We were both operating together,
vibrating at an oscillating frequency -
short-band radio signals reaching
no greater than brief steps away.
It was love, but it was also that infinitesimally
narrow gap between heaven and hell.
A bulbous red on/off button,
the size of a large tomato or small planet,
kept our brains alert
to any nuclear explosions
that might otherwise have destroyed
those thin strings of real intimacy we could
have accidently blundered into.
In the end, slips of the tongue
led to neither truth nor lies,
only figures of speech.
Friends and on-lookers
watched as we turned off
all the early warning signs, one by one -
then to no one's great surprise,
we were done.
Imaginary beings have been imagining.
Ghosts, like moths, see only your flickering flame.
Dark desires are the unborn you give life to,
they are motes in your reflecting mirror-mind,
hot embers so infinitesimally small,
that they can hide a lifetime
in the pupil of one eye.
Imaginary beings offer a certain reality,
they give thanks to all your secrets,
make love to the weight of your desires,
then, return to that fantasy persona
to reimagine you once more
as a comic book hero,
one only the purest of heart
may read.
The naked ape has no robes,
no crown on kingly head
with arrogance that astounds.
The beastly fear is of being
unthroned by artificial intelligence
it created to boosts its power,
on the third planet from its puny sun
which is just a speck of dust, a grain of sand
in the array of billions of stars
on the beach and dirt of the universe.
The naked ape claims to
know all there is to know about everything
despite its infinitesimally small size,
influence and consequence.
The emperor has no clothes,
and there's nothing or no one,
here or out there,
to tell the king of beasts
otherwise.
Today, October 13, 2021, William Shatner
went where few men have gone before.
He entered space on Jeff Bezos’ Blue Origin.
Thin Blue Line
thin blue marker
we think it’s phat
we live by the blue sky
by the earth’s green
it’s where we’re at
Shatner shattered
so very fast
his inner universe
blown, by
the exclamatory
sensation
life here on this
puny planet—
well lit, colorful…
blowing kisses
a masterpiece
life and death
quickly experienced
there was light
then there was dark
we carry ourselves
as burdens,
living large
yet
we are infinitesimally
small
God
is infinitesimally
large
yet
he knows the count
of each one’s hair
shall we challenge
him to a duel?
possibility of winning—
futile
shall we grasp
the hem of his garment—
the thin blue line?
adoration, satisfaction,
salvation, divine
10/13/2021
The silence hurt
The empty hours
Aching to be filled
With meaningful activity
With encouraging words
The office abandoned
The empty desks
Unread bookcases
Files to be scrutinised
Would things ever revert?
The hubbub of colleagues
The banter in the corridor
The incidental exchange of ideas
The shared insights on the whiteboard
The feeling of team
A form of family
All a distant memory
Not a worthy competitor
Not a godforsaken war
Not a foreign power
But an infinitesimally small
Invisible enemy
Out of nowhere
Has changed everything
Causing a revolution
In the path of evolution
Economy thwarted
Jobs lost
Education abandoned
Caught us all by surprise
Made us hunker in our homes
Afraid to come out
Hiding behind screens
Hiding behind masks
Scrubbing hands religiously
Avoiding those we hold dear
Each interpreting the guidelines differently
Applying tailored logic
Trust breached
Will life ever return to where it was?
Imagine that you could alter reality:
and let your imagination reduce you
to a tiny, itty-bitty, microscopic cell;
inside the human body.
Your world would be a strange one indeed:
reduced to a single cell,
afloat in a sea of plasma;
teeming with white hunter-cells,
and blood-red corpuscles.
Now, let yourself shrink down even further;
to an atom, complete with a halo of electrons
that is paradoxically attracted and repelled
by the core of your being.
A singularity,
you're a microscopic universe
onto yourself.
You're now the foundation of reality,
an essential building block of life.
Yet, you're so infinitesimally small,
that you're oblivious to
the big picture;
which, but for you, would not exist.
A photon wave, I lighten the broadest vista,
not a nook that has ever contained me,
unable to choose between two dark eyes
my ripples enter both simultaneously
striking but one heart, I'm free.
One light is all that can exist
and though I am but a fragment
the chance of you not surfing
my expanding disturbance of space-time
is infinitesimally small.
Let us rejoice then however many times
our reflected waves may interfere
and celebrate our massless voyage
that always reaches outward,
diffracted at times but determined.
To stay the course our heart's desire,
our memories will last as long as
God still looks to future days,
recognizing in our tiny spark,
the birth of universes He has yet to dream.
So, you and I live on in time,
how could one dream forget another,
what God has joined with, in His heart,
cannot be torn asunder,
for as He Is, I Am, and You Are - always mine.
Brian Johnston
May 28,2017
Infinitesimally scaled people
Of the forgotten planet
Pitter patter the surface of their planet.
Almost atomic in demeanor!
Though bulldozered many times over.
They mutilate, bleed,
Their infected flesh ooze with green.
Infinitesimally scaled people
Of the forgotten planet,
Live their lives
Scavenging from the
Garbage Bins.
Infinitesimally scaled people
Of the forgotten planet
Look upon the vaulted sky and
Pray
To be remembered!
Once in a while,
perhaps
On their national remembrance day!
Infinitesimally scaled people
Of the forgotten planet
Cry real tears like us human beings!
Their offspring are reared on mother’s milk.
The floor under their feet creaks;
Unfamiliarity creeps into their existence!
So they freak and hit the streets
Living on the cardboard scraps again!
They shave and shower on the streets!
Infinitesimally scaled people
Of forgotten planet
Inject themselves with opium like
Substances!
Sometimes they trip and sometimes they expire!
The seashore lets through cracks of light
And is the cradle of a bird in endless flight
Loss to the bounds of sea and sky
Plummeting and barreling through invisible doors
Hoping to always reach a higher epiphany of being
The seashore is the entrance way to all of this and more
As I stand with my feet in the sand
And beckon the gods to show me all that they are
The shells made of infinitesimally tiny glittering particles
Open up their eyes and open their souls
Asking me to trace their loving back into the beginning of time
We are mere children of the void.
Specks on an infinitesimally small mote in limitless space.
Lost by size, overlooked by indifference. A universe indifferent to our existence. The stars will shine, the planets will spin regardless of our future.
We are children who have a high opinion of ourselves, think we talk to God. Presumptuous beyond belief.
Yet, we are children on the verge of a pivot of unimaginable scope into infinite knowledge or total oblivion. It all hangs on a thread. The next few years will determine if we all slide into the depths of non existence with nor a sigh from the universe, or transform into the Seers, watching the birth of intelligence on a galactic scale. What a pivot indeed!
Like islands and continents on the sea
The essence of space stretches for infinity
They are of transcendent beauty
And can be made to divine majesty
As non linear equations knowledge transverse
They are but infinitesimally small part of Omni-verse
But even if they be what they are to zero to the Omni-verse
Even than using those with true divine one could not converse
But I’m of conclusion
That what essence of space is to normal fusion
They would be to Omni-verses’ greatest secret of them all
That essence would be a mirror to the soul
Like a threads of crystal silk
Spreading the cosmos like spilled milk
This is greatest power in Omni-verse
With witch with God one can converse
The complexities of colors of nebula are surreal
But real beauty is what your spirit can feel
Stronger than titanium or steel
The ideal soul of the divine it will reveal
Una or Death, Life : 1, Translation of Pierre Emmanuel’s Una ou la mort, la vie by T. Wignesan
Sometimes he wonders what good a poem can be
Of course in his case doubting is blasphemy
An absurd benumbing of life
In truth, what good can a poem serve
Where all the overpopulated deaf people despite noises
Make believe that they listen in to him
The only thing which matters is the heart beating against
The ear-drums and becomes the organ of hearing
The heart which spreads in a stellar network
The beat maintained in the finest capillaries
Infinitely infinitesimally
The ubiquitous unit of life : Poetry.
* According to Anne-Sophie Constant, Una ou la mort, la vie (first book in Livre de l’homme et de la femme, just as the other two books in the trilogy : Duel and L’Autre, all in twelve lines), the poems are untitled, but numbered.
(Una ou la mort, la vie, O. C. t. II, p. 733)
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2014
how can a speck of dust
comprehend the universe
in all its glory and majesty
I am at times beyond overwhelmed
past the point of feeling my smallness
infinitesimally minute barely even a presence
and yet you have generated
a wonder beyond anything
I could possibly feel outside of
a magnitude of gratitude
for the minuiscule perception of glory
you have taken dust
and congealed a realization
that gives light to life
and touched even the broken
with a glimpse of paradise
of a grace that even in our brokenness
that you could reach deeply
beyond all that an eye can see
and touch the hidden
that we have fortressed
and sheltered and not allowed
violence of nature or men to touch
for only your divine purity
and innocence will we
even allow to enter this room
COPYRIGHT © 2014 C Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC
Tears raining
From the spring in my eyes.
Unspoken words
Choking my throat.
Thoughts
Infinitesimally giant
Splitting the guts in my brain...
The earth is not mine
But so it seems...
The leaves won't
Be forever green
The fauna won't
Forever shed skin.
Cos for sure
An end comes to all...
Injustice
Crime
Gluttony
Philandering
War...
Even...
... Charity
... Goodness
... Happiness
... Wealth
... Victory...
All shall cease...
But me...
Will I cease to exist?
Yes
No...
In people's minds
In their lives
In my deeds
In my records
Pure and untainted...
... Yes...
On the earth
In reality
On the field...
...No... I cease...
So why not I make
The Yes worth its while?
Why not build
My record stainlessly?
Since I shall cease
As shall do the earth
Just as chalk
On a classroom board...
On the sunshine coast
the waving tides, sending
the gestures of sweet love
cool breeze manifested into a beautiful girl
blows a kiss on the cheek
the wide ocean infront bestowed peace
to this unrest mind.
swinging the heart in infinite thoughts.
Infinitesimally small seems
the worries of the world.
By the whispers of the wind
the silence was broken.
sand in my hand slipping
reminds me of the late hour
sluggish mind speaks
why should I ever leave this place?
ever can I find this heaven on earth
I promised myself I will be back
and walked back home
on the sandy beach, slow.
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