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Doom,
We walk towards thy gate,
side by side, with Destiny,
and despair...

Doom, your benevolence is great,
to let the children outside play;
Yet the Sun
must surely go.

Doom,
more than Death,
am I not doomed merry dreams?
or Merry Times?

Doom,
are you so bad,
as to rupture the rose
that sprouts on sacred soil?

I think not,
for as I look to thee,
you are speculated as a tangled knot,
and just simplified as a misery to be..

But who are we to change fate?
Less war and evil rage on with hate?
Then god might come lessened and late
and spiral us into an perpetual state?

Who are we to change the Earth
that is ever more patient and disputable
than our clustered minds
like musicals?

Who are we to undo hell
to unleash the thieves and liars fell
upon the sacred land of God
whence fair and innocence mindlessly trod?

Who are we to shape the Sun
so that it exists and is never undone?
To breathe the open-aired light of day
to fool our minds, to celebrate and sway?

We are but peasants, mindless, and few
that from which a starry void did send us through,
and so we were, and so we are, from dust to dust,
doom is then, doom is there, and alone it cannot rust!
Jaiya Star Aug 2013
Emerge from the caccoon that has held me so long,
Courage, howl at moon, flying soon in high noon sun,
I pull a rune one, its blank and for that i thank.

Listening, mystery mission,
glistening, crystal prism,
schism, wisdom,
White to spectrum, back to galactic light,
Impact the night, in this luminous universe,
watch me tune a verse to Fibonacci,
And spiral out about that viral style shout.
No doubt,
Spiral in, cycle in the tidal spin,
Light will dim then bright again.

The seed first, then the rebirth,
See her first as we nurse,
The sweet love i speak of,
Meet the peak of sky, die, fly high, be free,
And see the sea of we, feed the need of glee,
and do be do be do be FREE.
the rhythm of the poem is somewhat lost in translation to text. try reading it out loud, tune in feel it.
Jordan Frances Nov 2014
Seventeen.
I start doing homework at coffee shops and Applebee's
I cannot tolerate my father's *******
But for the first time in my life
I am able to revive myself from the frustration he fills me with.
Each time his biting comments pierce my skin I say:
"College eight months"
"College seven months"
"College six months..."
By telling myself that coming home has become optional
I am able to smile and gently whisper
"Yes, Dad."

Sixteen.
One of the two times I can remember compassion from my father.
A heartbroken me watched my grandpa deteriorate
Just ten days after I had entered recovery
From a bad bout of bulimia relapse.
Dad actually hugged me
Even cried with me
When grandfather died.
But for the other 360 days of the year that did not include that week
Even when my friend committed suicide
My father did not meet me with kindness.

Sixteen.
My battle with bulimia
Was mine to wage alone.
When my parents got the call
They were more worried about my wastefulness
Food isn't cheap, you know.
Daddy continued to bash my weight
And I continued to spiral downward
Until I decided I was worth more.

Sixteen.
Had I told you a boy had taken advantage of me
I would have just been a **** once again.
After all, I led him on
After all, my shirt was fairly tight
After all, my friends told me it was my fault.
I know you would have considered me blameworthy
I sure thought I was.

Fifteen.
One handful of pills
And a crimson message on my arm
Lands me in intensive therapy.
I sit there
Telling myself I am not like the other suicidal kids around here
I'm not ****** up
I just ****** up.
Sick of listening to people tell me why I did it
The most frequent was my experiences with molestation
Just because some pervert touched me
Doesn't mean I'd go off the deep end.

Fifteen.
You didn't care
About my drinking, my cutting, my anything
Until you heard my plans to end it all.
You called me a ****
When you found out I had slept with my ex.
You permeated **** culture by telling me not to discuss my abuse
With anyone but my counselor.
You didn't mean to,
But you did.

Fourteen.
The other time I remember compassion.
You heard that I had been horribly violated
By your cousin.
It curdled your blood
As well it should
And you told me we'd get through it.
Fortunately,
It was never yours to get through.
You tried your best to help me
But to no avail.

Fourteen.
Lost my virginity
With a strong chance of unwanted pregnancy
That was thankfully inaccurate.
Started drinking
Taught myself how to throw up
Tarnished your perfect image
Of Daddy's little girl.

Thirteen.
Middle school ends
But my battle with eating disorders
And my dysfunctional relationship with food
Gains speed.
My then boyfriend described my dietary patterns to you
Before he was scared to death of your rage for him.
Where are you Dad?

Twelve.

Eleven.
I cut myself for the first time
And obsessive thoughts about food began to litter my mind
Depression and anxiety
First showed their ugly faces this year.

Ten.

Nine.
You told me I was fat again
So I began storing things in my room
Whole bags of junk food
I would have miniature thanksgiving feasts
Because eating in front of you was horrifying.

Nine.
Got a phone call from my fourth grade teacher
Who was in earshot of me telling my friends I was fat
My mom cried that day
Although she has a lot to do with my self-image.
But still
Don't let her pick up your mess.

Eight.
Humiliated me in Wendy's
For not ordering a kid's item.
Children are like elephants
We really don't forget.

Seven.
He touched me
And I didn't know what to make of it.
I thought this was truly just a game
You could not have protected me, Dad
He is the one at fault
No one else is.

Six.

Five.
You told me for the first time
That eating a bagel would make me fatter.
The first time I remember being skinned with comments
About my weight.

Four.

Three.
My perfect sister was born
As she entered the world
I was suddenly no longer good
No longer skinny
No longer pretty.
She would become acceptable by society's standards
And I never would.

Two.

One.

Zero.
Do you ever wonder what your parents imagined for you
When your mother was pregnant?
I do
And I don't think they imagined
A counter culture, feminist
Resident fat girl.
I was defined before I was
And I redefined my expectations.
Krystal Alvarez Oct 2018
I never had a very tight grip on the difference between:


Fantasy

And...

******* Reality


Always merging the two into one disaster


The difference between night and day is no more than simply hiding the sun away.


Without you, my day will never be as bright


The stars will never live as long

The world will never spin as accurate

The bird will quickly forget its song


And my heart will never beat as perfect


You are my fantasy and can never be my reality.
Knowing this, I question my sanity


Refusing to admit

Denying how I feel

A downward spiral

This heart may never heal


Can you break something which is not whole?


Does that mean...

Do I love you?


After all..
..
You are my favorite
Olivia M Jackson Oct 2010
Suddenly I find myself tumbling up a spiral staircase
Unexpected deliberate actions
Never intended to travel to this place
Though paradisiacal, tears flow as I fight back the flood
Your voice breaks my silence
Words from your lips piercing, intrusive
Cut straight through to my heart
The levees break, the dam is loose
I cry not for inflicted pain
I cry for the long wait that has now ended
I cry for the many times I wanted this
I cry for the hope of gold and not pyrite
I beg for blindness to resist the temptation to lead me
The twists and turns
The figure eights that begin and end in the same location
To disperse and become straight roads in a long journey
One of hope and not hurt
Accelerating into elation
Surging towards togetherness...oneness
Intertwine
Intertwine
Intertwine...
© 2010 Olivia M. Jackson
No water nor tea can quench an inhuman thirst.
That which one cannot have
becomes the object of obsession.
Delusional desires spiral,
the soul caves in,
and all that remains
is this lesson you were given.
anonymous Jun 2018
Gasping my lungs turn to stone
“Breath!”
My throat closes in
“Just breath”
But i cant
My mind is spinning
My heart races
Im standing on solid ground
But it feels like im falling
And i keep falling
Down
Down
Down
A downward spiral my mind screams for everything to stop
But my mouth can not make a single noise
I grasp the air with my lungs
But i slip farther and farther
All i can hear is my mind breaking
Shutting down
All i feel is my heart beating
Blood rushing through my veins
The burning in my lungs
Desperatly begging for air
And I can not see
The room is spinning
And Nothing is real
Bryn Apr 2013
Tensions build,

Issues turn to tissues,

and you fold into your fears.

The calls turns to cries,

you were so happy

The downward scrawl of your note,

paralleling the downward spiral of

your life.

so full of potential

In physics class we learned to calculate the force of tension for a rope weighed down by a mass.

I got a 96% and a full scholarship to our dream school.

Working towards my PhD.

My thesis you ask?

"Predicting the force of tension for a rope weighed down by a mass."

But sadly

you just

can't



stop





gravity.
You'll be initiated,
when you are ready.

Life knows,
and the initiation rites
are waiting.

Where you are holding,
you will be broken.

Where you've lost heart,
you will be shaken.

Where you are careless,
you'll meet your neglect.

What you are averse to,
will be total and stark.

What you are attached to,
will be pried from your grips.

Ignorance will be
wrought with vision,
a burning,
to make you see.

You are loved so much
that you will be engulfed in
the flames
of loves fire,
in order to
ignite your own
hearts flames,
and fulfill loves destiny.
Alchemical change will ensue,
destroying you,
to make way for
new love.

Licked by some Hellish ordeal,
Ambivalence gives way to Engagement,
Rage engenders Clarity,
Anxiety becomes Inspiration,
Apathy roars into Feeling,
Melancholy imbues it's Depth,
Licked by some Heavenly delight.

Phoenixed, you'll fly,
the hero of your own journey,
wielding revelatory fire,
with great Wisdom
and Compassion,
a Gestalt,
anew.

The circle closes,
it is a spiral,
to the beginning,
of another
Circle.
M Feb 2014
Who is it that does not know of Hercules?
Tragic hero written in the stars
and of the stars to tangle his string
with that of Megara's. He watched the sunset
with twisted arm and muscled thigh
alone, his bride in the Underworld.
he thought he'd be strong enough to rescue her
maybe not- maybe the grasp of the ghosts
was too great- the cycle and spiral down, down,
down into the chasm, leaving Hercules
alone, once more. he couldn't save her,
not for all the trials in the world, even with a divine
parent who guides his hand, He can't weave
the strings in Hercule's favor, he watches the sunset
alone now; the moral of the story:
everything we love will die- we must learn to never
make our home in others, for we will be homesick forever.
mikev May 2015
follow me.
please. i have no friends.
i work go home and get tense.
please. talk to me.
i have no chance at survival
this downward spiral
under wave that's tidal
there's gotta be another way that's viral
just rhyme on stage and become an idol.
follow me. follow me.
i promise light and night
and flames and ice
and whatever you need to keep the harrowing shrieks at bay
[little do they know it's he who press play]
controversial contraception
better cover your mouth if ya get to guessing
what's coming next - never gonna happen
- even I can't do it.
Jennifer Marie Jan 2011
We almost had it, that
golden spider-web ending,
a halo hanging from dewy leaves.
You looked up and smiled at it, pointed,
marveled.

But it was me –
me who cut it down,
who reached up and yanked,
who watched the yarn unravel,
spiral,
fall.

It was my hand that scooped
damp twigs and dirt away,
and made a shallow grave,
and watched the halo flicker
and fade.

You stood, arms at your sides,
defenseless, or else hopeless
and watched my eulogy,
and saw my mud-stained face
cry, and did
nothing
at all.
New beginnings
are often disguised
as painful ends.
Sade LK Feb 2014
Things to think
But not so much to say.
Little fragments that scatter sparkling static
Of weightless notion
Across open miles of flatness.
Yellow prickles of dry dying grass
Stranded in a distant field,
And nobody cares.
Feel the tension in the small muscles of my forehead
Wrinkling and releasing,
Elastic concentrated pressure.
Things to feel,
But not so much to express.
Barren road of endless thought,
Hinting the glimmer of existence
Amongst the desolate air
Dense with nothingness.
Thin streams of clouds whisp around a burning sun,
And spiral their moisture through rays of contradiction.
But nobody notices.
Still the words don't come.
They build up in the gaseous acid of the atmosphere,
And offer no consolation to anyone.
The comfort of being is bitten and pricked
By the dull sensation of an imaginary threat,
But it isn't real.
And there is no one place to belong.
And nothing to say about that.
To no one.
Written June 1st, 2011
MC Nov 2016
I swear to god I'm sorry
My heart breaks to the sound of yours
I'll remember you in 2 months
I'll miss you in 20 years
I know it sounds as if I'm martyring myself
I know it doesn't matter that I shed a tear

You're more broken than I
But my dear, you'll repair stronger than I
Be a better person than I
Theres always a downward spiral
Until you hit the ground and put yourself back on your feet

I'll always love you
As much as you don't understand
You were my best friend, my lover, my confidant, my world, my future husband, my future father to my children
I'm sorry things ended this way
Eight years not wasted, but held dear
I'm sure you'll find another
Who will always cherish you
See your worth
I hope the best for you
It's what you deserve

He might not love me
He might not care that I long for him
But to sit there and pretend it's only you on my mind
Dear, it's such a sin

I'll be in the past
Wondering what could've been
What would've become of us
If I hadn't fallen for him
K Balachandran Apr 2012
Voluptuous curves of spiral galaxy,
Ring nebula's exposed areolas;
Hubble, companero of space ******,
*give me bliss, more cosmic ****.
Want a grand view of cosmic ****?  visit: heritage.stsci.edu/gallery/galindex.html
AM Sep 2014
i gravitate towards you
like a dusky desolate deposit of dirt
to its glimmering counterpart
of lapis lazuli, ridden with veins of gold

i reach and reach
to no avail
and i watch as you spin quickly away
stumbling and straightening before slipping into another stagnant spiral

how do i catch up to one
so quickly moving amongst the stars?
celestial bodies they may be
but i am a mere moon, reflecting light for your gaze

i can feel my muscles expanding and stretching
tendons taut with tension and
heart pounding and pounding away at the pavement
as i move forward and grasp outwards to you

but a mere millimeter of air becomes solid
and my knuckles crash against nothingness
instead of the warmth of your palm
which i'm not truly sure was even there to begin with

the darkness of this dying universe
is colder and more derelict than i have the capacity
to understand; and so i curl inwards
alone amongst pebbles and freely floating matter

because a moon without a planet
is simply an orb named vesta
or a goddess called hestia:
frequently forgotten and oft omitted
by those who claim to be scholars of myth, keepers of lore
and by extension, the very children she presided over
overseer of life and hearth nevermore.
John D Jan 2018
Head in a Spiral

Memories slowly fading
Reigning in fallacy
Dodging of reality
Silent in the night
Silent in the mind
Voices singing in my head
Leaving me lost and dead
Lingering for emotion and compassion
Losing my mind in utter blankness
Call to me and Tell me to
Bring me back to the good ol’ times
It is a replicable dialectic

that swirls in my mind

like a spiral of cigarette smoke

covering fluctuations

of diffused expanses

of transferable hallucinated images

relying on an artificial artificiality

to generate a reality

one that amplifies a calisthenics

of maximized reduction

in the blank vacuum of space

allows those sophistication’s

where there is a scrutiny

of exclusions

that may perhaps betray

the concepts of others

those correlatives

of our own creative interirority

where a mind may repeal a transgression

for it is breakfast in the time

of the Wizard Pig
kenye Jun 2016
Strawberry Moon
So Sweet
So delicate

Glowing
in the reflection
of the summer solistice

While an oak tree
drips sap
in the shape
of the ****** Mary
or maybe a ******

the cosmic ****
the goddess nectar

Whispering
We’re all made of star stuff
Won’t you journey to the center?

Spiral in and out 
let fear
be the reason you enter

You'll only stand in your own way
if you don’t come back around
and pull yourself together
Isn’t it strange that the same bloodlust
Which feeds the *** drive, drives
Deep into one’s Egyptian appetite,
Feeds deep, deep around the campfire at night,
Flames of carnal desire: and by carnal, I mean
Literally a yearning for rib-eye steaks,
Pork sirloin & Horse Meat.
Horse meatballs.
Horse sausage.
Horse stew.
Hi-** Silver & Trigger,
Fury & My Friend Flicka, &
Lest we forget:  The Famous Mr. Ed.
Oh Wilbur, I'm talking about Horse Cuisine!
(God Bless the French!)
Dartagnan & Brigitte, typical post war
Parisians with slim pickens
(No relation to the actor)
Survivors with little to choose from
Whatever scroungy edibles offered on the pushcart.
The one good thing about those years, you might ask?
It was a jubilee time, a precursor to
Lean Cuisine & Weight Watchers
Jenny Craig & Nutrisystem, & the lovely
Marie Osmond looking especially edible lately
Having dropped a dumb-bell 50 pounds, yet
Still crammed tightly in Spanx.
“Hey Marie, it’s good to be the King!”
I am Mel Brooks ******* you,
From behind, History of the World: Part I.
Marie is looking  tasty, n'est–ce pas?
France after WWI and WWII: a starving time,
Yet ironically a meat-eater's ****.
The French Cavalry, no longer needed,
It meant liquidation of the local Lipizzaners,
War-weary, would-be Man o’ Wars,
Secretariats, Seattle Slews, & California Chromes,
Shot twice in the head,
Carcasses hung & butchered.
But I digress. Or do I?
MEAT: gives the same ecstatic rush as ***,
Carnival Season, a pre-Lenten animal s’morgasm,
Identical, as nourishing as, perhaps as
A horse of a different color: ***?
SEE ME/FEEL ME: ****** cheeks, dripping jowls;
Shredded flesh betwixt my teeth—oh yes!
I confess that among my forebears,
(Not to be confused with The Three Bears,
Which would, of course, be a whole 'nother story)
Somewhere ‘long the spiral helix
Was a seriously carnivorous naked ape,
Some troglodyte Alley Oop, evolving over Time,
Into a reptilian, puffed-up, junior broker,
Impressing some ***** 21 year-old
In some Chichi Manhattan bistro, trumping
The waiter's or waitress’s shopworn query with:
******!
A fresh ****:
****** & still warm.
Jesibell arz Aug 2023
I used to be such a beautiful delicate Rose, now all I am is dead Rose that has been Wilting in the winds of disappointment/stress and solace.
    I used to look at myself in the mirror 🪞 and be happy with what I see, a beautiful girl with long spiral curly hair along with a nice slim figure and beautiful beautiful big brown coffee eyes. All I see now is a used to be beautiful girl that went from an 8 to a 4, her big brown eyes became smaller, her nice slim figure is thicker, and her long textured hair became nothing... Relationships, the 🌎, and people can damage you. Most importantly.. YOU can damage you. Putting others before your happiness will destroy you. Since I was a little girl I was putting people before me at all times; I wish someone would of taught me to love myself the way you're supposed.
    I used to be such a kind soul. Still am but my eyes and my glow are not as bright anymore. It has dimmed down to depression, anxiety, and introversion what makes me seem like a monster... The people I gave/give my heart to and my all to are the same people (including myself) that made me into the dead Rose I see today. I just want to see my glowing light shine nice and bright...
  🥀
     Like it used to.
Getting old dealing with things.
hayden Oct 2023
I can't stand myself. I'm scared that if I let myself think, I'll spiral so far down that I'll never come back up for air. I don't want to be crazy. I don't. I don't want visions from God. I don't want to see the cameras, check the locked door six more times, shake when the tires veer too close to the curb. I don't want to scream every time I see my reflection blink. I don't want to see my reflection blink. How do I convince myself that I still have time to build a life worth living when I lose myself every day in my delusions? Will I one day stop returning to reality? Will I still have time to build a life worth living if I don't? Do I live in the rot, let it consume me and wait to forget, or do I make something of myself, just to lose it the next time I have an episode? I lose hours talking to myself. I lose myself in the hours in between. And I'm terrified to lose everything. I religiously keep receipts and old packaging, mementos of every average Tuesday evening, because what if what if what if? What if I reach thirty and do not remember being twenty two? What if this is all I have to remember that I had a life before I lost it? What if I don't reach thirty and this collection of memories is the only thing left of me? Does a person's potential die when their mind begins to lie, or when they begin to believe it? I don't know if I have psychotic episodes anymore. It's more like episodes of lucidity to break up my average day of hiding from the NSA or my landlord or my neighbor or the ghosts or the devil or God or my mother or myself. Will I ever be a real person? If I build a life worth living, will I have my mind long enough to settle into it? I look to the future and there's a fog I can't quite see through. I'm afraid when I get there, that the past will look the same.
fear of losing my mind
(first thing ive written in years be gentle)
Sharleen Boaden Nov 2013
I lost my grip and down I slid
And felt no urge to stop
My scanty power enveloped my will
As I succumbed to my downward spiral

The inevitable pulled its peaceful ruse
I felt dead before I died
The blackened fiend sat with twisted smile
And watched me breathe into airlessness
Down down I slid into the well
Where no wishes or hope or light do dwell

And there at the bottom amongst the nothingness
Love scooped me up in gentle palm
And placed me amongst the shattered souls
Pieced together by second chances
And slowly there on tessellated plains
My Life began again
Nevermind Aug 2016
Missing those days
Back when seasons never changed
Every week was the same
In it's pattern I felt safe
Downward spiral
Sadness is viral
Unbound my skin from a leather back bible
Brushing shoulders with strangers
Embracing uncertain danger
Empty lighters and wire coat hangers
In love with the knowledge that this moment could be the end
There's so many people, yet none to call "friend"
Alone in this world
Yet everything's mine
Caught up in the storm
Unable to fly
Ian Beckett Nov 2012
A spiral galaxy of cream in my coffee dream
The dark caffeine universe my sunrise today
A bridge between waking and sleeping again
And the morning paper’s sadistic nightmare fun.

A milky way of latte mixes with banking binge
The espresso speed of the incredulous ****-up
Front-page stupefied, newly poor church-mice
Await another failed pension rescue bid today.

A drip, drip, drip of freshly brewed Colombian
Aroma comfort a promise for work-less workers
Catastrophe curious seriously seeking employ
Vladimirs and Estragons still waiting for Godot.
As Kenya lay on the floor at Club Envy with her lungs burning and filling up with blood from being shot by an unknown person she thought her life would never end like this.  Kenya's tears started to flow as she thought of the years she spent slithering with snakes.  Her job at the BNB Bank made it easy to launder money for the Black Crime Syndicate.  It was six years ago in the month of June that her life took a downward spiral.
Upset at the thought of being late for work Kenya floored the gas pedal.  As she passed by the slow moving drivers weaving in and out of traffic Kenya hoped she didn't get a ticket.  I just had to stay up late watching the marathon of Funny Man.  Now I got to race the clock and pray I don't get stopped the police thought Kenya as she sped past the other drivers.  As Kenya pulled into the BNB Bank's parking lot she checked the time.
"It's 7:55am.  I made it within five minutes" said Kenya.
Kenya got out of her car and walked through the bank's glass doors.  As time passed the employees of BNB got the bank ready for the public.  One of the three people that arrived at the time of opening was a new face.  Mmmmmm yummy thought Kenya as she walked up to the tall light skinned man.
"Hello sir how may I help you?" asked Kenya as she eyed the man up and down.
"My name is Malik Maxwell.  I would like to open a checking and a savings account" answered the tall light skinned man.
"Mr. Maxwell please follow me to my office" said Kenya.
As Kenya and Malik sat in Kenya's office filling out papers Kenya made it up in here mind that she would get to know Malik on a personal level.
After a day's work Kenya got behind the wheel of her BMW and started he drive home.  On her way home Kenya called her best friend Jewel Stonewall.
"Hello Jewel how are you?" asked Kenya with one hand on the steering wheel and the other hand holding her cellphone.
"I'm doing great Kenya.  What's up?" answered Jewel as she did one of her client's hair at her salon the Golden Scissors.
"Are we still on for Saturday?" asked Kenya.
With a confused look on her face Jewel asked
"Is the day Friday already?"
"Yeah girl what day did you think it was?" responded Kenya.
"To tell you the truth Kenya I thought the day was Thursday" said Jewel.
"No Jewel it's Friday.  I'm glad I have a friend who owns a hair salon" said Kenya.
"You better be thankful.  I'll talk with you later Kenya" said Jewel.
"Ok bye Jewel" said Kenya.
Kenya Ayanna Night was a plain looking black woman in her 30's who lived a very plain life.  She always looked forward to Saturday.  A day she would spend at the Golden Scissors getting her hair done and talking with Jewel Stonewall her childhood friend.

written by Keith Edward Baucum
Broderick Jun 2012
the clouds loom overhead
depleting masses of water,
slowly crying over the dusty ground.

there's a boy on a bridge,
watching a river swim beneath him
imagining himself swimming,
taking the loneliness away.

there's a girl lying on a porch swing,
watching the river swiftly pour down, carrying
the tears of heaven away
and hers.

he takes a walk from the bridge
and crosses two streets,
with a notebook in his hands,
spiral binding and blue cover.

she stands up and wants to
walk into town to see the library,
and grabs only a bottle
of fresh lemonade.

he makes it a mile,
sweat is replacing the rain, the crying above,
and he just wants to make it to
the forest at the end of the road.

she misses reading-
she hasn't read in quite some time,
no poem, no story, no venture,
nothing but the thoughts she owns.

he is thirsty, for anything,
as his throat dries and his legs weaken,
the sun now welcoming itself back out,
the warmth coming up.

a car passes on the left,
the wind behind a gentle friend for her,
and she notices a faint dot
about a mile away.

he sees this moving pixel, and grabs
for his glasses to see who it is-
what faint hair, reddened,
and what does she hold?

she is nearing him
and nervous, because now
she is a witness to his charming looks
and his saddened disposition.

he is worrying-
what should he say? to the girl
whose looks, even from a distance,
are catching him off guard.

she notices his sweat,
asks if he would like a drink
and he takes the bottle,
thanking her very kindly for her generosity.

he notices her eyes fall on the-
what, the seam of his shirt, the
veins of his arm,
or the writings in his hand?

she notices his tanned face,
the gentle muscles of his arms
seeming to force the liquid
inside of him.

he asks if she would
like to read the insides,
(his internal self, is to say)
and she would.

she asks him to sit on an old train-track post,
decaying alongside the road,
next to the river of a million tears,
suddenly becoming a thousand, ten, one, none.

and so was the afternoon of Saturday,
spent on a moist post lying parallel to a
rain-filled river,
and the warm air of summer
suddenly become a little more comforting.
Molecules of two elements, nitrogen and oxygen, comprise about 99 percent of the air. The remaining hoity toity 1% includes small amounts celestial seasoning luxurious riches as argon and carbon dioxide. (Other gases such as neon, helium, and methane are present in trace amounts.) Oxygen is the life-giving element in the air.

Earth's atmosphere is 78% nitrogen, 21% oxygen, 0.9% argon, and 0.03% carbon dioxide with very small percentages of other elements. Our atmosphere also contains water vapor. In addition, Earth's atmosphere contains traces of dust particles, pollen, plant grains and other solid particles.

Even when the air seems to be completely clear, it is full of atmospheric particles - invisible solid and semisolid bits of matter, including dust, smoke, pollen, spores, bacteria and viruses. Some atmospheric particles are so large that you will feel them if they strike you. However, particles this large rarely travel far before they fall to the ground. Finer particles may be carried many miles before settling during a lull in the wind, while still tinier specks may remain suspended in the air indefinitely. The finest particles are jostled this way and that by moving air molecules and drift with the slightest currents. Only rain and snow can wash them out of the atmosphere. These tiny particles are so small that scientists measure their dimensions in microns - a micron is about one 25-thousandth of an inch. They include pollen grains, whose diameters are sometimes less than 25 microns; bacteria, which range from about 2 to 30 microns across; individual virus particles, measuring a very small fraction of a micron; and carbon smoke particles, which may be as tiny as two hundredths of a micron.

Particles are frequently found in concentrations of more than a million per cubic inch of air. A human being's daily intake of air is about 450,000 cubic inches. This means that we inhale an astronomical numbers of foreign bodies. Particles larger than about 5 microns are generally filtered from the air in the nasal passages. Other large particles are caught by hairlike protuberances in the air passages leading to the lungs and are swept back toward the mouth. Most of the extremely fine particles that do reach the lungs are exhaled again - although some of this matter is deposited in the minute air sacs within the lungs. From these air sacs, particles may go into solution and pass through the lung walls into the bloodstream. If the material is toxic, harmful reactions may occur when it enters the blood. Fine particles retained in the lungs can cause permanent tissue damage, as with Coal workers' pneumoconiosis (black lung disease), caused by buildup of coal dust in the lungs, and with silicosis, which is caused by the buildup of silicon dust.

If the air is still, given sufficient time, all but the smallest airborne particles will settle to the ground under their own weight. Their rate of fall is closely proportional to particle size and density.
For example, vast amounts of fine volcanic ash were thrown into the air by the eruption of the Indonesian volcano Krakatoa, in 1883, and again by the Alaskan volcano Katmai, in 1912. In both instances, the finer dust reached the stratosphere and spread around the world high above the rains and storms that tend to cleanse the lower atmosphere. In fact, many years elapsed before these volcanic dusts entirely disappeared from the atmosphere. Since a two-micron dust particle may require about four years to fall 17 miles in the atmosphere, the lingering effect is not in the least surprising.
Dust storms are also prolific producers of airborne debris. Europe is sometimes showered with dust originating in the Sahara. In March 1901, for instance, an estimated total of two million tons of Sahara dust fell on North Africa and the Europe. Two years later, in February 1903, Britain received a deposit estimated at ten million tons. On many occasions, Sahara dust has fallen in muddy rain and reddish snow over much of southwestern Europe. During North America's droughts of the 1930s, dust storms blew ten million tons of dust at a time aloft in the heart of the continent. Occasionally, high winds swept the dust eastward 1800 miles to darken skies along the continent's Atlantic coast.

When the wind strikes the crest of an ocean wave, or a calm sea is agitated by rain or by air bubbles bursting at the surface, the finer droplets that enter the air quickly evaporate, leaving tiny salt crystals suspended in the air. Winds carry these salt crystals over all the Earth. Normally, airborne salt particles from the sea are less than a micron in diameter. It would take a million of them to weigh a pound.
Salt particles play an important part in weather processes because they are hygroscopic - they absorb water. Raindrops usually form around tiny particles that act as nuclei for condensation. Generally, each fog and cloud droplet also collects around a particle of some type at its center. Tiny crystals of sea salt make better condensation nuclei than other natural particles found in the air. Thus, salt particles in the air help make rain.

Dust from meteor showers may occasionally affect world rainfall. When the Earth encounters a swarm of meteors, those meteors that get to the upper reaches of the Earth's atmosphere are vaporized by heat from friction. The resulting debris is a fine smoke or powder. This fine dust then floats down into the cloud system of the lower atmosphere, where it can readily serve as nuclei around which ice crystals or raindrops can form. Increases in world rainfall come about a month after the Earth encounters meteor systems in space. The delay of a month allows sufficient time for the meteoric dust to fall through the upper atmosphere. Occasionally, large meteors leave visible trains of dust. Most often their trails disappear rapidly, but in a few witnessed cases a wake of dust has remained visible for an hour or so.
In one extreme instance-a great meteor that broke up in the sky over Siberia in 1908-the dust cloud traveled all the way around the world before it dissipated.

Large forest fires are among the more spectacular producers of foreign particles in the atmosphere.
Because these fires create violent updrafts, smoke particles are carried to great heights, and, being small, are spread over vast distances by high altitude winds. In the autumn of 1950, forest fires in Alberta, Canada produced smoke that drifted east over North America on the prevailing wind and crossed the North Atlantic, reaching Britain and continental Europe. The light-scattering properties of this dense smoke made the Sun look indigo and the Moon blue to observers in Scotland and other northern lands.

Wind-pollinated plants are the most prolific sources of foreign particles in the air. This is a problem for people with allergies.

Spores are closely related to pollens. Spores are the reproductive bodies of fungi, which include molds, yeasts, rusts, mildews, puffballs and mushrooms. Tiny spores are adrift everywhere in the air, even over the oceans. Although they resemble pollens in general appearance, spores are not fertilizing agents. Instead, they are like seeds, and give rise to new organisms wherever they take hold. Spores have been found as high as 14 miles in the air over the entire globe. Most fungi depend on the wind for spore dissemination. Once airborne, spores are carried easily by the slightest air currents.

Once, physicians were taught that infectious microorganisms quickly settle out of the air and die. Today, the droplets ejected, say, by a sneeze, are known to evaporate almost immediately, leaving whatever microorganisms they contain to drift through the air. Only a relatively small fraction of microorganism’s human beings breathe cause disease. In fact, most bacteria are actually helpful. Some, for example, convert atmospheric nitrogen into usable plant food. Pathogenic, or disease-producing, microorganisms, however, can be very dangerous. Most propagate by subdivision-each living cell splits into two cells. Each of the new cells then grows and divides again into two more cells. Provided with ideal conditions, populations multiply quickly. Fortunately microorganisms do not thrive very well in the air. Unless there is enough humidity in the air, many desiccate and die. Short exposure to the ultraviolet radiation of the Sun also kills most microorganisms. Low temperatures greatly decrease their activity, and elevated temperatures destroy them rapidly. Still, many microorganisms survive in the air, despite these hazards. Among the tiniest of airborne particles are viruses, which are on the borderline between living matter and lifeless chemical substances.

Earth is the only planet we know of that can support life. This is an amazing fact, considering that it is made out of the same matter as other planets in our solar system, was formed at the same time and through the same processes as every other planet, and gets its energy from the sun. To a universal traveler, Earth may seem to be a harmless little planet in the far reaches of one of billions of spiral galaxies in the universe. It has an average size star of average brightness and is joined by seven other planets — which support no known life forms — in its solar system. While this may be fitting for a passage from The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy, by Douglas Adams, in the grand scheme of the universe, it would be a fairly accurate description. However, Earth is a planet teeming with vitality and is home to billions of plants and animals that share a common evolutionary track. How and why did we get here? What processes had to take place for this to happen? And where do we go from here? The fact is, no one has been able to come close to knowing exactly what led to the origins of life, and we may never know. After 5 billion years of Earth’s formation and evolution, the evidence may have been lost. But scientists have made significant progress in understanding what chemical processes that may have led to the origins of life. There are many theories, but most have the same general perspective of how things came to be the way they are. Following is an account of life’s beginnings based on some of the leading research and theories related to the subject, and of course, fossil records dating back as far as 3.5 billion years ago.

The solar system was created from gas clouds and dust that remained from the Sun's formation some 6-7 billion years ago. This material contained only about .2% of the solar system's mass with the Sun holding the rest. Earth began to form over 4.6 billion years ago from the same cloud of gas (mostly hydrogen and helium) and interstellar dust that formed our sun, the rest of the solar system and even our galaxy. In fact, Earth is still forming and cooling from the galactic implosion that created the other stars and planetary systems in our galaxy. This process began about 13.6 billion years ago when the Milky Way Galaxy began to form. As our solar system began to come together, the sun formed within a cloud of dust and gas that continued to shrink in upon itself by its own gravitational forces. This caused it to undergo the fusion process and give off light, heat and other radiation. During this process, the remaining clouds of gas and dust that surrounded the sun began to form into smaller lumps called planetesimals, which eventually formed into the planets we know today.

A large number of small objects, called planetesimals, began to form around the Sun early in the formation of the solar system. These objects were the building blocks for the planets that exist today. The Earth went through a period of catastrophic and intense formation during its earliest beginnings 4.6-4.4 billion years ago. By 3.8 to 4.1 billion years ago, Earth had become a planet with an atmosphere (not like our atmosphere today) and an ocean. This period of Earth’s formation is referred to as the Precambrian Period. The Precambrian is divided into three parts: the Hadean, Archean and Proterozoic Periods.

The Earth formed under so much heat and pressure that it formed as a molten planet. For nearly the first billion years of formation (4.5 to 3.8 billion years ago) — called the Hadean Period (or hellish period) — Earth was bombarded continuously by the remnants of the dust and debris — like asteroids, meteors and comets — until it formed into a solid sphere, pulled into orbit around the sun and began to cool down. Earth's early atmosphere most likely resembled that of Jupiter's atmosphere, which contains hydrogen, helium, methane and ammonia, and is poisonous to humans. (Photo: NASA, from Voyager 1). As Earth began to take solid form, it had no free oxygen in its atmosphere. It was so hot that the water droplets in its atmosphere could not settle to form surface water or ice. Its first atmosphere was also so poisonous, comprised of helium and hydrogen, that nothing would have been able to survive.
Earth’s second atmosphere was formed mostly from the outgassing of such volatile compounds as water vapor, carbon monoxide, methane, ammonia, nitrogen, carbon dioxide, nitrogen, hydrochloric acid and sulfur produced by the constant volcanic eruptions that besieged the Earth. It had no free oxygen. About 4.1 billion years ago, the Earth’s surface — or crust — began to cool and stabilize, creating the solid surface with its rocky terrain. Clouds formed as the Earth began to cool, producing enormous volumes of rainwater that formed the oceans. For the next 1.3 billion years (3.8 to 2.5 billion years ago), the Archean Period, first life began to appear and the world’s land masses began to form. Earth’s initial life forms were bacteria, which could survive in the highly toxic atmosphere that existed during this time. Toward the end of the Archean Period and at the beginning of the Proterozoic Period, about 2.5 billion years ago, oxygen-forming photosynthesis began to occur. The first fossils were a type of blue-green algae that could photosynthesize.

Earth's atmosphere was first supplied by the gasses expelled from the massive volcanic eruptions of the Hadean Era. These gases were so poisonous, and the world was so hot, that nothing could survive. As the planet began to cool, its surface solidified as a rocky terrain, much like Mars' surface (center photo) and the oceans began to form as the water vapor condensed into rain. First life came from the oceans. Some of the most exciting events in Earth’s history and life occurred during this time, which spanned about two billion years until about 550 million years ago. The continents began to form and stabilize, creating the supercontinent Rodinia about 1.2 billion years ago. Although Rodinia is composed of some of the same land fragments as the more popular supercontinent, Pangea, they are two different supercontinents. Pangea formed some 225 million years ago and would evolve into the seven continents we know today. Free oxygen began to build up around the middle of the Proterozoic Period — around 1.8 billion years ago — and made way for the emergence of life as we know it today. This increased oxygen created conditions that would not allow most of the existing life to survive and thus made way for the more oxygen-dependent life forms. By the end of the Proterozoic Period, Earth was well along in its evolutionary processes leading to our current period, the Holocene Period,  or Anthropocene Period, also known as the Age of Man. Thus, about 525 million years ago, the Cambrian Period began. During this period, life “exploded,” developing almost all of the major groups of plants and animals in a relatively short time. It ended with the massive extinction of most of the existing species about 500 million years ago, making room for the future appearance and evolution of new plant and animal species. About 498 million years later — 2.2 million years ago — the first modern human species emerged.

Did You Know? The first modern human being was called **** habilis, the first of the **** genus. This species developed stone tools for use in daily life. **** habilis means “Handy Man.” He existed from about 2.2 to 1.5 million years ago. There are earlier species related to modern man, called hominids. The images show the skull shape and probable appearance of **** habilis.

The PreCambrian Period — accounts for about 90 percent of Earth’s history. It lasted for about four billion years until about 550 million years ago. About 70 percent of the world’s land masses were created in the Archean Era, between 3.8 and 2.5 million years ago. Rodinia, widely recognized as the first supercontinent, formed during the Proterozoic Era, about 2.5 billion years ago. It is believed that the oldest human family member was discovered in Ethiopia and lived 4.4 million years ago. It was named “Ardi,” short for Ardipithecus ramidus.
Patrick McCombs Jan 2011
I see into the landscape of your eyes
gazing upon an ancient civilization  marvelous and grand
Your eyes house large temples and wide open skies
Within your eyes, a people i can never understand.
You clutch to your spiral ringed notebook
The pages thick with brilliant thoughts
You speak like a babbling brook
I listen and try to connect the erratic dots
Our strings meet and tie
With each knot we fall further in love
We laugh we dance and we cry
A love as pure as a dove
JWL Nov 2013
Confusion
When you speak to me
Without utterance
*Clarity

— The End —