here I stand waiting
balanced on the edge of time
past draped at my back
the future creases forward
a bloom yet to be folded
creases cross the sheet
the past bends, then re-creases
future folds to match
both entwine though never meet
a puzzle time enlightens
like petals rising
origami takes its form
each wedge takes its place
a flower blooms in the room
unfurling in happenstance
paper remembers
each valley, each mountain path
trails of where I've been
ghosts of futures not yet lived
hidden in the pleated sedge
tilted polygons
wedges stacked in helical
time loops on itself
a structure both flat and vast—
endless bloom of folded space
each crease is a breath
a moment held in silence
each fold, a new path
unfolding from edge of time—
flowers blooming come alive
our lifearchitecture is helical,
she remains unbalanced,
missing the central angle.
the staggering spiral,
descend from altitude and plummet.
it's a spring that rolls like a ball,
plops on the main equilateral
in the exact center of the core of this city
that only causes the unhappy in us and the evil.
(they were promises they made
those responsible but not.
promised that each street a direction,
that every corner a life.
they saw us saved
in tunnels under the avenues.
they told us safe
in dungeons, stockades and walls.
they forgot we are a lot of faith and meager brains
forgot that we only know how to get worse).
In the semi-arid suburb, Medina,
A high pitch of sound echoed.
It dopplered through misty shrubs.
A helical dawn goes tidally.
The Pathfinder: stepped,
deep nodded, starry-eyed,
Scarfed fragrant keffiyeh.
Reeled a full throttle of forgiven,
Headed to his students.
The teaching of liberty,
Primed course of life.
INVENTIONS
ARE THE MATERIALIZATION
OF THE IMAGINATION.
IMAGINE...
IF YOU WILL...
A SMARTPHONE
THE SIZE
OF A GRAIN OF RICE.
IMPLANTED
IN YOUR HEAD.
WITH ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE
AND CONNECTIONS
TO SUPER COMPUTER
SATELLITES
ORBITING THE EARTH.
ANSWERING QUESTIONS
FASTER
THAN THE SPEED OF LIGHT.
GRAPHENE LENSES
COVERING YOUR EYEBALLS
PROJECTING IMAGES
FOR VISUAL ASSISTANCE
AND FOR THE VISUALLY IMPAIRED.
IMAGINE FREQUENCIES
REVERBERATING
BACK AND FORTH
BETWEEN YOU
AND THE UNIVERSE.
CREATING VISUALS
OF GALAXIES
2.5 MILLION
LIGHT YEARS REMOVED.
IMAGINE...
TRAVELING
TO THE EDGE OF QUASARS.
ADVENTURING
INTO AND THROUGH
BLACK AND WHITE HOLES
WITH OUT FEAR.
EXPLORE DARK MATTER.
EXPERIENCE
THE FRAGRANCE AND TASTE
OF COSMIC DUST.
COMMUNICATE
WITH A DEGENERATE DWARF.
VISIT AND MINGLE
WITH A BROWN DWARF.
UNDERSTAND
HOW AND WHY
THEY ARE CONSIDERED
THE UNDERACHIEVERS
OF THE UNIVERSE.
FEEL THE ENERGY OF
THE UNIVERSE.
EXPLORE THE THEORY
OF MAGNETIC STRUCTURE
OF MATTER.
COMPREHEND AND UNDERSTAND
THE HELICAL SOLAR SYSTEM.
COMPLEMENTS OF YOUR
FUTURE SMARTPHONE.
Michael E. Harris
08162021
Fate deals forty-six chromosomal cards
at birth to players of human poker.
Sometimes she throws in a surprise joker
or stacks honors flush with her kind regards.
Her suits are four nucleotide bases,
forming pairs in a helical tableau.
Their arrangements determine which traits show.
Culture marks us as deuces or aces.
Four hundred years we played games of false rank,
where white races unfairly trump others.
Our cards can’t be changed. We can change the game.
Maybe the winner might not be the bank,
if we would play as sisters and brothers.
Dirty deals redden us with rage and shame.
Unsmiling gray wisp fingers drift and bore
A helical ridge around the vast sky;
Down abutting poignant horizon floor.
Alga blooms a huffy infectious cry.
A tree hollow bears nestling hanging high.
Lively songbird-swallows touched by the stir
Swift cry, swell and disappear till late by-
Passing hours of summer ruffling shower.
In a warm sleeping bag in a small tent,
Newlyweds lounge engaged with sweet hush sound
And lambent flame. Could not be better spent,
To wake with the morning dawn bodies wound.
In the open, they lie there, on their camp site,
Beneath the infinite clear twilight night.
written on 4/7/2020
Ambient Music N/A Serenity- In Scenes Of Mother Nature -Chantelle Anne Cooke Yes 4/9/2020 4:12:00 PM
N/A , Judged on 5/6/2020 for the contest
"Serenity In Scenes Of Mother Nature"
N-A Re-Run 8 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: John Hamilton
I am dead to many, a few are dead to me.
I am not forgotten
by girls in green silk sarongs,
(though those also might be dead,
or dead to me,
for in my dreams
they still pour me out like tea.
Some dead have tiptoed over a cliff,
their lips forever duct-taped together
a falling silence yet to land.
Some I fish for in sunny Koi ponds,
they surface but never take my bait.
The dead are still drunk on themselves,
as I am.
My reconstructed world is shrinking,
memories stiffening.
I throw down a rope made of helical vines,
haul up the dead,
breathe life into my own mouth.
In this blank space of time the universe of ideas grows infinity;
The Master Piece never came to be, another prevision without calculate the harm;
Even though we not going anywhere, it is coming for us;
Remember in Cambridge times crossed like the line in meridian for ages;
Surprised by the helical light and suspended by the night the disguised dark flash;
Ability to the engineering, geniussnely to the Observer: non miss-taken reasons.
Existence is doubts for all, allowing it the events and facts;
The messenger of dreamers: let go off limited directions for the better coexistence.
A helical "Slinky" type coil
Compresses or springs without toil,
It’s spiral at times,
Or stretched to the nines...
Like worms that are happy in soil!
Beneath or on top of the ground,
They stretch, but so often lie wound,
Their tunnels air earth
To make healthy dirt
And seedlings are glad they’re around!
February 21, 2015
Premiere Contest: Spiral
Sponsor: Kai Michael Neumann
This transmission is always meshed
Rotating gears of helical threshed
A dog clutch and synchronic ring
Engaging gears this fork in swing
Fourth, Third, second and first
Gears are changed at a burst
Just remember the letter H
When you move that stick
These gears don't grate
Shafts keep turning counter and main
Both can incorporate gears to twain
Idle and helical turning together
Select reverse, it’s truly clever
First, second, third and fourth
The dog clutch slides back and forth
Just select the one you need
Synchronized to match that gear's speed
So don’t forget this grand design
These gearboxes' built with smooth in mind
The next time you hear that crunchy sound
Just bear in mind your synch’s been ground
It’s only you not de-pressing that clutch
Firmly down, not double dee Dutch
So make this process smooth as can be
Then your transition will be sweet harmony
© Copyright K.C.Leake
17th October 2014
All Rights Reserved
amidst the circular, infinitely lateral depths,
a blinding, stark sliver finds consciousness;
erupting forth from the inverted arterial cascade
in arching pathways dimensionally untied
by helical vacuum vortices.
spiralling into a unique interpretation,
etched in nothing, tracing contours,
simulating substance, expanding and contracting;
held forever-more in a blind copy, apparently real,
yet in final calculation, a divisor effectively zero.
ryan thomas '10
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