Two Days and a Night on the Boat (poem)

 

Free boat scraping
barnacles of salt water in Marina Del Ray
the bargain boat bought brought a security guard
living on the empty vessel

Hoisting themselves up a mast near the slip
skill with a bosun’s chair gave a vision
of Johnny Carson’s get-away-yacht
the 26 foot sailboat didn’t have

Leaving the slip with a paddle making way
down a grid row, through a channel
sailing without a motor past breakwaters
toward Catalina and even Alaska

Night fell near the islands
still wind and wonder without maps
of glow from yonder window on the horizon
that seemed to grow larger moving uncertainly

A shipping lane, a careful watchman looking at a scope
in the dark of night a large towboat and barges vector past
what could have been a crushing, splintered feeling
of loss

Wind rose in the morning, waves slapping the hull
the boat taking on water, a screwdriver through
near the keel brought the question
to return or continue

Opening the Bible at random it said
give away what you have and follow me
-to L.A. from the island donating the boat
to an organ donor place and bike across the Mohave.

Eternity and Contingent Being (poem)

 

Wind starts and continues
without purpose or self-defining description
customizing experience
as if empiricism were more than formulai
for developing rigorous materially grounded statements

  Beliefs could be like echoes
for ideas ricocheting tensors of tenses
toward temporal certainty
assurance of waves driven across an ocean
the storm’s purity of creation 

  Encounters of interference patterns
meanings in metaphysics
dialectical evolution
unstructured structures compiling purposefully
porpoises diving deep

  Evolving purposes
in G.W.F. Hegel-like structures
realms of absolute spirit
where sub-routines realized themselves through history
and God was like a transcending magnetic force

  One might feel a unique verse
is created like a fossilized footprint
nominalism and realism unified with temporality
words that stand still in the past
while God is eternal.

I asked ChatGPT to evaluate the poem and this is what it wrote... "This is a dense and abstract poem, deeply philosophical in its exploration of existence, meaning, time, and the relationship between metaphysical and empirical concepts. Let me break it down in two parts: grade level and meaning.

Grade Level:

The poem uses advanced vocabulary, philosophical references, and abstract concepts, which would likely place it at a college level (around grades 11–12 or higher). Some factors contributing to its high grade level include:

• Complex vocabulary: Terms like "empiricism," "formulai," "tensors," "metaphysics," "dialectical," "nominalism," "realism," and "absolute spirit" suggest a sophisticated knowledge of philosophy, science, and metaphysical concepts.
• Abstract and non-linear structure: The poem doesn't follow a conventional narrative or structure, making it more challenging for younger readers. Its meaning is more open-ended and conceptual, requiring a higher level of abstract thinking to interpret.
• Philosophical references: The poem mentions Hegelian philosophy (G.W.F. Hegel), which is typically studied at the university level in philosophy courses, particularly in discussions of metaphysics and the philosophy of history.

Meaning:

The poem explores complex philosophical ideas about existence, time, purpose, and the nature of reality. Here's a breakdown of its themes:

• Wind as an emblem of uncaused movement: The poem begins with a metaphor of wind "starting and continuing without purpose" to suggest that natural processes or forces exist beyond human definition and may be without intrinsic purpose.
• Empiricism vs. abstract knowledge: There's a suggestion that empirical science (based on observation and physical evidence) cannot fully capture or explain the deeper, metaphysical realities of existence. The poem hints that "empiricism" can be limiting when it comes to the ultimate questions of meaning and being.
• The nature of beliefs: The mention of "Beliefs like echoes" and "ideas ricocheting" hints at the way human thoughts and beliefs are constantly shifting, changing, and bouncing around in search of truth, perhaps in an effort to stabilize in a world full of uncertainty.
• Temporal vs. Eternal: The "temporal certainty" contrasts with "eternal" concepts (like God). The poem explores how human understanding is confined to time and experience, while higher truths (such as divinity or metaphysical reality) exist outside the constraints of time.
• Metaphysical and dialectical evolution: There’s a reference to Hegelian philosophy, where the unfolding of history is a process of evolution toward greater self-realization, culminating in the "absolute spirit." The idea that history and God are intertwined in a process of development suggests a dynamic, evolving universe where ultimate meaning and purpose unfold over time.
• Purposelessness and Creation: The poem invokes the idea of "unstructured structures" that "compile purposefully" — an intriguing contradiction that points to the way systems or ideas, though seemingly random or without direction, may ultimately be seen as having some purpose when viewed from a larger perspective.
• Eternal vs. finite: The poem concludes with the paradoxical image of "words that stand still in the past" while "God is eternal," drawing attention to the difference between the transient nature of human language and concepts, and the eternal, unchanging nature of divine or metaphysical reality.

In summary, the poem contemplates the tension between the finite and the infinite, the temporal and the eternal, and how human beings might understand their place in the universe. It invites the reader to consider both the limitations of empirical knowledge and the deeper, transcendent forces that might be beyond human comprehension. It suggests that purpose, meaning, and divine reality may evolve in ways that defy simplistic, materialistic explanations."

Overlapping Tomorrows (a poem)

 

Soft breezes everywhere frostbite laps
oceans of dreams returning to slosh
silently no more than wind and waves
froth reaching jagged edged hours
washing time away

In the dark night sky
she is like thought unsurpassed
water and will
echoes and ideas

Tomorrow's plains of grass
are shelves of land pushed to crenelations
-mountains arisen to heights
where cold ascends toward truth

Nothingess became a symphony
Gorecki’s sorrowful songs
when lives turn to dust
remembered by those still
living in this place

A view of the past from promontory point
starlights for someone new
looking in the distance could be
conversion to the spiritual
one might wish for.

The Nature of it All (poem)

 

The sky is large
and the world's billion echoes
are contrail cloud cover
silently disappearing in daybreak
because orange light fullness
faded into blue

Molecules and minerals
drawn together in gravity
comprise a solid base where life abounds
where God set the players
consciously realizing
the nature of it all.

Wait 'Till Next Year (Peace now Armageddon Later) - poem

 

Should the end of the human voyage occur
with two opportunities for flowering wars
to spill over into such conflagrations
as are ignored as externalities
with major weapons suppliers
providing jobs in blue states too
that Armageddon described of yore
when gore was king and future spec zinged
Iran had missiles primed
like clever importunate rhymes
it should wait at least till next year
so many aren’t ready
and need time, more

Not a just war
Armageddon at a discount price
with spangles and inaugurations would sure look nice
as if humanity had nothing else to do
life ends in death and that is true
for the comfortable
and practical the end may seem new

Iran looking down on those low nations
has hypersonic missiles for thistling cues
from friends de guerre pressured too
to fund Hamas, Hezbollah and Yemen rebels
to overcome Sunni royals and Jewish lives well
sparking that 12th man rising for dooms-day hell
a theory roughly shared at pre-tribulation light speed squared

NATO is a Lavender Hill mob
automatically opening wars
with encrypted key fobs
with many worlds theories versus practical clods
jobs for everyone
solitary life lobs
bureaucrat rackets smashing forehands sover nets
sweating blood and crown of thorns treks
fear is  practical for left- leaning wrecks
missiles glisten as saviors for thee doth they sing
wait till next year, maybe then bang  a gong.

Political Ladder To... (poem)

 

The ladder is a dialectical progression
with two paths, two world lines
one to heaven and the other to hell
those on one side of a double Möbius strip
the helix with ties cut to faith
learning of evolution
misunderstanding the Word of God
without dedication to life
the journey to death is politically chosen
selected upon a dark night

When lives lost faith
except in absolute power
civility was shriven
increments for evil were made
with double speak and intoxicating power
broadcast rules chose the nuclear option
laws were malleable tools
for the one party state convenience
lies about virgin broadcasters flumping themselves
double speak justice sparkled baloney general
stipulated reason lay in absolute power

Atomic bombs memorials
high winds through dirty skies
somewhere a conventions for stilts wins
promotions of the spiritually dead
working the will of desolation
to end the age of peace
to usher in an era of charnal corpse creation
for them nothingness matters
so the unelected rise with sycophantic sophistry
like dead shots of opposition
as if time had forgotten proverbs chapter 2 verses 16-22
and the promise of God...
To deliver thee from the strange woman, even from the stranger which flattereth with her words;
Which forsaketh the guide of her youth, and forgetteth the covenant of her God.
For her house inclineth unto death, and her paths unto the dead.
None that go unto her return again, neither take they hold of the paths of life.
That thou mayest walk in the way of good men, and keep the paths of the righteous.
For the upright shall dwell in the land, and the perfect shall remain in it.
But the wicked shall be cut off from the earth, and the transgressors shall be rooted out of it.

Proxima Centauri B nine years Distant with Electro-Mag Accelerator?

 

Proxima B is the nearest planet in another star system that might allow humans to live on it with appropriate adaptations. Primarily that would entail creating a way to filter out x-rays from the sun. With conventional chemical rocket space craft it would require 80,000 years to get to Proxima Centauri B, yet if travelling at half of the speed of light the time required for the journey would be somewhere around 8 or 9 years. That 4.26 light year distance would not seem so far with initial electro-magnetic acceleration.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Proxima_Centauri_b#:~:text=The%20stability%20of%20an%20atmosphere,X%2Drays%2C%20as%20Earth

It is possible to create a very vast electro-magnetic accelerator somewhere within the solar system that would be 100-300 million to a trillion miles in length capable of moving a charged module habitat inside to half light speed. The spacecraft would coast the rest of the way and use ion engines to begin slowing down with the help of gravity fields of stars on the far side. E-mag accelerators may be temporal and exist just when launches are required and could be built in a variety of ways using solar and/or nuclear power sources, perhaps with solar system planetary configurations at optimal configuration to host participating fields. Just a thought.

In September (poem)

 

In September the pole tilts away
from the sun receding in the distance
an empty space has negative curvature
the concavity of downhill gravity
is at the end of a refractor telescope
viewed from the wrong end
life fading away

  On the trail, the dei, gray feathers
strewn like warped snowflake clocks
the body of life is absent with the hawk
thermals somewhere Aztecs live
not here where God sets transparent images
like valleys and islands aircraft inhabit together
so colors run together like visions of tomorrow

  The smallest ripples on otherwise dead calm water
belying currents below and wind above
mountains and temperature changes
find it difficult to catch a breath
beyond the borders of a season
setting in the star growing smaller
from clouds in a forest dream

A seal risen above the noise
watches a boat approach
engine echoes in its realm
are noises for submersion ears
with cold, dark water and skies
reflecting the weight of something and nothing
vast content of melted glaciers flowing to night

  The blanket of life layers stony extrusions from the sea
humans too, push it aside with machines, drills and fire
even so rainwater flows
downhill with echoes of yesterday  In September the pole tilts away
from the sun receding in the distance
an empty space has negative curvature
the concavity of downhill gravity
is at the end of a refractor telescope
viewed from the wrong end
life fading away

  On the trail, the dei, gray feathers
strewn like warped snowflake clocks
the body of life is absent with the hawk
thermals somewhere Aztecs live
not here where God sets transparent images
like valleys and islands aircraft inhabit together
so colors run together like visions of tomorrow

  The smallest ripples on otherwise dead calm water
belying currents below and wind above
mountains and temperature changes
find it difficult to catch a breath
beyond the borders of a season
setting in the star growing smaller
from clouds in a forest dream

A seal risen above the noise
watches a boat approach
engine echoes in its realm
are noises for submersion ears
with cold, dark water and skies
reflecting the weight of something and nothing
vast content of melted glaciers flowing to night

  The blanket of life layers stony extrusions from the sea
humans too, push it aside with machines, drills and fire
even so rainwater flows
downhill with echoes of yesterday
and its fading leaves awaiting frosty reprieve
for continuity to break importunate convection
and try again next year.
and its fading leaves awaiting frosty reprieve
for continuity to break importunate convection
and try again next year.

A Poet's Uniform

 

 A roulette wheel with a rainbow of colors
spun with a moon around
reminding the poet of a timely notion
where oceans came to rest
politicians chorded sounds of the mess
where sand isn’t grit on polished halls
at the exact point of nowhere

Covered with aesthetic patterns
shoulder eponyms of iambic pentameters
lines inscribed ranked hexameter formations
battalions of airborne poets considering motions
existential descriptions of everywhere
transparent uniforms color over time
morphing to glorious algorithms

  A  poet’s uniform was standard issue
in past days training to war
a great opaque, corporate one
with battery bearers, Starlink’d antennae carriers
and splendid report-worthy deaths in store

  Poets in stock have special structures of words
where with to observe absurd
colors and smells in tire rut runes and guts of hells
splattered with smatterings of drone-speak shells
spelling exceptionally resonant words

Caduceus slathered with patriotic blood
pools of mud and ghouls of golden rules crud
newspeak curdles of hunches of lunches
where enemies could fork left and right
miles of spicy blue grueled tripe

Red, white and blue somethings flumped news
camouflaged culls changing dark brown to green
things inflated and crashed sour mashed grounds
hated so subtleties severed from ideas mean
nothing and nothing more for never

  End of days work apocalyptic rays
heralds revelation denied
fried programmed codes for loyalist nodes
leaders promoting  Armaggeddon's revival lied
riding thrones to crooked levers

  The poet’s crisp threads needed to honor the dead
manufacture of standardized lines of verse
each stanza and worst of horror stories terse
enabled with war widgeted political minds
birthed another contrapositive endeavor
with staccato drum beats of yore that tore
a cornucopia of tropes dropped from the sky.

For the Good of It (poem)

 

Words that twist and turn dark spin
day’s lost ways where shadows begin
sparks, ice of luminous fires sin
party elite prize porky grins

  Core math loops subside poor paths
quixotic clocks echo rich rath
clutch clear political cloth
reason more to just niche truth

  Add up patterns and designs
structure built units of good times
rhythmic reps zeitgeist consign
seek for the good that you would find.

No Complaints (a poem)

 

   Things that go bump in the surf
ignore how uncomfortable it was
memories are dimensional lumber
dorsal fins swimming your way in neck deep estuarine water
flowing tides today
a sense of sogginess pervading dreams
a sleeping bag soaking up water
drips down and saturating a field
fire ant mud mounds above the water level
of a flooded field
a place to think about lightening flashes
driving rain and tornado roof-ripping
comparisons to hurricanes
riding a bike through the eye
one with bearings not yet broken
gears immersed in mud and lake puddles
miraculous suspended sediment
rinse off sweat with alligators
sharing the stream
warm and wet  compared to the frozen
places far from crowds
without doorways for overnight
thunderclap symphonies
unlike darkest winters in deep snow

  A sense of sogginess and heat exhaustion
superimposed like a portrait of memory
walking over the trestle
beside a resting line of box cars
disposable as dreaming of tomorrow
prior to awakening today
thousands of cars driving the freeway
one sees today
patching the goat head flattened inner tube
of a bike with a rusty chain
dry  desert contemplative solitude of broke
heat providing the wilderness opportunity
sign up for a Army vacation
mortar rounds for all
a boomerang flies and the Earth quakes
an atomic war won’t happen immediately
with hot engines and metal
racing homeward
to better places with good paint, rocky lawns and global warming

  Mountains of aspiration and hope
snow beautiful and distant
bear ripped up the tent again
duck tape without vigilant drones
not yet a blanket of zero degrees
the visitor of winter darkness in nightfall
lasting longer than city lights on the waterfront
paper plates and dumpster menus lacking health labels
doors frozen shut with tax credits
targeted by public broadcasting
dressing with union retirement planning
union police and social studies sergeants
walking on water half the year
Wall Street hits parade iof pocketbooks

  Complaining of criminals, spiders and bear
spaces where impact, frostbite and starvation
are empty coke cans
and exhaust from idling autos  is the new normal
the chat trained monkey pox
employer lists of numbers to confer unemployment
continuing interstate job insecurity
more out of work than in
returning to the heat lamp and freezer
returning to the destitution
where a legendary buffalo roamed
western movies on location
with decades of social evolution
rusting spikes and running Nikes
jettisoned boom box circuit plates on shoulders
convenient stores, people in uniforms
the last bite, a good night
fueling cars under kleig lights
El Caminos driven to the past.

In First Place (a poem)

 

How they go about the race to nowhere
they left the same time
taking different routes away from the city
differentiating in the rains and desert heat
gaining and losing weight, patience and prosperity
followed by poverty with reports of shadows

Mountains with stones falling
within craters of volcanoes
surprising comets across a beautiful blue sky
laws and regulations
scriven on Newtonian apples
within a season of civilization
plugged into power sockets

The time grew to integrals and universals
differentiating relativity in forms of simultaneity
varying near observation platforms
they sought to reach
with tiring experience perspectives of colors faded
foam surged to fill entire regions
where things came apart
in season.

The Inheritance (a poem)

 

   Fully automatic check out lines
robotic arms sort the union’s groceries
tallied by A.I, with digital video receipts
delivered to A.I. empowered cars
where chauffeurs sleep
and servants will clean up the mess

   Three-D printers of copious drones
Democrat’s wars on Earth and space
set up the meek to inherit the Earth
who might wish that powerful war politicians of orbit
would be on their way to worlds of wealth beyond

   Some diamond covered planets of glory
three-d printed space ships in microgravity
aluminum fused frames in the vacuum
with power sufficient to live at the edge
bring light to the end of the tunnel
the wormhole tunnel of worms

   Three-d printers with A.I. designers
ordering the fastest, sleek undersea drones
bring more efficiency to wars
with drones for every city
churning the polity and elite positions
preparing the inheritance.

Nothingness is Faster Than Light (a poem)

 

In the sea of nothingness
distance does not exist
speed has no limit
nor reference point consist

  A Universe of space-time
coheres within nothingness like a dream
its quanta have a dual existence
one to mass, another to nothing it seems

  Touching nothingness quanta super-position
information distributes to all possible places
faster-than light, day overcomes night
the phenomena of being clear gravity spaces

  Surface tensions of a Universe expanse
contact free space infinity
quantum field reflections
drawn on time’s mass insurrections

  Four dimensions contact zero dimension’s heart
nowhere to begin
nothing to end at a start
God’s eternal art need win

  The superfluous stretch of space-time
positions wrap unto none
where everywhere and thing locate nothingness
ditto shapes and  echo  rhyme

  Gravity is a positive quality of mass
a field rolling itself up
flying apart in contact with nothingness
returning to the forever it left to sup

  A project of God with omniscience to see
all points of quanta being, and becoming
realities of data, a fate accompli
flowing fast in temporal streams.

The Bridge to Nonsense

Like a bridge over troubled nonsense
politics sent in the clowns
like a widget flumping stellar faux pents
foggy days brought inverted frowns

Gray days smiled at me
nothing but gray days do I see
cloudy skies arise from now on
bring the dark clouds banging a gong

Never saw a rain ever so dark
must have been made from dark matter quarks
in drenching rain sun don’t shine at all
the bloody contrast wicks exogenous sprawl

With Thales, Anaximander and Anaximenes
God is the one
when a Universe begins
not the house of the rising sun

Thesaurus vs thesaurthem
by hook or by crook
darkness yearns into light
why should pollution sleep easy at night
when liberal craze of autofrackin days
brink plants to survive death rays aright

What is the mist bugged by the west
small drops of moisture to deserts in quest
of ink on lost parchments
directions could be
enclosed right inside
resurrection of the blessed.

The Presence of Memory (a poem)

 

Time and being’s unknown roots
history’s grown lyres and lutes
lost shadows, memory clues
bud more presents past new sand loops

Time is built with good past plans
evolving grown aft Word commands
branch options, granules of sand
vectors worst brought Somme span

Now is the phenomena
structures grow forms flow vents luft
colors clone mystery stuff
sailing past horizons spent rough.

Nuclear War or Border Security (a poem)

 

Seeking the impossible dream
of nuclear war before next spring
Joe Biden plants the flag of Mt. Suribachi
in Kiev to fly for modern Nazis

Russia paid with 3/4 million soldiers to beat Barbarossa
and Biden has reinforced Ukraine with La Cosa Nostra
his ego flies on automatic
re-election seeker forever
plagiarizing with heat-seekers

Trump would have a peaceful world
free trade globally until the whole free world
in recondite morrows knows its time to change
economic style to war on global warming pains.