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On Writing And Words Science Poems | On Writing And Words Poems About Science

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Details | Verse | |

Who Am I

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
Judge that

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



Details | Shape | |

Without My Soup

*WITHOUT THE SOUP.......

                                                    >                             *                        *                      *
        *                                            >
                        *                             >                                    
                                                        >
                                                        >             *                        *        *               
                                                         v  
              *                           <         haiku's
                                    <                moon >>>>>   planet
                                 <                                          sonnet
                    planet   <                       *                                 >
                     free    <                                                             >            *
                    verse <                         #####                   *           >
                                                   # # SOUP ##                              >   lyric
<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<< <                  # # SUN # #  
                                                        #####             *                                                                                                                                                                                                                            >>>
                                      <           *        monoku's                                       >>> senryu  
        *                planet                            moon                                                   satellite 
                         quatrain
                                      >>>>      planet                >>>>     planet
                *                                  tanka                                 rhyme
                                                                                                   >>>


                  
.... MY POETRY, 
      MY HEART, 
       WILL
         BE 
          LOST 
            IN
             SPACE....
                                                                                                                                                                                                         

___________________________________________________________________


Details | Light Poetry | |

' Patricia Adams - An Alaskan Light ... '

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 …

                   Your Poet-Friend,
         
                           The  MoonBee


Details | Haiku | |

' Metaphysical Moment (The Haiku)

Metaphysical Moment (The Haiku)

           Understanding A
       Metaphysical Moment …
       … Nature’s Mysteries



                 This Haiku is for:
       The Haiku Master ‘Raul’ Moreno
Metaphysical Poet Extraordinaire’ (smile))

                        MoonBee


Details | Light Poetry | |

' A Metaphysical Moment ...'

‘ 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)

          Understanding A
      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


Details | Bio | |

Feeling The Flow

The way
words fit together
is kind of a ritualistic measure,
where word
     and verse
flow rythmicly
     to the cerebral cortex
stimulating
      endorphins,
          and hormones
to cause a response of choice.
You can't think about
how they go,
it's all in
the way that they roll
     out if the mind
and on to paper.
You see
     it's kind of like
a mathematical equation,
this blissful creation,
but they're not all about
      beautiful things,
I write with destructive potency.
I can create
a morbid dreamscape
that can flow into the mind
and reek havoc,
     when its strong enough
I'll make your brain spastic,
turning in it's own juices,
squirming to end the atrocities
that your not reading,
                        but feeling.


Details | Narrative | |

The Song Of David

Enlighten days have past
He comes excel in all, so he thinks
"I am greater than man,
I know what ignorant man does not.
Come to me for knowledge unsurpassed!".
He points to the blue heaven,
"Where is thy wisdom? For I know all.
Where is thy command? That makes the ground shake
And brings forth water that lives?"

At the great gatherings,
He flocks the shepherds, blind, mute and deaf  
He answers to the multitude of questions
He asked the shepherds, "but what are thy questions?",
“I know not what do ask a man of your wisdom, but what  is a dream?
What is life?” asked the young herdsman.
"I know not what you speak of", said the Man.
"I only know what i can feel, touch and see"

"A dream is dream that passes us by, like gentle breeze of fresh spring.
Life holds all things mystery and doubts.
Shepherd knows to flock, not life or dreams".
"The shepherds are those who are humble, noble one", said the herdsman
"The blind cannot see, the mute cannot speak and the deaf cannot hear".
"Who are you preaching to? Silent and amaze, the man looks on.  

"If the blind could see you, 
They would say, 'look here is the man who tried to humble the blind
For they can see what others cannot,
If the mute could speak, they would humble you!
And if the deaf could hear they would shamed your wisdom".
"Was I a fool?" said the Man "or are you not that young herdsman?
Who knows nothing of life and passes his days tending the sheep's?
What could you learn from such simpleton life?"

"Life I live is simple indeed, 
No one knows that the shepherds are those who protects the weak"
"Nature is a friend of the shepherd; we sing the song of David
And rubs the olive oil to our young sheep, to keep away the flies".
Insulted, the man's fury turns over to the young herdsman
"Nature? Protect the weak? The song of David? Flies?
How can nature befriend a lonely shepherd? Protect who?
Song of David the Shepherd who became the king? 
What flies would harm the young flocks?"

The young herdsman smiled at the frown face of the man,
Left without a word
The blind, the mute and deaf ignored the man.
An unyielding shame kept the man humbled
He wonders why the young herdsman smiled about.
He came about a bridge and crossed the rocky roads
On the hill top he stood 
And saw the young herdsman singing the Song of David.


Details | Triolet | |

That you sense my vibes

That you sense my vibes and moves by it,
Doesn't make all my maze the masterpiece,
And doesn't judge loyalty and modesty.
That you sense my vibes and moves by it
Doesn't guarantee pounds and majesty.
Call me back when I err. Therefore,
That you sense my vibes and moves by it,
Doesn't make all my maze the masterpiece.


Details | Free verse | |

Untitled #308 / Universal gravitation and the human heart

Oh constant Things! By Newton’s law of universal gravitation,
everything in the universe is attracted to
every other thing. If only the human heart
would obey this simple principle, there would be no need
for heartbreak, for pain, for mortal strife,
for impotent words that fall on no ears that matter.


Details | I do not know? | |

Quiz 7 New Clue

It's a grand thing, yes, it is.


Details | Haiku | |

' Uni-Verse...' (Haiku # 11)

   ‘ Uni-Verse ’   Haiku  # 11

        Oh, What Universe
What Grand Word, Did God Speak First
     ... Gave Beginning – Birth !


Details | I do not know? | |

Letting Thoughts Run

Letting thoughts run, fun 
happily eager to meet one another in a clash of ideas
each as unique as the last they mingle, and greet as individuals in a mind of mentality, a 
party pulling out poetry in an attempt to define definition of self, indefinite.

interesting to see thoughts of wisdom, timeless and now 
advise thoughts of hopelessness in a sea of certainty
washing up possibilities washing away concerns
cleaning the soul of poisonous thoughts with purity.

Pure is energy
Pure is light from the sun
Pure is compassion and empathy
Pure is initial
Pure is without thought

Thoughts live one at a time
Thoughts travel in a single line

You can only hold one thought at any moment
so make it a good one, a positive one
one that makes you smile

Good thoughts bring about good things
bad thoughts bring you trouble

Manifestation of thoughts into the physical.
The thought of thoughts being materialized, in a vessel
visible, tangible,
in itself shapes these very thoughts.
Creation is consciousness.

Thoughts are free until you put them on paper, or
type them, now imprisoned behind digital bars
these words will never be the same
as the moment they were created in my brain.
spontaneous words can be, here there everywhere at once
with no real connection or responsibility except to the writer writing them
and the reader.


Details | Free verse | |

The Interlude

I am drenched
In a solemn, endless rain of tears 
Over the drifting of my sole spring—
Its grace and ethereal splendour

Extricate me, 
Now lost in the tangled darkness of cosmic riddle
Fire me, 
To the crest of your sublime ripple

In a murderous mob
Hunting down intolerant voices
Let me flourish 

Efface that vestigial wilderness
Of towering forest between
So I can hear …

Lavish on me the wealth of your melodic inventions 
Closing that desert of distance
That long seems across trillion miles 

I, the latest flame in your rising fire
Pull me near your rapid river
Where groves laden with mangoes quiver


Details | Ode | |

SOME WILL KNOW GREATNESS

Our modern world has become
so advanced and sophisticated,
and its technology is at our fingertips;
unlikely yesterday when everything was slow-paced,
now fast-food and credit cards are a convenience...
and poverty is the plight of low-income!

Some will know greatness,
for having made unthinkable strides,
and they will be honored or even immortilized;
and I like to be one of them...simply remembered!
The great minds of the past, like those of today,
struggled to come out of obscurity,    
until Popes and wealthy people recognized their genius;
and those names became so glorious!  

Each one of us is born with an amazing gift,
and through vocation and inspiration,
it can grow in size and scope...
if it's used with good intention!
Painters choose the colors of their images, 
writers create the words of their moods;
sculptors carve out  faces with a chisel,
and  composers imitate the feelings of the soul!

Some will know greatness,
and though riches may not ever be theirs...
their works are the reflection of themselves,
or of others who made a difference;
we have seen them, admired them
and applauded them with excitement!
And they are as detemined as we are,
fullfilling a mission beyond compare!
  


Details | I do not know? | |

Mental Affair

I gaze a stalky single-helix cradle,
Squished so in seemingly hydrous blue cover,
Attracts square substantial planes in a bundle.

I embrace now feather's mass helve to ladle
Psychic portraits siphon to it in wander.
My fist fiddles as it scribbles on oodles.

Cuts of a suckling tree, soil, river fondle
Paper, pen, poet in cahoots as lovers
Rupture of a skeptic smug gnostic noodle


Details | Free verse | |

ALL LEGENDS ARE MADE BY DREAMS

Is there a purpose for struggling,
enduring trails that could be been avoided?
What motivates an individual to surpass
any conceivable limit...to build a concept?


A normal person has less cares than a genius;
no passion for art or interest in science,
so aimless is that existence...
resembling a shadow passing. 


A philosopher once said that
legends are made by dreams,
by each stage as they are woven,
but their inner voices are as faint 
and distant as raging waterfalls
descending steeply, to splash in rivers below;
and to hear them, you must get closer enough,
until their loud sound can deafen 
the ears and astonish the eyes...
Oh, I have contemplated them in sheer surprise!


Nobody ever sees a thinker's curved back
posing on the water-splashed, cracked rock;
if civilization has betrayed his idealistic thoughts,
accusing him of insanity and prejudice...
how can dark minds be lucid enough to discern
what he sees in images of true perfection?
And he will be another outcast detested by society...
for having demonstrated a superior mentality?


Go to the highest hill, amid the rugged mountains of the South,
and find him in the same spot meditating
over a glorious view that the very learned once admired;
go and comfort him with a friendly hand-shake,
and amply confirm that his action wasn't a mistake,
but a challenge and a cause worth-taking!
And his testimony, that all legends are made by dreams,
is found in his prophetic and exquisite writings.



Details | I do not know? | |

Quicksilver

Behold the pulchritude overhead exalts to about a spread. 

It is o full swift which greatly outstrips thunder and gale added, 

Yet ocular to sigh from more than a score of hillocks afar. 

It is yet not as harefooted as my head can proceed thinking, 

Wending in raining sands anyway in the world; I am, warping. 

Eclipsing, rising flowering is stalking to a lightning hark. 

Fit ratherish hebetates the wit seeing the fleeting on-dit. 

Wights excitedly get unaware and err without a merit. 

Thunderstorm is a marvel, a thrill, and opposite to a pit. 

To expand the concept in top glass, I can only compound it 

To a bit, as Oak's nether jut loud rackets; I lief bracket it 

To daunted lit fibrils in an electric, animated chit. 

Grandiosity and haste of german "Blitz" allure me pretty, 

Puffing sinew of great intensity as exit gratefully. 

No wonder Homer, a sage, enkindled Zeus with it slatefully. 

Withal, Gandalf scragged up a demon by a bolt, hit it fatefully. 

I fumble in night to kiss spits heard in my inner olio. 

To fancy, a mountain of clouds on the stratosphere sits and flows. 

Ergo, zenith and nadir fascinate each other, pitch and tow. 

Lightning is jars of macedoines of grits afloat as dominoes. 

A scad of millesimals in a galaxy: shrunk, shot, and blows. 

Such dragons breathe snows wee of infinitesimal ratio, 

So snows sock the gullible cherub in me so as hue arrows. 

A bolt o real as it speeds, is so so vivid; No nod, it glows. 

A man tranquil in a head, able or wicked, it's good to know, 

Mental heaven to if it is full facile to trow; Thor follows.


Details | Haiku | |

Building Blocks

The Invisible
Framed the worlds by faithful words
For visible proof.

Dedicated to my son Caleb.


Details | Free verse | |

Number Nine (Nonet)

Sixty-three divided by seven
Four squared plus two and minus nine
Square root of sixteen plus five
Square root of eighty-one
Three squared plus zero 
Ten minus one
Six plus three 
Three threes
Nine!



Comments:  dedicated to the mathematical wizards who would like to write a 
nonet poem, this is your chance.   This is a very understandable way to write a 
nonet. A nonet poem has nine lines, with the first line containing nine syllables, 
the second line eight, the third seven, then six, next five, then four and so until the 
last and ninth line has one syllable. The nonet poem may be written about any 
subject, and rhyming is optional. Start with a topic sentence and work it down live 
a funnel. It should be deductive and inductive.


Details | Free verse | |

BIOMYOPIC

BIOMYOPIC
Never am eye ever counting my self worth in the amounts and measures of this 
world the many blankets that eye have like an old Indian man this would lead me 
into madness and depression far too quickly then is my want the things afforded 
me is gold and silver lines my pockets but the stuffins that eye have and all the 
riches of this world yes even MONEY is not GOD and HE has Glory when eye 
gather and even when eye find eye just say thank you JESUS even in my mind 
The way is narrow the way is hard the way is easy the way is love.
The shoes upon my feet are not wearing out they keep there size and shape for 
many months now. NO one is perfect and things are not forever but the one who 
blesses us can make a shiny piece of leather
Last seemingly forever if it is on the sandel of his desert feet.
The Holy Son Of GOD the JESUS of the Nazarene landscaping the Jesus of the 
CROSS is HE who is my blessing. A good Christian man must examine himself 
to see if he is in the HUMAN race the thing to please remember is to have the 
attitude inside the forewithall to hide thyself from pride and foolish attitude of self 
decay and sometimes leaving water here and there is the hope of someone 
else’s day. A drink left out where poor one may soon find it may not seem like 
much in the Grand scheme of things but we must soon get started giving and the 
good deed comes in living and just having FAITH and leaving just a cup just ONE 
CUP of cold water in the place the poor man dwells eye can say with out reserve 
with out much thinking looking back eye have been that very thirsty eye have 
needed water finding none and eye was thirsty did ewe give me drink did ewe 
give me some. Eye left a cup of water for the poor man to drink and GOD has 
overflowed my wellness and eye am not now ever sick. This is my biomyopic.


Details | Rhyme | |

Writing

Writing sets me free.
It helps me get my point across.
When I am writing, no one is my boss.
The literary genre of my choice is poetry,
Because it creates the very image of my inner voice.
I’m not very talkative in fact:
People are surprised when they see me act like they act.
Back to the genre of poetry,
I like it because it sound like the lyrics of rap M.C.’s
Again, I say it lets you know,
The real me.

I had no idea that God gave me the gift of writing poetry.
I realized it when the so-called love of my life walked out on me.
It was the only nonviolent way of easing my pain, 
Because I had already done so many things to get over it that caused me shame.

Not only writing is a talent.
I have many hobbies some could call me a jack-of-all trades.
I love music, singing, scientific works, and reading books-that all people made.
Numerous talents have me unsure of what career to pick.
I don’t know what I should be.

I think sometimes that I want to be a singer, engineer, or teacher/scientist.
I often wonder, is all of that really me?
I have no clue of what I should do.
Maybe there is a way that I could mix,
All of these talents together.

Writing helps me get all of my thoughts out.
Maybe I should be a writer on various topics of my interests.
I am a quiet person so writing is way that I shout,
About my beliefs, attitudes, interests, and general. 





Details | Prose Poetry | |

TwentyFabel6

TwentyFabel6
Mental Telepathy
Apathetic CharlaX
Wood yew like to have a super power like mental telepathy
then rally hear what people think
when they stare at you
and understand just what they think of you?
Like the movie liar liar with Carey? He looked so calm and said you really look 
like the dog today? Or something to that affect? WAIT this brings up another point 
eye need to make. 
fable  
The story that eye make is sometimes loosely based on a real life scenario a 
fate of people just like ewe and eye.
The Animal in my Fabels is of course the Charlax creature and alien from a 
distant star system not attuned to the physical much in the manner of Michael 
Valentine. My Fables are just stories not ever about animals just Fabels notice 
the different spelling the e is transported to mean a different sort of story. Most of 
my fables is suitable for children although they are not written JUST and ONLY 
for the tykes they can be read and digested by most humans online.
If little Johnny Sue is less than FIVE years young than mabe you need to filter all 
the charlax from the line and consider placing the computer a little higher on the 
vine. Most children precocious notwithstanding can move a mouse with easy 
strokes and games build smurffing skills well used in later life. There was a 
science fiction story the naked man stood on the platform and tried to transport 
hisself by kinetic transference of his energy he went to lots of different places 
only he had to get there naked his clothes would not make the jump. Think about 
it like the movies eye suppose they even used it in the Terminator ones. 
Common man and common sense can make the same mistaken thinking try 
this one on for size if someone stares at yew for very long without a word in your 
direction and they are frowning or even sneering it's a good bet the brain has a 
dialogue of one like this one “Oh GOD look at that man he must be homeless he 
looks so bad like unwashed glasses.”


Details | Free verse | |

Quiz Clue #4

This is the final clue,
Before I tell you,
Which I will by tomorrow,
And end your puzzle sorrow,
Though I hope someone
does pass this test,
And be smug with all
the rest


Details | Verse | |

Don't Blink Or You'll Miss It (PIM Inspired Reversed -Verse)

Meteors roll
Streaming 
Beyond the mystic moon
Propelled 
As flashing stars
Tracing the Heavens
In Silence
~~~Say What~~~
In Silence
Tracing the Heavens
As flashing stars
Propelled
Beyond the mystic moon
Streaming 
Meteors roll 


Details | Free verse | |

MADE UP POEM

 MADE UP POEM 
MADE UP POEM 
Managerial inseparable font new words made up just on the spot 
warpped constitutional practices they took JESUS out of school 
they pray to the dollar bill and grab as many of them 
as they can possibly imagine 
they start out slow and then they snowball 
they change the history in the history books 
they give the children dirty looks 
they have an analytical mind 
they have no rhyme or rhythum 
though they beat upon a drum 
they tattoe dreams upon their arms 
and sleep in constellations of alarm 
they ruin life for all the rest of us 
they make it hurt and make it suffer 
they indicate and relate the waif 
they simulate their lover 
they do it undercover of the light 
mye soul will be with JESUS 
for they murdered all the crowe in me 
they fight they kill and they could not pay the bill 
what is worth thy soul in all eternity 
a new york t shirt and one dollar bill to some 


Details | Free verse | |

Quiz Wiz , I Is...

I never got so many responses before.
But, so far, you're knocking on the wrong door.
So I'll tell you one thing more,
The answer is virtually in the quiz,
That this old wizard claims is his


Details | Free verse | |

PART TWO TWENTYFABEL6


fable 
c.1300, from O.Fr. fable, from L. fabula "story, play, fable,Most trace to Greece or 
India. 
The story that eye make is sometimes loosely based on a real life scenario a 
fate of people just like ewe and eye.






If they reach behind the back look out they may be trying to pull the cell phone out. 
They may call the police and this is the imagined conversation “Oh please come 
and arrest this man he is impersonating a person” and this is the patrolman on 
his responsive suggestion “What WHO IS THIS where are you?”  While the 
homeless man eats sardines with sail fins on them and crackers come 
unbidden to his fingers than the sailfish eaten carry him to Heaven. The cop just 
hangs up his phone on his belt and laughs he says to his friend and partner for 
life we do not arrest a man just for living. It’s not a crime to eat sardines in my 
jurisdiction.
Eye am only riding on the bus or walking eye do not like to transport naked in the 
winter time. For Fish is better eaten with pepper and it is too far to walk to Burger 
King on this given day.
Thank GOD for Peter Piper the eye just picked a pepper that they provided for a 
pizza and made a meal of battered fishes better.
SCORE one for me and NONE for BOZO.