( author of: "Zen and the art of motorcycle maintenance" + "Lila")
_____
Love is the engine of "Ingenuity". Robert Pirsig's "Quality Metaphysics" begins with the 'Moral Imperative' as art and engineering translates from psyche to laboratory - from the artistic Heart to hand.
This is the blindness of modern science (Subject/Object Metaphysics) when asked what "Dynamic Quality" is. it is The Perception Of Quality As Translated Between Those Two Mediums.
.
Passing through the fields of Punjab,
sitting behind my father on a bike,
a sensation rose in me
at the call of a Ruston engine
breathing from a mud-bricked room.
Its call sounded as if from another world,
which touched my heart
and settled there forever—
one of the most unforgettable moments
of my life.
When I grew older,
I wandered from village to village
just to hear that iron nightingale
singing in the dawns of rural Punjab.
In my wanderings I discovered
that at night its echo,
deep in the quiet fields,
was like a spotted owlet
resting in the dark.
Now its music grows rare.
But whenever it reaches my ears,
the fields return—
golden crops bending in the wind,
silver canals under the sky,
and a little boy on a moving bike
holding his father
as the villages pass.
Traveling dimensions,
My intention is the engine,
Ascension is in session.
Lessons in the stream,
Become the theme,
You seem to be seeing.
You're dreaming this being into being,
Agreeing to the terms,
As you squirm through the day.
Remember you're here to play,
To get away from your immensity.
The intensity was meant to rise,
Surprise,
God sees through your eyes.
You are the disguise,
Wise up to the power you hold,
Be bold,
It's more precious then gold.
Whoever told you different,
Feared your unique imprint.
Each instant you wait,
Prolongs your fate,
The gate is open.
I'm woven through reality,
My energy stronger then gravity,
Traveling through space and time.
My rhymes a door for you to explore,
The part of your core you're here for.
Its the source of your dreams,
Keeping us on the same team.
An energy stream,
That can't be seen,
So no one can get between,
The truth that you've seen.
knocking car engine
rocking to musical beat
threw a rod to stars
When I became a passenger bound.
With you in this way,
My engine coughed a mournful sound,
With a dim warning on the array
A check light soon blazed; your orange warning sign,
My future is futile and stark,
I feared the road, the desire to journey was no longer mine,
You could have just left me, alone in the dark
But you, you shone, a guiding grace,
beacons dispelling doom,
Your high beams lit my weary face,
And chased away this mind's lowly gloom
You showed me paths I couldn't see,
Beyond doubt and fear,
Destiny belongs to me,
A reason to be here
The road stretched out,
a silver thread,
Unfurling in the light,
Purpose had been gently led,
Burned ever clear; exemplary bright
You changed my sparkless perspective
Becoming a repair so effective
My soul now lives by directive
As your happiness became our collective
Feeling loved, now we drive on,
The engine hums like new,
I'm a passenger, where hope's our bond,
Because I traveled with you
Just because you can
Doesn’t mean you should
I told the little engine that could
Don’t be a jerk
Just because they are
Be an example be a star
(detail from "Methow Water", 2024, original encaustic)
Hallucination Engine
Whatever we touch
Morphs
Into a reflection
Of the toucher
And so it is
With all senses
Each reflecting
Our sense
Of self
No other but
An engine of creativity
In ever changing
Display
(2/4/24)
Diagonal snow
Glides effortless through
the countryside of the
Amputee windshield
For the passenger side
Has always had a reticent view
Steam rises loftily
From a topless treat
Of gas station coffee
That which further
Obfuscates the scene
Mousey and silent
Each flake falls
Like the wings of
An owl unhurried
Speckling the air
With flurries of tiny
Feathers
If snow is a blanket, is the
Earth a frightened child?
Is there a force, a specter
So haunting it summons
A crystal storm that beguiles,
Sure, a burden to some
But a spectacle for all.
High beams undress
The night, slipping away
Its silken onyx sundress
In its unblinking gaze I
Recall conversations with
Someone I no longer see
Hoping for fireplace romance
Surrounded in snow globe scenery
I try not to live
in the squall of regret
Even if every drop
Falls so softly, I must
Simply keep my foot
On the petal, and listen
To the engine’s counsel
Its kind whispering pistons.
Nobody know where it came from
just that one very wet foggy day
it emerged from some thick fog
moving very slowly and alone
It was blue but had a dark chimney
that glittered like a bowl of diamonds
A window that was surrounded by gray
And honey colored wheels that were connected
by a gray bar and in back was a glittering door
Once the rain stopped somebody stepped out
with trays of cookies for everyone with smiles on
their faces and aprons wrapped around them
Then they rwalked away and were heard shouting
"Enjoy!" as the little blue engine left
Charles Babbage
The full package
His invention tidal bore
Led to computers galore!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
2nd place: ABCD Clerihew - 4 Lines contest; Sponsored by Joseph May
The car's engine Fred often fires.
He. simply, first checks the car's tires
And off moves, tires spitting fires:
Tubular rollers end up criers;
Traffic wardens with their "Stop!" liars:
Fred at what he loves never tires!
The strength Free Fred uses he hires
From booze and kola sold by Mires...
After three months Fred's Benz for buyers!
Often worse than cars long in mires.
Here’s a fire engine, my husband said.
Sure, I used to want one, and in red.
But I am now older, and wiser too.
I don’t want that anymore, you foo!
But honey, you always wanted one.
Sure, when I was eight, that dream is done.
He is always trying to please, this man of mine.
In a way, that is sweet, his attitude fine.
But my wishes have changed, my toys are new.
Expensive now, dealing with arthritis too.
I am enjoying compression socks,
Not marbles, trucks or a doll that talks.
I have outgrown fancy clothes, and jewelry now.
Where is my acid reflux pill? I take a little bow.
I gave away my Christmas stuff, too much work.
I don’t want a fire engine, I say with a jerk.
I want warm food, electricity and pumpkin pie.
I want to have my relatives visit once before I die.
My toys are simple, I buy what I need, but do not waste.
I like paints, glitter, canvases, and decoupage paste.
A fire engine? Sure, maybe I wanted one once upon a time.
But I have all the toys I need now, darling husband, of mine.
You are wonderful, honey. Thank you for thinking of me.
Please don't put a fire engine under this tiny tree!
Fire-engine
Now that it is autumn going towards winter
I often think about morbid things to avert this
I think of what I liked as a child.
The sound of the fire engine rushing through
the town; ran after it and felt heroic.
Often the fire was far away when I got there
it was too late; the fire had been small
rubbish burning in junkyard sot on a wall.
Firemen, rolling up their hoses, they
were called that, now they are firefighters
to make it more inclusive, mind you, I have
never seen a female among them, I knew
there were women at the fire-house.
I went there to have mother’s kitchen knives
sharped; they deftly wrote on typewriters.
I was going to be a fireman, they looked so
tall and tough, spitting manly.
Alas, a few years down the line, they grew smaller.
We are engines
not autonomous,
we need for
safe driving
two engines....
mine and yours..
My dear !
That's how we work. !
She thinks she can and chugs along where vistas dip and swell;
A rush of steam, a puff of smoke, a whistle and a bell.
Gonna buy me a haircut and polish up my boots
When that pretty little engine comes to town.
The miles speak more of landmarks passed than merely distance run;
The hiss and clatter, music gained, not quietude undone.
Gonna tune me a banjo and play it in the pines
When that pretty little engine comes to town.
She thinks she can, and so she does and rolls across the land.
Her brakes might squeak like nails on slate, but stop her on command.
Gonna grab me a ticket and really go in style
When that pretty little engine comes to town.
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