I’m sitting on the edge of time
For just a disembodied pause,
While pointed hands o’er rounded chime
Obey the pendulum’s swayed cause.
Where kinetics’ course is lastly laid,
Comes forth the pointing to a door
That opens wide. Be not afraid,
I think, to thereupon explore.
And there I search the sea, in stay,
For those few drops that speak of me.
Below a crystal clouded day,
I look for cause and clarity.
But deep inside, my inner clock
Is calling forth its metered rhyme.
Inclined I am to learn like Locke,
I’m also tuned by trembling tine.
The edge of time is thinner than
The fairest maiden’s finest hair,
Yet broader is the settled plan
That puts us just exactly there.
Oh to live in the pulse of the sun and feel blessed
and smell the sweet scent of a flower's in-chide
to inhale all the power of summer's attest
and exhale it towards God's ambrosial tide
To bathe in the peace of the stars during night
and flow with the light of the dawn like a kite;
To course through the heavens and never lose sight,
one must sound out the trumpet of summer's respite;
To dream by the oak and awake by the sea
when August has ripened and turned Jubilee
you must enter dominion of summer's delight
and live in the rapture of candescent light
Oh to live and to love one must first learn to kiss,
the kinetics of summer, with eternal bliss.
A banjo is playing in the bodega.
A door proclaims its ding and dong
voltaic birds bounce to its tintinnabulum,
flickers of auricular featherings
wipe shelves of a million years of dust.
The banjo is at prayer and you are there
as you peal with its cadence and quiver.
The bodhisattva
they that dynamo the sonic tides,
the waves,
air waves, sounding and soundless,
who sparkle
in the high deep heavens
and in the low wallows
where ankles are the muddy roots
of wind chimes and cow bells.
Sounds unleashing
the knelling thunder of peace.
Alabaster hands poised in mid-air
signaling an elemental perfection.
The kinetics of gesture and stillness,
as doors open their choiring mouths,
as banjos mimic the sounds
of all practicing avatars,
and we hearing
only the ding yet missing the dong
unthinking un-ring Gods temple gong.
attaching himself
to her bliss
to a place
not much more higher than this
longing
yet obtuse
with creations
relying on kinetics
embracing its essence
all to be discontinued.
The tic-toc in a cuckoo clock is but the static of quartz,
A piezoelectric pizzazz that strokes until the pressure shorts.
Did you know that your callused skin produces the same effect,
As the lattice of the precious stone that circuits a clock's kinetics?
WORD OF THE DAY: ETHICS
Science and Engineering have benefitted immensely from PHYSICS
Another major concept that has hastened aeronautics is KINETICS
But science is itself a noble profession with its values and ETHICS
Scientists are neither known for oratory prowess nor PHONETICS
Yet they have produced drugs that are as effective as ANESTHETICS
All these and many more were attained with or without AESTHETICS
© Wole Popoola 2016
To believe it or not,
In my lifetime
Marches on
Or off with your head,
To toe nail,
The coffin close,
The open door,
Way to,
Believe it or not…
There is relativity theory
String theory
Quantum mechanics theory
Sub quantum kinetics theory
Energy rods pulsate in their states
Kaleidoscope of thousand such states
Caries the power to control very fates
There is great power behind those gates
There are many theories that try to verse
One true path of universe
The one that with God would allow us to converse
Which if any is right is a question in that many their souls would immerse
But all we truly know
Is there are many things we don’t know
Our knowledge does grow
But we don’t realize what we do know
It is just a droplet in a sea
But if theory of everything we could see
What would be?
Its majesty
But would the world be boring after we know
Because there be nothing else to know
And importance of things would be last year’s snow
Or would everything be more beautiful because we know
But this would not just be feast fit for a king
This would be higher than angel in heaven would sing
This would be something that dream to life would bring
If we knew theory of everything
Words spring cryptic
Yet disruptive
In kinetics
That surge massive
Words play around
To create tense
In thought and sound
That feel makes sense
Words seem to know
How to be found
As taut lines flow
In certain grounds
Words make a stand
In verse stanzas
As if to tend
New agendas
Words stretch and reach
A common state
To lure and leach
A knowing fate
Leon Enriquez
06 December 2014
Singapore
Heart's throbbing for discothèque
airwaves,
pulsating electronica polyphonics--
rolling;
waterless waves splash
everyone present.
Motionless reminiscence of Ibiza
and surrealism, triple-distilled,
aesthetic kinetics--
and men and women sweating from the vibes.
Each limb plays to the dynamics of motion
in static vibration the virgin flower
awaits cravings within the tattoo touches
and surrenders to her animal instincts.
Wild fingers douse her with raptures of pain
tricking off curves with aspiring lines
provoking flood gates to drip with quivers
as the lycan-beast over power's her whim.
Together they are flamed with insane desire
bursting, buckling with energy and passion
toasted with love enjoys her total submission
reaching out for the skies in her moans and cries.
Within the split second her potentials change
for she bursts to burn to the fluid kinetics:
I know one day I will be a star.
My hard works will shine bright and far.
My fans will appreciate my aesthetics,
And my rhythmic kinetics.
I'm sick of people saying that I have potential.
I think they are jealous and sometimes resentful.
I know that some think that I can be replaced,
But there is no star like me of any creed or race.
Me-a star.
I will go far,
In the galaxy,
Of my own.
Me- a star.
I will shine,
Bright with cheer.
Me- a star.
Being here in my own,
Galaxy,
I will have no fear.