LOCUS
In that space
I knew, silence
I knew, ugliness
She pulled on her bow
The silhouette of muscle
Under flesh
The sound
Of a million breaths
All, a singularity
A locus, our universe blooms
A medium
For understanding
The true measure of beauty
Who, has seen what I see
Who, has heard what I hear
So much courage is willed to the senses
Such is our obsession to witness
I have known true beauty in the simplest of things
Yet, been wounded by it's presence, but once
roc
Jacqueline du Pré - cellist
(26 January 1945 – 19 October 1987)
lo·cus
'lok?s
noun
1.
TECHNICAL
a particular position, point, or place.
2.
MATHEMATICS
a curve or other figure formed by all the points satisfying a particular equation of the relation between coordinates, or by a point, line, or surface moving according to mathematically defined conditions
No object in focus, where can we go,
by shifting our coordinates in space,
with there being nothing we need to know,
so still in the void, imbibing God’s grace,
vibrations take sensory input’s place,
where heart’s all afire but without desire,
since poised in peace, there’s nothing we aspire.
learning, reasoning, knowledge representation, planning, perception, and natural language processing, using techniques from logic, statistics, neural networks, and psychology to a spacetime metric:
, requiring exotic matter with negative energy density.
.....Qualitative discussion......He say: she say: she interrupt and they say......(hole up) we say!
cursing is linked to or tied to a protected
characteristic, and creates a hostile or
intimidating environment.
he warp drive metrics, in a Cartesian type coordinate chart
are given by the line element:
X, Y, and Z are the components of a
vector field defined in Euclidean 3-space.
This is a function of the coordinates.
Alcubierre (see bibliography) used,
as the first mathematical example
of a warp drive, the function:
Dorktah Redweird Fecker
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Dr. Redweird Fecker
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Twangy Dobro and Wah-Wah Effect
-----------------------------------------
------------------------------------------
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God, when the mother's cry
arrives—do You hear
the shape before the sound?
The phonemes of her grief,
or merely what they stir?
You hear
the way December hears a leaf:
as afterthought.
You frost
what begs for spring.
We are Your coordinates for cold.
Days
move slower
Then an evaporating
Puddle
Watching clouds
float by
I look for
Meaning
In my
coffee grinds
thoughts
Fly
Like geese
Far from here
My feet
Forever magnetized
40.01 n
75.1 w
Time
for new
Coordinates
Adjacent profits are gained in purchase of information
Non profit lobby hides, assemblies
And congressional lobby laborers
Caught in data shortage
Corrupt a report purchasing shares of
Corruptible budget items
Obstructing legislation
Creating false pretense for arrest
Arrest of defined confine
The hide
The title
The bonds ageing interest
Non profit
Must eat here at specified time
In thousand oaks California
Only at eves Arch, after days end
In Ventura at Catholic charities
The food reception is all day Charity
And none are required
Available coordinates for investigative
Journalists
Publicly available languages
true coordinates
nodes of fate and destiny ~
reckoning for life
we were asleep
now we are partly awake
with living light of Self known
yet final assimilation awaits
for awakening full blown
the coordinates are recognised
accepting work in progress
presence calm like a lake
in time stretched silence waits
for God’s benign touch to awake
Despite the bellowing of loved ones,
you've chosen to go it alone.
Thus far you've had immunity to folly and mishap.
Now you're long overdue, but nobody knows.
You've left no itinerary nor coordinates.
There'll be no search and rescue
upon that avalanche of arrogance.
The pickaxe has slipped from your hand.
Sliding into the sweet blackness.
Days layer upon a twist of broken bones.
Blue ice licks its own thickness into a groan.
You've reached the black pinnacle of the purist, alone.
Under a robin's egg sky upon the throat of icy cliffs.
The alpinists ascend a blizzard of sorrow and bliss.
Sowing a string of prayer flags into the white heart soul of spirit pass.
The message was clear.
But I did not arrive.
Something took me—
quietly.
Held me hostage
in a battlefield
without coordinates.
Echoes detonated
from inside,
each doubt a buried mine
I stepped on
without moving.
Fear didn’t shout—
it infested,
dripping into the marrow,
slow and precise.
There were no weapons,
only aftermath.
No fight,
only surrender
masquerading as endurance.
The scars remain—
but even they
refuse to speak.
the waters divide
lovers are marooned
one at head, other at heart
between them looms
desert of desire
magnetism connects
all scattered coordinates
whispered in strobes of silence
reassuring yet falling short
of love’s tender embrace
shape shifting soul
slides into thought cessation
transmuting as the space element
whereupon as boundaries blur
the two become one again
“Know that which has form to be false, that which is formless to be eternal.
Through the instruction of this truth there is no longer rebirth into this world.”
ephemeral is the manifest universe
held in the womb of boundless space
love in the heart has no need to rehearse
the dance divine being release and embrace
bliss pheromones tingle when our eye is single
all that that then is is the heartbeat of God
in the vast vibrant void polarities mingle
as scattered dust gives love a nod
joy of union and pang of separation
imparts wisdom on the wandering soul
entwined with formlessness and creation
at all coordinates remains blissful and whole
all that that then is is God consciousness alone
why then oh hermit should we have any fear
recognition of truth is the way to atone
within this illusion all forms are dear
we’re born alone and die alone
these two coordinates are fixed
betwixt these points, few souls heart hone
the rest in trance remain transfixed
what comes and goes is unreal
yet we trauma bond with desire
why does light before darkness kneel
save God’s light, what’s there to aspire
If we are to reach heaven’s gates,
lets first plot the coordinates;
we are within space-time confined,
in bondage to senses and mind.
In life, fears and desires assail,
no wonder then, we tend to fail,
floundering about, like the blind,
in bondage to senses and mind.
In a trance deep, we are asleep;
ignorance causes heart to weep.
On a bed of thorns, soul’s reclined,
in bondage to senses and mind.
The truth is we’re God’s light and bliss
yet seek not Divine Mother’s kiss.
From pulse of love we’re misaligned,
in bondage to senses and mind.
Panther calling Kestrel-- over
No response
Panther calling Kestrel-- over
No response
Panther calling Kestrel, time is critical--over
No response
Kestrel calling Panther, break in comms, big spinning top is taking us into wintertime, you are among friends, sending new coordinates-- over
No response
Kestrel calling Panther--over
No response
Panther this is Kestrel, data coming in now, need immediate sitrep-- over
Panther, calling Kestrel, 19 confirmed, 4 casualties, 4 walking-- over
Kestrel to Panther, go silent--over. (F**K)
Kestrel, calling Panther-- over
Panther -- over
They were friendlies, need to put this down to a bad day at the office, it happens, passing upstairs to hats. Wait out.
Kestrel calling Panther— over.
Panther-- over
Status has now changed, this is no longer a friendly country.
Repeat this is no longer a friendly country, previous sitrep reads, 27 confirmed. Is this correct-- over
Panther–- correct-- over
OK Panther– suggest immediate sabbatical. The big bus is waiting.
Kestrel to Panther__ out.
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