's no doubt about the certainty That something bad may happen, And we don't want that, do we? So listen carefully. The world is a giant carboniferous spicule Hanging in a nest of hydroxic gas and particulae Spinning within the gaps of a blackened dome Of limitless space and out of control There is no telling what way it will go There is no prediction that has fortold Any number of moments in this tumbling slumber Between the darkest hell and the further horizon I so deftly advise you with all certification To please place your bets and fly by echolocation Your eyes will mislead, your ears will displease And there is no way we can refund divine warranties This machinery has a half life of quarks And energies that vibrate into other orbits Trajectories Retaining the spin and informative piece Of that golden goose let loose amongst the canopy Of dark, off into neverland, straight on Till new morning, Beyond the stars So please good sir don't migrate away from me I have so much to give and such pain I have seen Those that fatten their goose with **** till it quacks, Those ravenous souls who ate their gift for a snack, And when life finally cuts them down to their last, They will howl and yowl and pray that goose back. This is a game, Have a good little laugh Don't waste your time or your money On a daffy Aflack Policy that keeps you policed to the earth, No way to fly, Stuck in the dirt. That is no way to live in the dream, That is no way to let death trickle in So please, pretty please, make sure you have coverages And a couple extra dollars in the pocket of those jeans Wander freely, you great big atomic bomb, you. Do catastrophic damages and I'll pay your dues. Ride the road coast to coast, Fly a bird 'round the world, Take a truck till you're home, Find a love you can trust. Find a place where your egg And your legs seek nowhere else Lay down those roots, It's Eden or bust.
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59
I'm just a miserable bunch of quantum field excitations. A bag of bags of quarks. And so's my truck. I was entangled with a gal, but things went South. We're still ensnared— unmeasured and immeasurable with no divorce. Dark energy, dark matter, dark thoughts-- I'll go to the dark side and jump in a black hole. That'll teach you,  bit....   [loss of signal]
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Apr 18, 2016
Apr 18, 2016 at 4:57 PM UTC
A Quantum Entanglement Revenge
I'm a simple electron. And, although I have my quarks, It's usually a persona I don, Pretending I enjoy meaningless talks. See, I was once in a pair, With a fellow electron. And, although it was difficult to bear, The laws of physics ultimately won. The closer we got, The more we repelled. When she was ionised, it hurt a lot, She left, regardless of how much I held. She soon paired with another, Leaving me to start a bond. It was my emotions I tried to smother, Of myself, I was certainly not fond. For a while my thoughts were scattered, My emotions being forced up and down. But none of that really mattered, As I soon met another who would invert my frown. You see, she was a blinding photon, And when we met, she certainly did excite me... And, just like my friend the boson, I hope you don't take this lightly. She perked me up a couple of energy levels, Until she pulled me out of my shell. Now, together, we're quantum rebels, I'm a simple electron, and this is the story I tell.
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Mar 11, 2015
Mar 11, 2015 at 1:49 AM UTC
Quantum Love
the mathematical statement in fluid mechanics that, for a fluid passing through a tube in a steady flow, the mass flowing through any section of the tube in a unit of time is constant instantaneous our love defined, a fluid mechanic in the realm of ethereal, where unlimited immeasurable undefinable mass time flow sweat pulse anger forgive caress kind quantifiable terms of our equation unique in this poem no waxing poetic, excellent pure licked lips are quantums and quarks visualized though invisible the flow constant per unit of time from initial good morning kiss to intemperate indulgent good night conclusions submitted here for your analytical digression importuned the square root of the continuity equation's solution is .......
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Feb 14, 2015
Feb 14, 2015 at 9:24 AM UTC
continuity equation {a fluid mechanics love poem}
The Standard Model is full of sticky, quirky Quarks, perky little Fermions, and the Boson Higgs, the reigning King of Mass of towering might; who, by spontaneously falling off in any old direction, gives ad hoc Masses to nearly all, and to all a birthright. And for all normal matter in creation, the Boson Higgs is the physicist's salvation. Alas, we could have learned more, but a Weasel ate through the Collider core.
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May 15, 2016
May 15, 2016 at 4:33 PM UTC
The Boson Higgs
Existential exercise --In & Out-- Eternal ebb and flow, the Catalyst of the ages Revolving and funneling Precipitating and materializing Quarks and photons into Histories and futures and Laughs and lies
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Oct 6, 2014
Oct 6, 2014 at 3:15 AM UTC
Breath
Under, over, between, against, something Needful things and quarks Infinite infinity endlessly remaining vacuous vacant and brimming. Everything everywhere evolving eternally recent past and the here and now still reveals it's non existence. Event horizon is nothing nowhere
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Jan 27, 2016
Jan 27, 2016 at 5:11 PM UTC
Universe acrostic
Not too distant beach tree sways in distance Mandala Rorschach blot patterns dance like celebrating Salish drum circle There's a hallow college sound of crime show to my left Bickering with the occasional crush of, **** my job is stressful." A sleeping armadillo composed of quarks reflective within a drop of water Fallen from the bottom-bulged North 49 canteen A foot and 3/4ths away the snow-white generic of a ***** coffee mug formerly host to a Tetley green stands silent Reminiscent of the eternal stillness of a mountain range Fibonacci's name rings inexplicably from tilting branches And I can't help but wonder if I would be grasping his hand in grasping a branch. 19 years alive and I can't help asking if I've grown-up too fast Or simply grown into myself. I feel old young and somewhere indescribable most of the time and it's funny I cannot even fathom the length of 22 years. A deflated balloon yellow like trend pants or sunrise sits like dejected missile No longer screaming towards Gaza No longer screaming. A Holiday Inn Express pen sits with a ready-call number Part of its mustang flame If its quality of penmanship has any parallel to hotel service Perhaps I'll stick with hostels.
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Nov 29, 2012
Nov 29, 2012 at 2:34 PM UTC
Shoe Jiggles
Nostalgia and memories Hope and reveries Love and peace Tears and craving-for-remedies All bonded together like quarks. The undying dream of mine To be flawlessly contented Is overflowing from my spines Ah I want contentment to be mine! Today, I find my happiness in nature In the serenity of seashore In the scenic stature In the golden green of pasture In the classic scent of roses The nature with its appealing scenery Tickles a sense to smile at the thrill A vibe of peace; nature contentment Really becomes a fulfilling feast to end my lament All hail to Lord who creates this nature remedy And makes my soul breathe sturdy!
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Dec 29, 2018
Dec 29, 2018 at 8:58 AM UTC
Nature Remedy
There's this empty feeling deep inside I feel in you I can confide You were always there for me when I was in need When I was with you I couldn't feel my heart bleed Even though the pain and loneliness was still there You showed me how to just not care For so long now we have been apart I'm feeling empty and that's just the start Soon I'll feel the loneliness and the pain I need you like flowers need rain Sure we had our problems as most do There were moments when I even hated you It'll be different this time I know we can work After all ever relationship has its quarks So how about it, what do you say I need you to drive the pain and loneliness away Take my hand and don't let me go It'll be our little secret no one will ever know
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May 23, 2013
May 23, 2013 at 2:10 PM UTC
Dear Addiction
Mesons, quarks, neutrinos, too Drawn inexorably Into eternity To a finite point Called singularity; Rushing, streaming Toward one juncture, To a destination With unknown structure. Swirling, speeding Into the abyss, Reason, logic Cease to exist. Space and time Merge in disarray, Matter altered too, No night, no day. Warped, transmuted Realities, Become twisted, melded Finalities. Inconceivable dimensions Reign supreme, Nature’s laws violated To extreme. Crossing the event horizon, No turning back, Into the precipice, Down a void of black; Facing the vortex, Light gasps in disbelief, A terminal journey starts Without relief. Stars and galaxies Give a sigh As they spiral in And begin to die. One day we too Will meet this fate; The only questions are The place and date.
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Mar 13, 2010
Mar 13, 2010 at 8:10 PM UTC
Black Hole
Numerous number systems beyond the real: complex numbers, octonions, omnions which can eat whole black       holes. It's axiomatic that your personal history, preferences, how you feel account for nothing at all. $30 buys a flock of chickens for a needy family (International Rescue       Committee) $29 gets a girl a school uniform (CARE), for $300 you can stock a fish       pond (Heifer International) $69 can start a female entrepreneur in the sewing business (Mercy       Corps) $5 will buy a bed net that protects a family from mosquitoes (Against       Malaria) 20th century experiments demonstrated that electrical charge is       quantized; that is, it comes in multiples of individual small units called the elementary charge, e,       approximately equal to 1.602 x 10-19 coulombs (except for particles called quarks which have       charges that are multiples of 1/3e). Why has the experimentalism of the avant-garde, which has failed in       the novel, succeeded in poetry? Because poetry is always experimental; while the novel, on       the contrary, by its nature, cannot be . . . which is to say that experimentalism is synonymous       with poetry, and that applied to the novel, it leads simply to the substitution of the novel with       poetry. --Alberto Moravia Man made the town, Fibonacci inflated zero to be the wheel around which the universe turns and language is the soul walking and talking quietly or going angrily to war. "Counting is in its very essence magical, if any human practice is at all.       For numbers are things no one has ever seen or heard or touched."       As are words. Joan Didion thought the scariest stanza in all of poetry begins Row, row, row your boat gently down the stream. The elements, the material penumbra, irresolvable for the mortal, readily dissolve in words and numbers.
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Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 4:08 PM UTC
The Scariest Stanza in All of Poetry
Numerous number systems beyond the real: complex numbers, octonions, omnions which can eat whole black       holes. It's axiomatic that your personal history, preferences, how you feel account for nothing at all. $30 buys a flock of chickens for a needy family (International Rescue       Committee) $29 gets a girl a school uniform (CARE), for $300 you can stock a fish       pond (Heifer International) $69 can start a female entrepreneur in the sewing business (Mercy       Corps) $5 will buy a bed net that protects a family from mosquitoes (Against       Malaria) 20th century experiments demonstrated that electrical charge is       quantized; that is, it comes in multiples of individual small units called the elementary charge, e,       approximately equal to 1.602 x 10-19 coulombs (except for particles called quarks which have       charges that are multiples of 1/3e). Why has the experimentalism of the avant-garde, which has failed in       the novel, succeeded in poetry? Because poetry is always experimental; while the novel, on       the contrary, by its nature, cannot be . . . which is to say that experimentalism is synonymous       with poetry, and that applied to the novel, it leads simply to the substitution of the novel with       poetry. --Alberto Moravia Man made the town, Fibonacci inflated zero to be the wheel around which the universe turns and language is the soul walking and talking quietly or going angrily to war. "Counting is in its very essence magical, if any human practice is at all.       For numbers are things no one has ever seen or heard or touched."       As are words. Joan Didion thought the scariest stanza in all of poetry begins Row, row, row your boat gently down the stream. The elements, the material penumbra, irresolvable for the mortal, readily dissolve in words and numbers.
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38
i hope, i try to hope --to believe-- believe me, i try to trust in trust i think i feel, or think or know there isn't any code that satisfies though maybe there's an uber-uber-ultra-meta code beyond what even codes can mean? meh. i enjoy the hypothetical, Paris in a bottle, fairness for all sentient beings, faith in nothing comprehensible, an English teapot circles Jove from afar or all that's uncontrollable, for some all-purpose good to decorate the brackish, ocean truth. and uncertain science is another case, mistrusting all, testing daring thoughts with razor sight, to sharpen speech and challenge all to flex the truth into a fitness ground on which to stand, objective stern and method doubt to peer and scan the detail bare, denude minutiae into ever smaller parts, expanse of raw and empty space attuned, to vibrant nothingness rebound muons, gluons, tauons, quarks and bosons --Higgs the boon for popular appeal, to bridge or monumentalize the science-mystic gap appall the ghosts that Galileo keeps for company i enjoy the fantasy, dragons in a flask, perfect love for all, dancing in the dark in joy regardless of the shutter thicken dust
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Feb 26, 2013
Feb 26, 2013 at 12:39 AM UTC
trust?
punto / contrappunto (patty m /nat) (on the why of messaging, on the Underground HP) none can fly,                          all can fly except in words,                   in deeds, indeed, yet others turn                      those who believe turn lead into gold,                       golden faerie dreams real, penciled in the salvation     hints inked upon the skin of the host, the blessing       are the blessings of the host, of solving great puzzles.      deeds of salvation solutions. Yet unbeknownst for many.  known to all its jiggling all the quarks,      the clashing of the neutrons spinning electrons that          within all of our protein protons affect many,                             effected upon each, invisible all is hidden.            where all was hidden, now visible the message that isn't             let our acts speak ever louder transmitted,                             realized, holds no power, yet it             a time for action remains a black screen            for each message, now an action     in the catacombs                      in the clarity of daylight waiting, waiting there,            no longer waiting, millions of little pieces            each action a deed when finally viewed                the summation total                                                    grows gargantuan                                funneling radiation                                      from the sun. Climbing roofs,                       to the streets leaping sliding down drainpipes       knocking to open all doors to the street,                             filling the stadiums & squares I'll wait with you,                   no laggards, all in attendence                                                       **they will come,                                          poet after poet,                                     spreading the word,                               words to deeds, each of us                            a messenger and a conductor,                             orchestrating the symphony                                         of revelation.**               Patty m.                                                       Nat
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Jun 9, 2017
Jun 9, 2017 at 11:50 AM UTC
punto/contrappunto (patty m/nat)
punto / contrappunto (patty m /nat) (on the why of messaging, on the Underground HP) none can fly,                          all can fly except in words,                   in deeds, indeed, yet others turn                      those who believe turn lead into gold,                       golden faerie dreams real, penciled in the salvation     hints inked upon the skin of the host, the blessing       are the blessings of the host, of solving great puzzles.      deeds of salvation solutions. Yet unbeknownst for many.  known to all its jiggling all the quarks,      the clashing of the neutrons spinning electrons that          within all of our protein protons affect many,                             effected upon each, invisible all is hidden.            where all was hidden, now visible the message that isn't             let our acts speak ever louder transmitted,                             realized, holds no power, yet it             a time for action remains a black screen            for each message, now an action     in the catacombs                      in the clarity of daylight waiting, waiting there,            no longer waiting, millions of little pieces            each action a deed when finally viewed                the summation total                                                    grows gargantuan                                funneling radiation                                      from the sun. Climbing roofs,                       to the streets leaping sliding down drainpipes       knocking to open all doors to the street,                             filling the stadiums & squares I'll wait with you,                   no laggards, all in attendence                                                       **they will come,                                          poet after poet,                                     spreading the word,                               words to deeds, each of us                            a messenger and a conductor,                             orchestrating the symphony                                         of revelation.**               Patty m.                                                       Nat
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37
Alabaster Archipelagos Benevolent Beauty Beaming Constructive Contradictive Creative Contemplations Dante's Darling Dances Deliberating Denominatives Effervescent Escapisms Endearingly Emerge Elusive Edens   Fantastic Flamboyant ******** Flamed Fabulous Fiery Flickerings Gorgeous Garden Gim'memores Gaudied Garnishing Gasps Heavenly Hues Humming Heart's Harmonies Immortaly Impregnated Inspired Ideals Jessamin Jargon Jacuzzi Jams Know-how Knacking Knurls Light-spirited Lovers Merge Magnificent Naked Nocturno Nights Omnipresent Ousia Over Odeons Palpitations Perfect Peaks Pi Paws Quintessential Quality Quarrels Question Quarks Quietness Rododendron's Richameters Rescued Raw Reeling Ruby Realms Sentient Syllabic Sapfo's Splendidly Spirited Semantics Turning Turner's Timeless Timeless Twinklings Unified Undulatory Unsolved Unicorns Velvety Venice Voyages Wanton Wantings Xsylophone Xsantiphas Yearnin' Yuki's Yen Zed's Zealous Zen-it-hall Zeppelins
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Aug 16, 2015
Aug 16, 2015 at 9:26 AM UTC
A to Be is Why to Zed ~ An Alabaster's Alphabet
Awake. Rise to meet The day that greets you. Do not rise to meet The day you hope for Or the day you fear. The world is millions of Quarks and neutrinos Passing through our bodies each day. The world is protons and electrons Spinning in perpetuity and decaying. The world is atoms and valance bands Bonding into molecules and cells Building organs and tissue. The world is people and plants and animals Feeding on each other to survive another day In city streets and freeways And states and nations And continents and oceans Under an atmosphere By a moon In one solar system Of one galaxy Of a universe that has hundreds of billions of them. And space. Most of all space. Empty and marvelous. Relax. There is time. Time to greet the day. Not the day you hope for Or the day you fear But the day that is.
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Sep 22, 2012
Sep 22, 2012 at 3:33 AM UTC
This Day
Merging Quantums, Quarks and Quarks, Watch Vii Paint Pristine Pictures, It's never Equivocation, How Peripheral..., Ain't it Quaint?
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Apr 18, 2018
Apr 18, 2018 at 5:40 PM UTC
Speak Into Existence
The night reveals more than just the stars And moons and worlds and Milky Way bars For the dark matter as a backdrop to the cosmos Will one day rip its space-time fleece But when and where, you’ll never know Stars are like flowers and warrant no rebirth From the gaseous remnants light years from Earth For accretion pulls me in like your nebula cries At the event horizon of a black hole ***** That gladly consumes my coy little lies Watch them all burn and fail, once fiery ***** And consummate a lifespan for no reason at all Churning in a chaotic standstill of time Those supernova dreams and aspirations Ultimately useless, but in all ways, sublime Why do they exist and makes them die? From the quantum quarks to the red giant eyes I am searching for answers in an ignorant space On a planet revolving on separate realities Revolving on a path with a polluted trace We sit in circles round an astral plane Without questioning logic and something to gain But like a star’s supernova, I’m ready to burst Return from space and find our sun mid-stellar explosion Eager to stand up and feel it first
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Apr 30, 2011
Apr 30, 2011 at 7:25 PM UTC
Supernova Remnant
I love you, Wildly, silently, Imitating it's idly, Displaying my affection quietly. Timid, I am, of course. Enjoying our discourse. And everything you are, I'm so heavenly immersed - Yes, in your quirky quarks from quasars, Running its benevolent course. Still, inside, I thirst. To let you know, I'm yours. Lost in a loving serge. . . With quarks from the hottest starburst.
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Nov 20, 2015
Nov 20, 2015 at 12:50 AM UTC
What I Mean to Say
Aardvarks and Applesnarks, filling in between the quarks. Scratching and scraping behind the door. Shuffling and snuffling all across the floor. I hear them tapping, hear them scraping, wonder where they've gone a traipsing. Aardvarks on the move, Applesnarks in the groove. Looking like land sharks after the ants, Make sure you don't get one up your pants.
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Feb 11, 2011
Feb 11, 2011 at 4:25 AM UTC
Tap, tap, tapping at the Door
imagine all the cells that form to join in your sensation all the stars that blew your bits together for proper procreation being born with every breath and reaching death through exhalation-- i simply can't exist without you nor you without i, and of this we can be sure that (though the sureness of my i obscures the many in us all[ mere words to ***** for thoughts we cope with] )it will rumble beneath and explode at the surface to delayed surprise of just reprise (mistaking inflation as progress) that libations of dogmas won't change a thing: when you look at the fibers in the fabric of being (spun finely by spiders invisibly swift) and if our knowledge were but a fly we'd see ourselves trapped by its infinite web, both victim to its trap and servant to its host (though this is the nature of matters sticking close[ especially light years away]) just as the lattice of language roots deep inside double-helix libraries unimaginably tall filled with books authored by curious protons, excited electrons and fleeting photons, composed of sentences by snarky quarks and gluons lying in -eate groups with unseen companions (read between the lines) working in union to fashion a sum greater than summation could do-- an alchemical-calculus of fractal fluidity, finding contexts for novelty to sing songs like Earth (though just a planet in other eyes) to give conscious rise within the cosmic playground embodied by us, but not encompassed by us; rather extended through us as curiosity mirrored.
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Sep 13, 2012
Sep 13, 2012 at 2:37 AM UTC
mirrored
imagine all the cells that form to join in your sensation all the stars that blew your bits together for proper procreation being born with every breath and reaching death through exhalation-- i simply can't exist without you nor you without i, and of this we can be sure that (though the sureness of my i obscures the many in us all[ mere words to ***** for thoughts we cope with] )it will rumble beneath and explode at the surface to delayed surprise of just reprise (mistaking inflation as progress) that libations of dogmas won't change a thing: when you look at the fibers in the fabric of being (spun finely by spiders invisibly swift) and if our knowledge were but a fly we'd see ourselves trapped by its infinite web, both victim to its trap and servant to its host (though this is the nature of matters sticking close[ especially light years away]) just as the lattice of language roots deep inside double-helix libraries unimaginably tall filled with books authored by curious protons, excited electrons and fleeting photons, composed of sentences by snarky quarks and gluons lying in -eate groups with unseen companions (read between the lines) working in union to fashion a sum greater than summation could do-- an alchemical-calculus of fractal fluidity, finding contexts for novelty to sing songs like Earth (though just a planet in other eyes) to give conscious rise within the cosmic playground embodied by us, but not encompassed by us; rather extended through us as curiosity mirrored.
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Atoms skitter to the center In the square dance of all matter; Quarks should rotate once around, Keeping us on earth firm-bound. Swing your partner far and wide, Perihelion's kept astride, And the strings of matter String along the boson's heart. Now come together; smatter, scatter; Atom-smashers do not matter, For this dance of matter Truly is a dance of higher art, Matter curtsys; and there's gravity Fills in each slight curving cavity- From above, you'll notice first It all starts from just one burst- So the particles keep on dancing, Midnight comes, and still they're prancing; Whirling, somersaulting like they never Dared to dance before; Keep on watching, as the clocks hands Travel once more past the grandstand; We're transfixed since matter never Let us ever see this door. We're the eyes and ears that dare To watch this tantric ballet, bared; Entanglement seduces; there's no other place to be- Bow to your partner in this deadly quantum duel of rivalry.
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Jul 18, 2010
Jul 18, 2010 at 3:03 PM UTC
Entanglement
All that will remain is bones and rotting meat Toss it in a cheap wicker box for worms to eat Topped just with wild flowers and no cement Plant a weeping willow instead of a monument It can do the weeping, please don't you cry There is a chance that I'll be busy when I die For if I am wrong and there is life after this I have plans with whom I'll dine and reminisce I'll be dining with Oscar Wilde and Caravaggio Cocktails and conversation with Kant and Plato Then with Bellini, Verdi and Rossini I'll take a Show An interval tipple and discourse with Rousseau An after party with Bakunin and Proudhon Whisky and blues with Howlin Wolf til I'm gone I shall breakfast the next day with Tz'u Hsi, Homer and Malcolm X And take morning coffee with Gandhi and Marc Bolan from T.Rex At noon a spicy ****** Mary with Mary Queen of Scots, Freddie Mercury, Lou Reed, Picasso and lots of tequila shots Lunch that day with Saladin, Karl and Groucho Marx Then smoke a pipe with Newton whilst discussing quarks Afternoon tea with Queen Victoria, Kipling and Colin Ward Followed by a game of Tafl with a viking on a giant board Dress for flamenco with Carmen Amaya (then dress the blisters)   Then pre-dinner drinks paid for by Geronimo and the Bronte sisters So you see, if I'm wrong And we actually move along A fascinating after life awaits me Yeah, when I'm gone from here There'll be plenty gin and beer Cucumber sandwich's and tea If you wonder what I'm doing Give your watch a quick viewing Then just check this poem and you'll see
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Aug 9, 2014
Aug 9, 2014 at 8:56 AM UTC
When I die
All that will remain is bones and rotting meat Toss it in a cheap wicker box for worms to eat Topped just with wild flowers and no cement Plant a weeping willow instead of a monument It can do the weeping, please don't you cry There is a chance that I'll be busy when I die For if I am wrong and there is life after this I have plans with whom I'll dine and reminisce I'll be dining with Oscar Wilde and Caravaggio Cocktails and conversation with Kant and Plato Then with Bellini, Verdi and Rossini I'll take a Show An interval tipple and discourse with Rousseau An after party with Bakunin and Proudhon Whisky and blues with Howlin Wolf til I'm gone I shall breakfast the next day with Tz'u Hsi, Homer and Malcolm X And take morning coffee with Gandhi and Marc Bolan from T.Rex At noon a spicy ****** Mary with Mary Queen of Scots, Freddie Mercury, Lou Reed, Picasso and lots of tequila shots Lunch that day with Saladin, Karl and Groucho Marx Then smoke a pipe with Newton whilst discussing quarks Afternoon tea with Queen Victoria, Kipling and Colin Ward Followed by a game of Tafl with a viking on a giant board Dress for flamenco with Carmen Amaya (then dress the blisters)   Then pre-dinner drinks paid for by Geronimo and the Bronte sisters So you see, if I'm wrong And we actually move along A fascinating after life awaits me Yeah, when I'm gone from here There'll be plenty gin and beer Cucumber sandwich's and tea If you wonder what I'm doing Give your watch a quick viewing Then just check this poem and you'll see
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