Best Quasars Poems
In periwinkle evening hues
I see the shining planets glow.
With pearl moon bright, the sky's diffuse,
the light and dark will ebb and flow.
Eternal heaven overhead
my spirit soars between the stars.
Past Jupiter my heart has fled
round Pluto past the dark quasars.
I need the Venus in your heart
and offer you my longing Mars.
I'll be your caring counterpart
the double in your double stars,
as shooting stars, in your eyes, play
and in your smile, the Milky Way.
04/30/2017
A red sun, pooling like a drop of blood:
coagulates at the edge of darkness.
And ebony flows like a rising flood:
black as pitch, inking a seamless starkness.
A gilded moon, like a pitted gold coin,
beams in the sky as a beacon of light.
And twinkling like flashing fireflies, stars join
quasars and pulsars, lighting up the night.
Dawn frets like a nervous actor offstage,
while preparing to introduce the sun.
And as a gossamer breeze comes of age,
morning shimmers, like a web, freshly spun.
And Sol rises: as a golden balloon,
afloat in the air, like a songbird's tune.
A ghostly moon starts rising
as Dusk falls, and daylight's done.
And orange and tangerine,
envelope a crimson sun.
Heaven's draped in black velvet,
adorned with jewels of light.
And swirls of gold filigree,
spin within the dark of night.
Spinning pulsars and quasars
imbue rhythm to time and space.
And in this cosmic ballet,
gravity holds all in place.
Mars ascends in shades of red,
evoking passion and praise.
And claiming Her rightful place;
Venus peeks down through the haze.
Shooting stars fizzle away
within the blink of an eye.
And the kingdom of magic
is as near as the night sky.
When you're alone in the dark,
look up into the night sky.
And marvel at creation's
incalculable vastness.
Heaven's celestial canvas
instills pure exaltation.
And you dare not breathe or talk
as rapture pools in your soul.
Twinkling stars confetti night
like precious sparkling jewels.
While quasars and pulsars spin
in a whirling dervish dance.
Planets hold gravity's hand,
synchronized in perfect stride.
And boundless balanced forces,
cause the galaxies to swirl.
A glimpse of divinity;
lies in cosmic harmony.
For who but God can conduct
symphonies: of light and time?
"...The Secret of the Golden Flower is not only a Taoist text of Chinese yoga but also an alchemical tract. (...) it was the text of The Golden Flower that first put me in the direction of the right track." C. G. Jung
"The Golden Flower alone, which grows out of inner detachment from all entanglement with things, is eternal." Richard Wilhelm
does it bloom in the subatomic quark neuron
a flower petals deranged
burning with green rage
dark firmament pullulating infinitesimal quasars
unpeeling layers of nuclear fusions fissions
the blue-blackish greenish-blue haze
is this the eye looking at the eye
which I
between the crushed ajña-eyebrows
under eyes straining to envelope reality from afar
spotty bright grains pulsating in a velvety ink-blue-black throbbing screen
thoughts racing forwards and backwards in time
childhood slights deprivations unrevenged hurts
throbbing thriving on treacherous jabs by of-all beings friends
those who profit from taken-for-granted confidences
the women who dun-you-in
thoughts of a nature to make you hate fate
then the pulsating roving churning dismembering coalescing screen
dissolves
and in the pale fringey opening white furry stripes on the blue-black greenish bulgey bed of velvet
whose I
lights the frigid fire burning dynamo
whose eye
shrivels
reopens brightens
what is it an eye
which stares
shrinks sharper by the fractioned second
closes and opens again
and again
till the pinpoint galactic blackholing centre
bigbangs
the myriad diamondlights buoyed on a myriad-petalled dryburning flowering sun
shedding golden glory
expelling all thought or is it mere doubt
the intense unrelenting feeling of
is it joy
or a fumbling stolen fear
the mental orgasmic relief
the sense of deep other knowing power come face to face
refreshing retreading the worn-out neuron paths
then the return
after the wearinesses
or is it nonplussednesses
to this world
to words
to wars
to waste
to wickedness
a world without wonder
without womb
a world dying
dead
a tomb
see only what you should see
words see only what eyes make belief
even when words don’t mean what they see
© T. Wignesan - Paris, July 3, 1997[Revised May 2003] -from longhand notes: a binding of poems. 1997
Not to belittle the real Church of God
Not to belittle the real benefits of communion
Not to belittle kneeling and praying for a miracle
Not to belittle the laying of hands
Not to belittle a good bear hug
Not to belittle the hope of Christ’s return
Not to belittle the Wrath of God
Not to belittle the trials and tribulations of living
Not to belittle delusions of grandeur
Not to belittle the pain I feel
Not to belittle wars and rumors of wars
Not to belittle Global warming
Not to belittle the great I AM
Not to belittle the prophets of the Ages
Not to belittle Buddha’s nonthought philosophy
Not to belittle fairies in the flowers
Not to belittle the sounds that Whale’s make
Not to belittle the awe of a perfect Sunrise or Sunset
Not to belittle the Man in the Moon
Not to belittle Black Holes, Quasars and the immensity of the Universe
Not to belittle microorganisms and viruses
Not to belittle the glorious honey bee’s make
Not to belittle the missing books in the Bible that women wrote
Not to belittle the tear that trickles down my left eye
Not to belittle sin and its impact on the human soul
Not to belittle other people’s pain
Not to belittle our belief that aliens are real
Not to belittle my cat’s purring
Not to belittle my neighbor’s beautiful lawn
Not to belittle Superstar's getting rich, they deserve it
Not to belittle being just a pawn
Not to belittle the atrocities committed by Man
Not to belittle feeling so alone in the Universe
Not to belittle the pheromones of truth
Not to belittle that The End is always near
Not to belittle truth from the mouth of babes
Not to belittle Bhai's attempt to unite religions
Not to belittle the Sufi’s dance
Not to belittle the Witch’s brew
Not to belittle the Medicine of the Drum
Not to belittle my belief in Pan
Not to belittle the Heavy Metal screams
Not to belittle pipe dreams and cold sweats
Not to belittle the glow worm’s glow
Not to belittle the lion’s roar
Not to belittle when the earth quakes
Not to belittle when volcano’s blow
Not to belittle my belittling thots
but Poetry Church is all I got.
i have touched a thousand suns
danced thru constellations infinite
lost myself wrapped in galaxies dreaming
tossed mercilessly from vortex to vortex
ran amok in meteoric showers across foreign skies
hidden in the eclipse shadows
pondered beneath the northern lights
in the purple-crimson sunsets
as quasars bore down on me
all of the glory the celestial heavens offer
none compare as watching the moonlight
softly in silence coming thru the window
gracing the face asleep next to me
a demanding volcanic lunacy
held in a breathless rapture
where time ceases
a vision escaping into eternity
the moon in its adoration
of the face asleep next to me
Oregon 10/23
The twinkling stars light up the Night,
creating a magical sight.
And a rising moon starts to glow,
against the black backdrop of space.
Held in Night's ebony embrace,
Luna's light gilds the clouds below.
Visible to the naked eye,
shooting stars zip through the Night sky.
And spinning perceptively slow,
the Milky Way seems surreal;
a spiraling galactic wheel
superimposed on Night's shadow.
The twinkling stars light up the Night,
light-years away, and yet still bright.
Quasars and pulsars, twirling fast,
appear to flicker as they spin.
And once these spinning lights begin
rotating, they are unsurpassed.
The universe is God's domain:
something we can't, as yet, explain.
And we don't know how long it'll last;
for it may expand forever.
We see no end, whatsoever,
for it appears immensely vast.
Look up and behold the grandeur
of a jewel-encrusted sky,
swaddled in velvety velour.
Wabi-Sabi 12-21-23
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Wabi-Sabi
Empty the mirage of perfection
Whose shadow wears scars
Of perpetual broken rainbows –
Cracked rose petals –
Gilded edges joined by hibernation and spring.
A pilgrimage into amnesia
Timeworn victories fade into badges lost to time
Moonlight swallows the waning heart of morning
Sunlight gobbles up unfinished faces of the moon
Storms inhale fragments of sunbows.
Out of exploding ephemeral stardust broken beauty
As galaxies toss and turn creating quasars
Like waves sculpt eroding sands
In the orbit of perpetual opening ceremonies -
A journey into morphing excellence of golden seams.
And love grows to bloom then scatter rosehips
Into time’s silken wrinkles
Star born magma bows with gratitude
For unexplored shapes crafted on new shores
Where only eternity lasts forever.
If I were but a stone and you were a peach
Would you stay on your branch totally out of reach?
If I were a dandelion and you were the wind
Would you help me spread my seeds, be my dearest friend?
If I were but a seedling struggling for life in the snow
Would you be the winter sun and shine to help me grow?
Babe when I was so stoned I was totally out of reach
You offered me your heart, the sweetness of the peach
Babe when I was an evil man spreading seeds in the wind
You saw the good in me and became my dearest friend
Babe when my soul was black as night my heart as cold as snow
You opened up my heart and soul then taught them how to grow
And now just look and you and I the couple that we are
Just a couple of happy quasars shining like a single star
So never think in your life that I would ever go away
I will be right at your side until we reach our dying day
If I had but a single wish sweetheart that wish would be
Let us be in each other’s arms as we step into eternity
I did not think you knew what an azimuth was, I said to Guy.
“I am not a Neolithic,” he told me with a sniff, I know why…
Some people misjudge this brilliant child of two months past twelve.
His mind goes where others have never had the chance to delve.
What do you use it for? I asked, testing him just a bit.
“to install satellite dishes,” he said. He is a precocious little chit.
We were at the Wambuul river where the Casuarina trees grow.
Not an elegant place, but it suited us down to each toe.
Guy suggested knapping a bit of flint while we were here.
I had some of my tools so I said “of course, why not? where?”
His mind was lightyears away, for he had his brain in a book.
Reading about quasars, for his mind grabs knowledge like a hook.
Setting sail on the solar wind,
got a good photon jet stream,
so let the star voyage begin
Trillions of light-years
on the vast cosmic sea
Navigate through fierce magnetic storms,
coast through calm nebula estuaries
Quasars,
pulsars
Music of the spheres,
symphony of the stars
Watching baroque binary partners
move in their endless elliptical dance
Asteroid shoals travel in silence
across the ever expanding expanse
Taking a cruise on a star voyage,
across oceans of stars
and gentle waves of gaseous galaxies
Time enough to take time forever ...
let the universe open up to me
all of its mysteries
Looking beyond the skies, see the stars so far away.
Shining bright through the night, till one of them brings us day.
Rigel, Arcturus, and Sirius too.
Which one a red giant? Which one a massive blue?
Through the right set of eyes, you can see them up close.
Or look to the other moons, the planets,
quite gazed upon the most.
The red world, the ring world, the big orange ball.
The burning world, the ice world. Can you name them all?
Floating in this emptiness, around the sun we race.
Floating in this black void, this place we call space.
And beyond our own neighborhood there's more and there's more.
Looking above the clouds, to see what's in store.
Andromeda, the crab nebula,
the famed horse head.
So far apart in this universe,
almost forever we're spread.
There's pulsars, there's quasars, and neutron stars.
Neutrinos, and black holes, and moons covered in scars.
Comets and asteroids and big clouds of gas.
Some objects that don't seem to move at all,
and some unbelievable fast.
Looking beyond the heavens, there's just so many things.
From huge supernovae to impossibly small strings.
Every where you turn, there's always much more.
So much do discover, with an infinity to explore.
But the most amazing thing we know,
of to which the universe has given birth.
The most overlooked place of all,
the planet we call earth.
And because we're down here, and we look up there.
Just maybe, there has to be.
More life somewhere?
At night, the sky morphs into
Black velvet: its ebony
Creases glistening with stars.
Darkness engulfs a wobbly
Earth spinning on its axis,
Forever circling the sun:
Gliding silently through space,
Held in place by gravity.
Imagine: an eternal
Journey into the unknown
Kingdoms of both time and space.
Lights appear in the sky like
Magic, when the sun sets, and
Night is put on full display.
Orbiting the Earth, the moon's
Pull sets tides to ebb and flow.
Quasars spin and pulsars pulse,
Revolving at super speeds;
Sending synchronized flashes
Throughout the fabric of space.
Uranus and Mars sink, as
Venus and Neptune ascend.
While Jupiter basks in the
X-rays streaming from the sun.
Yet, seeing a shooting star
Zip through the sky: tops them all.
Moon up high, awake and beaming in white
Soft cloud smiles, watching the moonlight dancing
Behind the furs, hiding as crystal kite
Bounds in miles, prancing with stars so pleasing.
Winds so cold, peeking on wonders of light
Stars on hold, freezing with yonders of oak
Air so bold, giggling at blunders of might
Quasars unfold, circling defying-cloak.
Tarrying night lights over winds of song
Energies regained by lunar mission
Stellars and Mother light spanning so long
Clouds under sheer lights, imploring fusion.
Fueling man's vision, entities horn
Power of illusion, beauties reborn.