We can build an orrery
Yet turn the sky into a junkyard
We're abecedarian, quirky contrarian
Stare decisis from cosmic ovarian
Subaltern, suborbital
Small steps on the heavenly stairway
Pedestrian stardust walking around
Tariffing penguins to tear up the ground
But the stairway is spiral
And it's spiraling down
No escape from the gravity
Found all around
Eyes searching the cosmos
For myopic bliss
In a fallacy galaxy
Far from star-kissed
We're worst when we're first
At least in our mind
Quoting chapter and verse
From each tract that we find
On the ground underneath us
That shifts with each step
Tract's gotten infected
Yet onward we schlep
Each bearing the burden
Of truth stumbled across
When we can patch the thatch
On the roof that we've lost
In that storm of ideas
That threatened the shelter
We've built for ourselves
Unstable ideas full on the shelves
We've forgotten to look
For the beauty inside
While we're gathering dust
From under our feet
Instead of uncovering
What's come from above
While planting our hopes
In the promise of love
Fat cats are fat, that's where they're at
Their greatest ambition's to accumulate fat
Some may start small
But few will grow tall
Cause they mostly accumulate where they have sat
White stone is gleaming
Dawn is late in the day
Students are screaming
Defense of something none could name or say
Violence is teeming
A solitary voice to kill
I understood the meaning
I am dreaming still
March 14, 2026
Is it hubris or arrogance to write
as if we know it all, but deep inside
the jagged lines of life will interrupt
the smooth edges of our prose, and the night
will cast the shadows of ego aside,
as in the spider’s web we soon are cupped,
entangled in the bravado we spect
to expose in others (that in us denied),
so nirvana is poisoned and corrupt,
unlike the phoenix we will not resurrect
from the ashes of our past.
The inconvenient truth
Is that Earth’s climate is ruled by Sun
Not humans, with our engines of fire.
Earth’s systems of homeostasis
Boggle and awe the mind
That gathers the data to build its models
Of hubris.
Everywhere around us it appears
It is us who rules, in cities, fields and farms.
But when we look up at a sky of stars, wind and rain
We are reminded with wisdom and humility
Just who and what it is that actually rules
And how our job is not to control
But simply adapt and bend to change.
(10/30/25)
An empty room
Standing center stage
She waited for her cue
bassoon in hand
She breathed life into
"MI Stro" a ballad by
Piffston Grisser"
A song which curated
More than four minutes
She incorporated
" it's gotta be"
by Danny Dewmore
A very popular song
To the delight of those
In attendance and to those
Who were to view the film
The staff stood and applauded
She bowed and smiled
And then letter the stage.
I heard one saying "she wowed us"
Her male factor spoke whisper to
Her "I should be nervous to lose you
to someone who is as talented as you"
He kissed her. We found it to be romantic.
The reliance of performance allows us
To speak of you as "the deal sealer"
You have mourned in triumph to get the part!
We spoke this moment as her "monomythwhere
The bassoonist has arrived at stardom!
You spent an hour in the mirror—
I spent an hour in the bar.
Your lipstick’s a death sentence
I don’t want to serve.
I walk through these rooms,
thinking of small deaths,
wishing I had the nerve
to pack up and leave.
You think I envy your silk shirts,
your hair that floats like smoke.
But I have my own ruin to feed
with whiskey and cigarette ash.
You are not my hero,
you are not my god—
you are a billboard
I no longer want to read.
Who wanted without the knowing
And grew without the sowing
Standing there in awkward stance
Viewing all with eyes askance
Asking without reasoned why
Reaching vain to touch the sky
For in whose hands with futile grip
The beams of sun and moon doth slip
And lips that sing the lullabies
Seldom heard but often cried
It’s hubris, I suppose, down in my soul,
To think the ends will justify all means.
And thinking that all rules are drab and dull
I end up being blown to smithereens.
But truly I know what is for the best!
Thus, whispers little demons in my ears.
Consider it a type of sacred quest
And follow your own heart and not your fears!
If it can at all be done then it should.
Don’t worry about any consequence.
After all, it’s for mankind’s greater good!
How science lacks in good old common sense.
What keeps me safe in not crossing that line?
God’s good grace and the ghost of Frankenstein.
Yesterday’s ours only to muse
On, the morrow, to win or lose.
To those not knowing this,
Time gives a passing kiss--
O it pays well today to choose.
_______________________
Happenings |14.02.2025| political, pride
Note: AAP party’s chief ruled Delhi for ten long years with a strong majority only to be undone in recent elections. Reason? Hubris. He failed to learn this truth from not-so-old history: Sheela Diksheet and Indira Gandhi of Congress, even war hero Churchill, and many, this ditty seems to say.
Cancer is a paradox.
The more it grows.
the closer it comes
to taking the life of its host
and its own. So is war.
Wars go their own way,
whatever those
who start them say.
PENNILESS AT THE TOLLGATE
Wish I had a cat,
or maybe just a friend.
Mother says it's not the end,
but it is.
Reflections in the mirror,
inspections of the interior.
She's gone, I'm wrong,
and the soul can be so empty.
The milk is sour in the sink.
To wish, to think,
over the horizon the sun peeks,
the Blackbird rumbles then it roars.
A morning breeze or maybe the flap of wings
rustles the curtains.
Yes, it's certain.
The sky is not mine, it never was.
Hubris atop the Big Fish, a mighty serpent,
leaping over the waves, and the mermaids too,
thinking I saddled Old Screw.
I'm in the dirt, and it should hurt.
But I am empty, planted none too deep,
feeling little, a carrot or radish,
ready to be reaped.
A man without a spirit I am, I fear it.
A friend would be fine.
A cat? Just divine.
It would help pass the time 'til the end,
'til the end of mine.
We have come to a point in
Our history where we no longer have the ability,
Rather, the commitment to see things for what they are,
Desiring what can be imagined in our minds,
Singularly unburdened by the truth,
And disregarding what has been a proven
Lapse in judgment, and then to assert confidently, with
Artifice, and in so doing, make the unthinkable possible,
Doomed to repeat what actually happened before.
A recent quote from Kamala Harris
...Lefty just smiled at the sight,
wouldn’t have to search for the fight,
he said, “I see you want to die,
are bounties really worth your life?”
The man wore white, and smile back,
“Ain’t none faster than Randsome Jack.
I’d draw, but there is no need too
with that shotgun right behind you.”
Lefty sneered, “No need to be a jerk,
I’m not so dumb that trick will work—”
Then a cold fear came to his mind,
when two barrels pressed on his spine.
He heard the small man from the bar
say, “Both hands up, stay where you are.
My partner Jack has got the cuffs,
you make a move, this gun goes off.”
As Jack walked forth, the small man grinned,
“It was much too easy with him.
Who needs speed when they’re all so dumb,
what’s pistols to a scattergun?!”
Jack slapped the cuffs on and then laughed,
“Tonight, good whiskey, and hot baths.”
“A thousand each,” the small man said,
that was the price for Lefty’s head.
1. In matters of MATTER.
density is a function of SPACE,
and not of matter, or "things."
2. A propeller that's spinning will cut
Yet in a smaller space, the same will act as a wall
- not cut you or me, but push, or bang up against us
3. The earth is opening and closing so fast
Beneath our feet, we don't fall through
4. Think of how RADIO WAVES
come into our houses (we are diaphanous):
Yet, we're rather dense!
({land bound beings take solidity for granted, not birds; nor fish!})
shalom, shalom. E N J O Y because JOY is not isolated either. amen
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