I am the ring around Saturn
spinning words as particles of ice and dust
with the power to transcend
I am the original chosen to be right here right now
transmitting verbal frequencies
through speaking my thoughts into existence
I am the heir of omnipotence,
born with a direct connection to profound abundance
The one whose words will age, yet still have substance;
since there are no boundaries attached to my pen
I am constant energy
Translating personal experience into imagery
Vulnerable to tyranny,
yet i continue attempting to share some truth
through this abstract language of poetry
I am the core
I am that I am more
I am the Divine Presence that is the Source of my rewards
I am the green you get when you mix too much yellow with the blue
That shade of gold you get when the sun resides into darkness
and when it ascends in the dawn burning dew
I am the transition between the third and fourth dimension of time;
the love you feel when you realize how it feels
I am the poem that is abstractly direct
because I write beyond limits
absorbing frequencies from 3 to 8 hertz
through meditation for several minutes
I am the one bridging the gap between
the analog ascension and the direct connection to spirit
The one who is love
because I am a descendent of it
I am the rhythm that the wind blows
I am the beginning and the ending of stories told
about the universe and how miracles unfold
I hold the power to accept judgement from those who will do just that
Not knowing that I am them in the absolute reality of me
I am knowledge beyond measure because that is my right
So I continue meeting the different parts of me
when I meditate and write
Who am I?
I AM, THAT, I AM
ALIEN -NOT- HUMAN
Alien life form--- ---Far from human toucH
Living among it self--- ---In the heavens like a gurU
Intelligence kept from civilization------Scientist call it a phantoM
Earth remains alone--- ---Like a secret ninjA
NASA's top secret--- ---You are not humanN
BY:SKAT . BY;PD
Earth playing in space.
Rolling over and over.
Sunrise, sunset, spin!
Haze up in the heavens encircles this orb.
Half-dark, half-light, shines from above.
Twinkles of light appear to absorb.
Fractions of darkness within lighted glove,
Speaking to lovers held in each other’s arms.
Answering questions of science to some,
Floating around spreading blessed charms,
Listening close at times, hearing a hum.
Lovers for centuries, graciously, captured by,
Sweet serenity and magical mystery,
Others entranced with secrets, which fly.
From words written and spoken in history.
Satellite, orb, lady, they are all the same.
Mythical goddesses, gripped in flame.
These tales have spread so many games.
This object seen most nights has no shame.
Nanobots began to shape their world in silent numbers
Grew uncountable before the dawn of days
In silence there is no form.
Darkness has no shape on empty landscapes
Black rocks don’t count as objects to odd aliens
Time does not stand still. It stands for nothing in the trenches of creation
Down in the minuscule world of nano-ness abstraction
Going about their business relentlessly
Expanding as they go
Nothing holds back the glow of tenacious ingenuity.
Human metallic rings worn on fingers
Seem to have peculiar effects on nanos actions
For some unknown reason strange things happen at mere contact
Apparently the shape of rings causes aberrant behavior
Perhaps tiny automatons don’t like restrictions
Confined movements to circular rotation
Perplexing them to the monotony of repetition
Around and around the band
Become disoriented as an emergent species
Collide and die
Apparently nano-bots need to expand
Naturally this is all pure speculation
If humans are to merge with them successfully
They must open up the molecules within each cell
Relax the pores above the skin
Allow the alien in
Allow the process to begin
It does not matter if this is a sin or crime
Science and technology must forge forward
That which goes against conventions
Has never stopped the building of reality
Constructing futures is what the nanos do
We are long overdue to break all laws of nature
Allow the nano-bots to do
What they instinctively know how and what to do
Merge with the human brain
Take us to their leader to new horizons
To the next plateau into omnipotence
To stand in numbing silence next to them
Spinning round and round in circles
Humming nano nano under the breath
When the sun sets, The stars shine with no regrets. Darkness fills the air, The moon gives light with every care. The darkness is easier to walk through, Every light shining is so pure and true. Guidence forever are the stars in the sky, With them we find our places lifted so high. Forever is the moon to cast light upon us all, We become encouraged to stand firm and tall. The stars shine with no regrets, When the sun sets.
When the sun sets, Shining its powerful light it never forgets. Though light fades to darkness, It comes about with alertness. Shadows before the eye can see, The little shining light is enough to set us free. Sometimes we are afraid to walk alone in the dark, From which we were given a caustic remark. Guidance Forever is the changing of dark and light, It helps us to be strong and make one last fight. Forever are the shadows lurking at every turning point, If we give in it is ourselves we disappoint. Shining its powerful light it never forgets, When the sun sets.
When the sun sets, The sky is filled with wonderful colors that the ocean reflects. All the animals of the sea, Come forth creating a musical harmony. The waves crash upon the shore, Washing up new sand to the ocean floor. Its a beautiful site to see, The ocean sounds are calmingly free. Who's to say the ocean isn't peaceful get away, Its a calming place to relax and stay. The sky is filled with wonderful colors that the ocean reflects, When the sun sets.
Golden objects are most outstanding,
But without loving, they are missing flavor.
But let’s not forget stunning silver,
That the maid often loves to savor.
And brilliant copper, with its rosy sheen,
That every craftsman should well know.
But cold iron, as Kipling likes to say,
From all of these, takes the show.
Not mentioned yet, but not to be overlooked,
Is platinum, our bright and lustrous pal.
Thought to be impure for thousands of years,
But now more valuable than them all.
Build me an engine –lady of my dream,
Let it be powered by eternal steam.
May patience be your tool of design,
Planning completeness with a cunning mind.
To drive the pistons of a soul’s production,
We need fire with extreme combustion.
This fire from the fervor of powerful prayer
Will create the steam with warmth to spare.
The engine comes to life with a blast and a toot,
And begins to harvest the spiritual fruit.
Run on my soul, with speed aplenty;
For the harvest is rich and the prayers are many.
ENOUGH FOR ALL
All the species of this world, whether mammal, fish or bird
Are provided with their food, whatever their taste
Each created for the other,
When the offspring leaves the mother
There is all the food that’s needed without waste.
The ants will feed the lizard, and in turn, it feeds the Hawk
The flies they feed the spiders, then the frogs.
The amphibian feeds the snake
Which the Kookaburras take
And in time, they all feed ants inside the logs.
The logs fall from mighty trees that house and feed the tiny bees
that fertilize the plants we use as foods.
With rain and sun the crops will flourish
And when harvested, they can nourish
All the peoples in the world, if we so choose
Foods for all the nations are here in God’s Creations,
Glorious is the spirit that’s big enough to care.
Food goes where it’s needed
If our sight is not impeded
Or we keep it for ourselves when there’s enough for all to share.
In this world of ours we’re brothers, sisters, fathers, mothers,
We’re all related by living on this earth.
Whatever we do tomorrow
Can bring happiness or sorrow
Today is when we work out what it’s worth.
I watched the penguins woddle along,
On cold-hard ice; where they belong.
From water to land, they scurried around,
Flapping their feet on frozen ground.
Herds of them were standing still,
Settling down to a long cold chill.
Mother passes her egg to father carefully;
Knowing he'll care for it, so, naturally.
He'll protect it from the harsh-cold nights,
In a warm snug pouch away from sight.
For mother must find many fish to catch,
While father stays until it is hatched.
Long-dark days of Winter will change to Fall,
Returning mother, with, her familiar call.
Such a sweet sound for father's ear,
Ending another, long-cold Winter year.
Giving father penguin a much needed break,
For their chick is born and fully awake.
With such a huge urge to quickly eat,
Yes, many tasty meals of fresh, fish-meat.
Metaphysical Moment (The Haiku)
Metaphysical Moment …
… Nature’s Mysteries
This Haiku is for:
The Haiku Master ‘Raul’ Moreno
Metaphysical Poet Extraordinaire’ (smile))
Run, jump, scream, duck, dodge and leap
Try to stay on your running feet
Honey in the hive
The bees are alive
Run, jump, scream, don't fall and leap!
spirits in the sky
She, Of The Cosmic Essence
Aware Of A Power
Aware Of A Presence
And Aware Of The Need For Our
Desire To Rise Higher
… and Higher
To Our Optimum Height
Patricia … You Are Like The Alaskan Lights
Those Northern Flares and Colors In Cold Night
Floating Dreams, So Mesmerizing
Patricia, Brings It To Her Poetic Themes
Such Are The Verses She Shares To View
And Reading Them, She's Showing You
Her Cosmic Essence Insight
Oh Patricia, You’re An Alaskan Light …
So, Keep Reaching, Keep Speaking … and Write !
For The Girl, Who Shared A Comfy, Snug Book Read
On One Of Her Snowy Days … (Via Her Poem- ‘Autumn’s Passing’
Also - Your Poem ‘Journey’ is One)
See … It Brought Back Some Wonderful Memories To Me …
I am going to be a star,
I am going to out shine you by far.
Around this galaxy, I will swing ,
From a little nobody, to the hottest thing.
I am going to be a star.
First , a little faint and dim,
As I gain power,
I will be shining to the rim.
I will come in like an explosive boom.
You will see me shine very soon,
I am going to be a star.
An explosive volume, yet unheard,
I will out shine all the stars, even those yet unheard.
I am going to be a star.
The hottest thing at night,
Truly , a beautiful sight.
I will be the hottest in the galaxy ,too.
Just wait and see in a million years or two.
I found it in the heaven's
In the sun and moon and sky and stars above
I found it in the clouds
And in the colors of the rainbow
I found it in the forest serene
In the majestic mountains and in the desert plain
I found it in the flowing rivers and ocean's shore
I found it in the flowering bud
And in the array of floral and fauna colors
I found it in the butterfly and song birds
In the raindrops and the snowflakes
I found God's handiwork in nature
I only had to open my eyes
To look upon this divine splendor
On this planet called Earth
In England’s pleasant pastures amid the free wild flowers
Lie pagan ways the wise ones do not mock
And one adept at harnessing these ancient rural powers
Was Oggwool Fleece, the black sheep of the flock
Oggwool was old, much older than the old oak it was said
Beneath whose boughs the dark sheep’s plans are sealed
‘Twas said the sheep had come back from the other side of dead
With the darkness in that corner of the field.
The farm hands better knew to venture in the oak’s strange shade
Or to the long grass that the darkness gripped
Where Oggwool lurked amid the spells and potions he had made
A sheep unshorn and magically undipped.
Not limited by four hooves in working his deft skill
Unhindered in ambitious sheepish plans
Harnessing the dark elves to do his dark sheep will
Dexterously with little dark elf hands.
From that darkened corner of that English country field
His influence extends itself outside
His arcane woolly web through which his mystic powers wield
Reaching parts and persons spread worldwide
He has extensive vineyards in Italy and Spain,
He has mining operations in Peru
He owns a flock of ostriches down in the Ukraine
(Although he never quite intended to)
He’s engineering world events on scales beyond the ken
He has his hooves in business of all kinds
He interferes remorselessly in world affairs of men
With night-time thoughts drip-fed to human minds
Little green men fly through space in saucers flat and round
On interstellar missions without cease
But on their furthest journey yet, their enterprise is bound
To the ever growing plans of Oggwool Fleece
The politicians spin their words and armies shoulder arms
And yet do not beyond their small acts see
But Oggwool Fleece with thistle skills and other sheepwise charms
Is planning how to rule a galaxy!
Spectrum speculations on particular waves
Prismatic refractions of straight beams of light
Showing rainbows of color division
Like octaves of notes on a musical scale
Mixing on palette of chordyllic vision
To play us a picture of moody rendition
On a canvas of mirrors and smoke
Do all these colors match speed in their flight?
Or is it a mad cosmic joke?
Red particles hanging their ten with delight
Surfing a light wave of blue
With purple and green flitting madly alight
At this speed they’re smokingly true
What’s faster the red or the blue?
Sometimes to no avail
You struggle to be different
Like snowflakes you fall
Believe you are vindicated, distinct and exclusive
With innovative design and crystallized mind
Attempting to impress everyone with the hand you have
only we all have the same cards
Razor sharp edges and frosty images
We are slush after a too many Sunday afternoon
Deteriorated with a warped spinal column and a stone-washed mentality
Liquefied by last season's snow boots and plowed to the side most of the time
Human quality is overstated and overrated
the world is far too over populated
we are all the uniform
with carbon bonds, hydrogen and oxygen
I doubt my DNA complexity is what makes my soul mine
We are all hypocrites, benevolence is only to benefit ourselves
When you come out of the cloud your eyes are misted and your judgment’s
With age it doesn't get better only you assume you grasp what you require
But really you've been programmed and proselytized until you do not know what
We come out with different intentions and modifications but I’ll see you in the end
Still that damned snowflake condemned
‘ A Metaphysical Moment ’
A Metaphysical Moment
Electrifying To The Touch
Breathless, Thru The Clouds
Can My Heart, Take So Much
… Can My Eyes Endure
All This Vision, I See
Can Voice, Even Speak
Over Roaring of This Sea
… Can Ear Even Listen
When I Am Flying So Free
Soaring, So True With You and
Metaphysical Moment and Me …
A Metaphysical Moment
Will I Ever Understand
This Mystery of Our Universe
The Mystery of Woman and Man …
(And I End This with an Haiku for
The Haiku Master ‘Raul’ Moreno and
Metaphysical Poet Extraordinaire’ (smile))
Metaphysical Moment (The Haiku)
Metaphysical Moment …
… Nature’s Mysteries
Metaphysical (definition) as an adjective:
Metaphysical of early 17th Century Poetry
Relating to the poetic style of John Donne,
George Herbert and other early 17th Century Poets
Who used consciously intellectual language
And elaborate metaphors that compared things
The rhythms have been set
in the distant blast, light years past
we knew the cadence of a jerking crust
even tempos in the swell of lava underneath
harmonious undulations of liquefied iron ore
mixed precisely in the inner core
the lyrics waters murmur condensing
in the atmosphere or trickling from a spring
voices of surging or ebbing seas
-- pulses of the earth once converged in
our infant soul.
But our pompous blast in not too-distant past
silenced the melody
Too many refrains about our divinity
shattered the symphony.
How then do we propose to trap
notes traipsing with the four winds?
Wholes in the north, halves in the south
quarters in the east or dotted quarters in the west?
There is neither clef nor rest
to guide our unmetered steps,
no flat nor sharp to fine-tune falsetto laughs
in the three-four beat. Shall we waltz
or tango with the two-four beat?
Our choreographer is a master
but his choreography muddles our gait
--so we lose our footing and fall flat on
our scared faces.
We leap and run after a maestro
desperate to string in the baton of a virtuoso
notes dripping from a drying fountain
(the attempt paints a blush on our cheeks)
Arranged in non-dissonant meters
these fountain notes will rise to a crescendo
Or so we thought . . .
-- before a gold-rimmed stick mangled the tune of
our mortal song.
To reassemble scattered pulses of the earth,
we lay our faces, right-ears-down
prostrate upon the ground--
awaiting the hard crust’s deathless groans,
the storm of sand and rocks
earth’s jerks: rain upon our cheeks;
blind our eyes; stuff our ears to deafness
-- we sense rhythm upon
our singeing skin
Then the limbs learn to waltz and tango
Melody is resurrected in our torso
Although we’ve run out of choreographers
and virtuoso masters.
I do not know?
Oh what a curious thing to perceive
Existing within its home, the Universe
A unique, rare and aqueous marble
With a lifespan well surpassing our own
We call it our home, but it is only for rent
Things will begin to change
Humanity will try resist
We are in a system that has long been set in motion
A plan that we cannot stop
What a faction of false hope
A color stained in negativity
Greed, Money, Power, Politics
Oh what a sly plan
A thorn stabbed in the lions paw
Our advantage taken against an orb in suffering
This trusting earth
Telling a secret
Screaming it to the world
Just like a flower
Sunshine stimulates her face
Sparkling with love
The pistil and the stamen
stood upright and waiting
for the bee.
Honey, can you pollinate me?
The wisteria pods burst
on the cicada's feet
as off it flew
to more vines so sweet.
within the play
of insect and plant,
sex provides the wonder
of evolution's dance.
O'er tempest,soars the
eagle with wings
stretching towards the
Up the sky,a figure
with outstretched wings
battling the turbulent
wind and frowning sun.
Soaring like an eagle-
Never an eagle.
Gliding like an eagle-
Never an eagle.
Mistaken for an eagle
in the sky-never an eagle.
Utter's sound as the
eagle-never an eagle.
under a stormy wind.
For paid price-loss of
The works of mother-
nature can never be out-
dated or equalled.
Frog-men under sea
and frogs in the waters
can bear witness.
There are solutions
To save earth from pollution
Why there's is a God Proportions divine hand spirals. He's shaping patterns not chaos. Artwork pleasing to the eye the golden rectangle. Clearly seen by His creation check your double helix in every cell. Not theory
Beyond the Heart, beyond the Hand of God
Beyond the Soul, beyond the Tucanae
Far beyond the Footprint, something odd
A star spun in a spiral death ballet
Ten mega-years of satisfying balance,
Agleam pale sapphire orb of hungry heart
Within whose core, consumption vied with valence,
Then dearth of flame, in doom was rent apart
Energies of which galaxies must tremble
Up and down and strange, three quarks demand
Degenerate, that coherent beams assemble
To collapse and accretion disk expand
At once a coruscating pulse of might
Forlorn of solace Gamma’s focused ray—
A faint blue dot stood lonely in the night
Ignobly vexed on tragic final day
Photonic interactions deeply bite
In distance squared proportional inverse
Bathed silver in aurora bluish-white
Mere minutes to expunge Pandora's curse
Still fair the fields, and forests still stand tall
Still swimming beings deep in ocean's lair
Things still slither, scuttle, creep and crawl
But nothing walks or soars high in the air
Unfouled the nest, the storms abate their cause
In purest air, all climate change subsides
Where hubris reigned, disquietude withdraws
In peace at last again, the Earth abides
By Roy Jerden and Mark Peterson
January 29, 2014
The poem depicts a Gamma Ray Burst from a hypernova
striking the Earth and extinguishing all mammal and bird
life, which are the types most sensitive to radiation. Note
that gamma rays, like x-rays, leave no residual radiation.
The Physics of Sunshine
And I'm finding it hard to break through and tell you
About the physics of sunshine
And when it's all over we may find ourselves together singing out of tune
About the wishing wells and spells softly spoken in the dark
In an electric arc of promised carousel rides, candy thoughts, and whispers of coastlines
Explored and undone petals washed in rays of time and history
I'm finding it hard to explain to you
All that is misunderstood
The sunshine is warm and the particles they spin
In and out of existence
Oh, though I find myself lost within the entropic withering energy of now
Without the physics and the lyrics of sunshine cast
I could never lay these particles into you
I'm with you on this deserted but scarred terrain
Dancing with the theories of existence all entwined
In our glass of wine and our lips locked around the mirrors
Of today, colored with the existence of tomorrow
And I see you in my dreams
Often in the sunshine you are singing
Often in the darkness you are clinging to my t-shirt
And tugging at my heart through my jeans
Even in the sunshine I'm lost without you
And though gravity holds me here
The spin of our destiny still needs to be tied with string
My love inflated – bound within this universe
My heart and fear are now time tested
And now it is into the sunshine of another place parallel to our own
Whether in this dimension or the next one over
I'm tied to you fast forward or rewind
Our love will always be alive
Gravity keeps our feet on the ground,
Stops us from slapdash flying around.
This force of attraction ‘fictitious’ gives weight
And makes all fall down at equivalent rate.
(Albeit in flights of fancy it seems
That gravity follows the laws of dreams.)
Relativity caused Newton’s view to shatter,
In positing spacetime to be curved by matter.
So objects will take a particular path
That must correspond with Einsteinian math.
(The upshot is bodies have odysseys
Appropriate to their geodesies.)
Gravitons, a gravitational source
Of controversy, are seen as a horse
Of a quite different color altogether.
But then scientists aren’t birds of a feather.
(Some sit upon their a priori-based fences
And come up with theories defying the senses.)
Weak or strong, short or long, what is this thing
Called gravity? Wide hypotheses swing.
There are those who suppose that it’s this, others that.
Maybe someday, they all just might have it down pat.
(Meanwhile gravity, though we resize and shape it,
Will still have its own way— for who can escape it?)
– Harley White
< November, 2010 >