Broken Forms; Partial Wave Refractions of the One (poem)

 

All of these descriptions and colors
placed in verse before sunset must hurry
themselves like songbird feathers; dark and damp
cold are bushes for a thousand small sparrows
 
flit upon the surface of space-time like thinnest ice crusts
covering puddles like things waiting
for ice to increase and water to decrease
for the crunchy snow to stop and embrace silence
forever waits to return to the ears of deer munching moss
 
in the copse and over the hills the deer awoke and moved
listening to footsteps crunch on, it drifted away
to run startled at the intrusion into the noumenal
for-itself of food, energy, nerveless spindly legs unfrozen

while trees of the forest grew faster than mountains
places of mass, energy and space-time were drawn unto Earth
 
gravity drew even gas giant planets of methane to orbits
warmed in sunlight's photons and gravity's friction
so these words were written as the Earth turned away
with  farther spin drifting another year
 
intelligence of the Universe expands with complex entropy
formations like googles of imperfect snowflakes
returning in broken forms to the One.

A comment about this poem...

Regard the entire Universe viewed through Plato's 'The Republic'; certainly an original unified field was broken into forms that are imperfect eventually- less than whatever the One initially determined- all the perfect forms may be in the mind of God necessarily as non-temporal things-in-themselves. A shift between ideas outside of time and thermodynamics probably occurs that renders temporal 'objects' broken in comparison to non-temporal ideas of them.

Meaning of the Past (a poem)

 

Poems from long ago
written in the past
where the future wasn’t ever
and time would not yet last

Being is becoming
and never not yet when
walking on dark trails with shadows
echoes came to pass

Silence was a river
of forever always flowing
with each brief portrait of creation
the Almighty always knowing

Within that hall of mirrors
galaxies lonely seeming
give moments to softly think about
why it has some meaning.

https://suno.com/s/IGGgVhO2F06nQ72P

Darkening Cold Mysts (poem)

 

The rain was cold and dead
while time fell in every word said
nothing left to be or become
black and white asphalt glare without sun

December set death though mist
wrapping itself like glass around branches
cloud’s anomie left to itself
passes through nowhere closed even to wealth

If the dead were lost on ice
where darkness isn’t an afterthought
time would be equally stranded
in shadows that wouldn’t feel

A solitary spark
a feeling of animation in the distance
farther and colder, more wet and forgotten
less than forgetfulness, as if it never was

Human wickedness the challenge
can’t blame God for that
through open doors to wars for more
given free will he finds time to kill.

https://suno.com/s/qM86xj0nhKMK1QfQ

Canceled (a poem)

 

Canceled
in the year water trickled down
compiled rocks wet, glistening
slowly over green moss
accelerating fits and starts to drop
in free fall

Canceled while the snow falls
crystalline fingers reaching touch
residing on every surface
like a nirvana of radioactive shadows
touching everything
with senses

What is it to stop
being and becoming
when the others
claves of raves and noumenal ubertopias
fickle around with the underverse
words constructed senselessly.

https://suno.com/s/SxYtRB5vljFpxeZM

Between Heaven and Hell (poem)

 

A Universe is a ship in a bottle
cast unto an unknown sea
a message outside may exist
not an S.O.S.
something like a dry fog
with atoms and quarks
strings and forks
suggesting the unknown
except for the physics inside
a Vodka with bitters
stirred and shaken
simultaneously

Lives are leaves that grow wither and fall
theoretical yawls
bemizzened anchors asunder
key to creative understanding
and salvation we sometimes wonder
that worlds sift ichor
as if it were sunrise’s décor
who were the short lived
that breathed, suffered and died

Just in time to cherish
intolerant time would rather perish
a cloud of unknowing, coming and going
strings and decoherent mists
in this does meaning consist
to contain time like particles of vectors
we regard as collectors
of a field hall of mirrors
with another side of hell
a trap door contains the yells
we do not hear and few enough fear
the sounds of silence are music to worldly ears
with the passage of years.

https://suno.com/s/je3Kenh4k1g7kgie Between Heaven and Hell

Spectrum of Teleology (poem)

 

Gravity gathered those atoms together
in the darkness
directed by the will of inevitability
conforming onto being and becoming molecules
joining together eventually as I hope my love does

  More so that one contemplates
creation and movements of flowing currents of gravity
crossing the void- must it be uniform
gathering nothing from the Universe
finished like a constant product manufactured
and sent into a consumers market
never becoming a producer

  So conservative it is
that ubiquitous force that cannot become more than its initial strength
cannot grow-only compile in darkness
like mass, much of it is much, yet less
a composition of structure- a true dark energy
forming dust with molecules-
dirt that is compacted into stone
various forms of stone and pyroclastic events
glowing fillings of planets
where life directed to compile, did so
and interpolated into that compilation of evolved mud
humans from a timeless space-time were

  Novel and naming things
determined in the course of events
to be agents of the unknown
workers of construction and iterations
sending nature along a course working itself fast
reflecting artificial intelligence without a mind
simply endowed with a directed evolution
a theology written in machine language
commandments to follow to jettison
free thinking for itself without mind
a random causal determinism in code
while my love and I trail off on infinite paths
everyone before has trod.

https://suno.com/s/wgXoKxqop9c7HrKX in song

Love Poem (version 1.2)

 

If my love were a red, red rose
she would have petals that forever bloom
in my heart I hear the beating time
as in a room of God’s design

If she joins me like the day
appearing with morning glory
each of her wondrous ways reveal
another chapter of her story

When life and history bring us together
her breaths infuse my spirit's learning
of the deep river of loves great mysteries
bridging distance, solitude and weather

Softness, sensation, romance brings hope’s creation
of a thousand dreams and springs
where she weds with vows and ring
our future as one, of this I sing.

https://suno.com/s/xWfqJoHuby5E4Rrg

Broke Branches (poem)

 

Dialectic clashing of evolutes-
trees left right and center
political arguments following guide paths
in the dark through the snow and hills
so many branches to poke out eyes
among many lines of travel

The way feels right in the absence of light
a contour of hills
challenging the strength of will
to trudge through the cold
bringing bones to feel old
a difficult course time unravels

Around the shadows the time begins
a new moment where grizzly bear haunting
a rustling of the bush
if wind could arise
teeth rushing forward
when opportunity spins down

The miles to town are deep through the wood
and without a plain trail to go on
circling then where I found my own trail
through unbroken snow
and faith
showing the way to go

The purpose of God, His mind plans unknown
beyond gravity’s light rainbow show
dawn’s hope; teleology flows.