Long Membranes Poems
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Wondering upon our almost forgotten smiles
and twinkling eyes hidden,
we have spun this world
in smoke and mirrors,
reflecting light in curving waves.
We have wandering
into the misty fog
as it marched
out of clear air
on a perfect night
to become rooted
in the moss upon which we dream,
seizing that ethereal ground like honey
under winter's veil.
Perhaps it explains why
that which spins in you
is foreign to me,
sometimes,
and yet somehow
a thread of it loops around my heart
and tugs,
as familiar as kin,
or friends too long apart.
And I realize how deeply
you reflect the same light
that I've known uncounted
for a thousand years
times a thousand more.
I feel the stretch of this flaxen fulfillment
and hear its golden tone humming
as it lengthens.
Sometimes too loose to vibrate
the membranes
of our soup-can telephones.
So that even though we both speak
in muted carefully hesitant tones,
our words slip away into space
and only the stars know the songs we sing.
Bellowed out like whales in an empty sea,
only by chance refracted into a hearing ear,
that begins to understand
and then lapses into slumber again.
Even as magnificently we harmonize
beyond the dark face of the hidden moon at midnight,
we hear not each others callings,
and even less often see them dancing.
Except perhaps
in the limelight of our hearts sweet glow
where I know we live.
So it is odd to feel
this familiar twist
of an old theme
of distant overtures not really knowing
what note should follow
the one that follows
the one that is yet unwritten.
It just floats there unresolved,
sometimes aching for nothing at all,
other than the illusion of being.
Yet sometimes aching for the grace
to say softly, the love that floats here
in my heart for you,
without trying to enchant an echo.
Just to freely blow that kiss
into free space knowing
that is enough to be received
by the one that is.
And given by that one too,
to itself.
And so I reflect upon that flow
I have named you,
and wish it good journey,
knowing we are both leaf and river.
Masters of the helm
we sometimes do not steer
and only at the mercy
of the sea we will not tame.
What theory unifies forces, weak, strong,
With gravity— also, to which belong
All the string theories of why and because?
To answer these queries, M-theory does.
Proponents aver it offers clarity
As to the issue of singularity.—
Where there’s a will there’s a way,
So they say…
In the beginning our universe sprang
From membranes colliding to cause a Big Bang…
Hence matter and energy stem from vibrations of strings seen by seers
In a music of spheres.
One mode of vibration, or ‘note’, makes the string an electron,
Another a photon…
And what of Higgs-boson?
There’s even a mode for the graviton, thought to have gravity’s force.
So vibrating strings would then be the source
To create tiny articles which we call
Elementary particles— one and all.
Dimensions— four plus compactified seven—
Equal a total that’s oddly eleven…
To wit, though string theories wound up at the tenth,
They had to add one more that’s odd to the nth.
Do we have enough sense or senses extended
To fathom those p-branes M-theory intended
And get to the bottom of hyper spacetime
In this super multiverse theory sublime?
What sounding vibration
Strange seeming sensation
Might set the strings strumming
Or maybe branes humming
Is something to ponder,
One’s whimsies to wander—
My mind like the wind evanescent can roam
O’er billowing waves and ineffable foam
With parallels plenty of our bubble home…
Thus I heard
M-theory’s word.
Albeit in physics there’s much knowledge base,
What waters of wisdom could ever embrace
Such cosmic curled places with hyperspace face?
Eerily far we’ve come to here
From bards’ illusions yesteryear—
When heavens would sing lullabies,
With moon and stars to harmonize
Midst luminescent light display
That might have been the Milky Way
Overturning all its jars
In a shower of shooting stars…
How flimsy, fleeting, and fragile life seems,
In our floating realm like a land of dreams!
Amen— let poets lyricize yet
Sweeter reveries lest we forget
Dearer wonders perchance of yore
From whilom membranes nevermore
Where earthlings gazed at clearer skies
With yonders nearer to our eyes,
In a once upon a time divine
P-brane world of auld langsyne…
– Harley White
(Please read part 1 first or this will make no sense)
To the scientist’s dismay, pressing the cancel button was ineffective. The plunge into his past continued inexorably. It, however, was not without its benefits. Henry’s skin became supple and his muscles bulged as in his youth. His hair returned to the light brown that he hadn’t seen in decades. For the first time in decades, Henry felt, not just okay, but good and joyous in his renewed youth. He decided to stop his slide into the past at about age twenty when he would have his degrees and could live his career over again. If his “other self” was there, Henry would assume a new identity and make a whole different life for himself. It was an unprecedented opportunity and he meant to make the most of it.
Near his birthday in the year 1970, Henry hopefully pressed the cancel button and was rewarded with a loud click. But instead of gliding to a stop, the time machine accelerated in its journey into the past. Henry experienced the hormonal rush of puberty and felt adolescent acne break out on his face. Within minutes, a reverse growth spurt cut his height by several inches. Soon, he was a young child at play, oblivious to the danger of his situation. The year 1950 saw a tot and then a cooing baby. When August 8th passed, the infant suddenly had an umbilical cord attached to a nonfunctioning placenta. Its two umbilical arteries throbbed desperately, but the return blood through the umbilical vein was not oxygenated, nor did it contain essential nutrients.
Membranes enveloped the devolving Henry who now had the “old man” appearance of a fetus. Then he became a blastocyst, ready for implantation in a nonexistent uterine endometrium. Within seconds he regressed to gastrula, blastula and then the berry-like ball of cells called morula. Like some weird countdown, he became 64, 32, 16, 8, 4, 2 cells and then a zygote.
The paternal half of Henry’s chromosomes disappeared next, leaving only an ovum ready for fertilization. Even that became an oocyte needing to complete meiosis before it vanished entirely in the immature ovary of Henry’s infant mother.
Henry Higgins, born August 8, 1950 and died November 8, 1949, physicist and time traveler is missing forever.
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The Emote Monologues Series
by Ashleigh Chaka
The steps in my mind
Dear....
l have written this with due diligence that it gets to you quickly,
For you are the only person that l can talk to,
l have been having too many headaches,
l just feel there is some dodging footsteps in these membranes,
l know l am sure
You know l just don't make use of my emotional diagnosis,
Which l have conformed to now and again,
Connoted by the fidgeting of my skull,
My mind surely has become a race course,
l hope you forgive me for not trusting people and for being so silent,
These slight bolting thoughts have been piercing my mind,
Confronting my mother being the quickest to the courageous line,
Wondering if her decisions in life were ever imbibed with my happiness,
If she was ever cognizant of what l wanted...
Maybe l overslept on my grandmother back and missed my alarm,
l have been so certain...
...that maybe lam the sacred orphan with both parents,
...l do not know who to blame for these feelings,
l end up being lost in the maze in my mind,
Well twenty-four years of her absence in my life may have eroded her mother-ness to me?
Too many questions acquiring of my thesis,
l have tried all sorts of discussions with my mind,
But to no avail,
Perhaps you can come into this discussion
What happens if the priceless gift you have in life...
Wakes up the other morning with a price tag??
...Only embedded with the worthiness only equal to our respect?
...Every time l try to resolve this and heal my self,
...the other step in mind steps right on the toes of my angry thoughts,
This is what l have been going through...
Please exonerate this blood pressure...
it's these steps in my mind serving this swollen requisite,
Now l can't move on like always,
Even my legs have had enough,
There are swollen...
Shame for some...
... a misconception of Blood pressure.
Well dear ....
Family pressure.
??+263 784 528 884
steps in my mind
Ashleigh Chaka
images are slow to fade, where did they go? why were they here?
pensive pen and ink, a gentle man of measure
pipe-smoke wafting cool blue persevering pleasure
cartoon humour designed with careful modest pride
arm-in-arm soothing his war-time petulant bride
oft-wiped canvas, woodland, moody misty scene
roaming through pale paintings where her lost man has been
merging ever always their special being; are they still near?
old parental faces time-spun and woven under my skin
memories upon memories, changing I, changing me
stories upon stories pile up, changing they, changing we
falsehood flailing, transition, turbulent knowing
transcendence, my mind, your mind, all minds are growing
we are mid-paced sampled brethren, thinking anew
significance in what we say and what we do
personalities on kindred journeys beyond kith and kin
kick string-strung corporeal cans down the celestial street
where the multi-dimensional membranes quiver
where energy swims across the quantum river
where slow light-speed traverses the nebula face
where superpositions collapse with certain grace
where fine bits of information feedback feeling
where negentropy out-runs chaotic dealing
pick soulful sounding song, counter-rhythmic orchestral beat
sprung from the fundament, nothing always trumped by something
prime numbers inflate unfolding untold troubles
universal endurance, containment bubbles
pushing, pulling fields, filaments of flexing shape
veils warp and wrap around a wily cosmo-scape
intelligent infant guises, gaining in-sight
impressions crossing chasms to inform the night
lives on holographic film, many melodies to sing
I hear them now, voices blending the chords of man and wife
I feel their presence, though they are forever changed
I know they are transformed, molecules rearranged
I share their warm substance, two people that mattered
I care for their essence, they will not be scattered
I record them in words, the library of thoughts
I sense they are near and far, few and many noughts
I am listening out for them on the other side of life
Yours truly snapped, popped,
and cracked his crown out cervix
(I'll spare ye the bloody graphics),
whence obstetrician able, eager, and
ready underscored with italics
to pass (think football) garden variety
wrinkled newborn asthma
noggin heralded lix
plus deux orbits ago
sported an ordinary
uneventful, nonetheless miraculous
biological secrete reproductive tricks
immediately screaming
without assistance courtesy
Gran Prix (now pronounce as pricks)
also envision Dolby surround sound
nsync with spastic kicks
'o mine straggly mostly
gangly lovely bones mox nix.
Within some nondescript
Cincinnati, Ohio hospital heed gypped
(i.e. none other than me)
thy young mother of prolonged labor
as his bony ass easily
slipped out uterine crypt
whereby with Vernix
caseosa, the waxy or cheese
he appeared made rather dipped
in tallow, thence unexpectedly whipped
minuscule fist ready to bump.
Once placenta and fetal membranes
(unnecessary as wing ding)
discharged out uterus
after birth of offspring,
and thar weren't no more
major contractions in the offing
ma mommy lovingly did cling
to her bundle of joy and bring
maternal breast I ravenously
did suckle fortunately toothless
against her tender bosom trickling
(if mammary serves me correctly)
I presently recall no iota of inkling
what events transpired, nope
no recollection about me circumcising.
Moost likely I felt Jew bull lent
glad yours truly chose decent
mother and father, which opinion
subjected to radical change,
when as grown adult child
living nonsocial under
their roof forced to hire agent
provocateur to practice sparring,
when standoff event on horizon,
which eventually begat ultimatums
their red hot poker rage spent
belittling, cursing, damning...
quiet as Unitarian Church mouse content
internalizing later smoldering
anger I needed to vent
in retrospect diminutive little boy
tied to mama's apron strings
afflicted with mental
health issues inherent
of course hindsight gleaned
social, psychological, neurological...
healthy development got rent
asunder partly explaining
why I became indigent.
Biochemistry—the chemistry of life’s design,
Where molecules dance, interlink, and align,
A bridge between cells, atoms, and earth,
Defining each process, from death to birth.
From cells to tissues, to systems whole,
Biochemistry reveals life’s molecular role.
Atoms join with bonds of varied might—
Covalent, ionic, in complex rite.
Molecular structures, their shapes decide,
How functions emerge and systems collide.
Water, polar and bound by bonds unseen,
Becomes life’s solvent and essential scene.
Carbohydrates fuel, in branching chains,
While proteins give shape, structure, and gains.
Lipids form membranes, barriers and walls,
And nucleic acids hold life's codes, small but tall.
Each plays its part, in pathways intertwined,
The building blocks of life, so meticulously designed.
Catabolism breaks, releasing life’s spark,
Anabolism builds, leaving nature's mark.
Glycolysis starts, the fuel we ignite,
The citric cycle follows, energy in sight.
ATP fuels the cells’ endless demands,
In bioenergetic chains, life expands.
The enzymes, catalysts that spark each course,
Signal transductions, relay with molecular force.
Channels open, gates control flow,
Compartmented spaces, with roles to show.
Each process precise, a well-ordered dance,
In the cell’s intricate, coordinated trance.
DNA spirals, a double helix of code,
Blueprints of life in sequences bestowed,
Transcription to RNA, a message to read,
Translation to proteins, each cell’s vital creed.
Genes regulated, expressions controlled,
A symphony of life meticulously told.
With spectrums and gels, we separate, define,
Electrophoresis’ bands, chromatogram’s line,
PCR amplifies genes to explore,
CRISPR edits, opens new doors.
These tools unearth life’s secrets concealed,
In every lab, mysteries revealed.
From medicine’s cures to agricultural yields,
Biochemistry stretches across modern fields.
Personalized treatments, precision designed,
Green tech and ethics, the future aligned.
At life’s smallest scale, in molecules profound,
The promise of science and progress is found.
(continued)
V
Has it not occurred to you how I sat with you
dear sister, counting the chicking back of the
evening train by the window sill and then
got up to wind my way down the snake infested rail
to shoo shoo the cows home to brood
while you gee gee-d the chicks to coop
and did we not then plan of a farm
a green milking farm to warm the palm
then turned to scratch the itch over in our minds
lay down on the floors, mat aside
our thoughts to cushion heads
whilst dug tapioca roots heaped the dream
and we lay scraping the kernel-less
fiber shelled coconuts
O Bhama, my goatless daughter kid
how I nursed you with the callow calves
those mutual moments forced in these common lives
and then, that day when they sold you
the blistering shirtless sun never flinching
an eye, defiant I stood caressing your creamy coat
and all you could say was a hopeless baaa..a..aa
and then, then, that day as we came over the mountains
two kids you led to the thorny brush, business bent
the eye-balling bharata natyam
VI
O masters of my fading August dream
For should you take this life from me
Know you any better
Than when children we have joyously romped
Down and deep in the August river
Washing on the mountain tin.
Now on the growing granite's precipitous face
In our vigilant wassail
Remember the children downstream playing
Where your own little voices are speechless lingering
Let it not be simply said that a river flows
to flourish a land
More than that he who is high at the source
take heed:
For a river putrid in the cradle is worse
than the plunging flooding rain.
And the eclectic monsoons may have come
Have gathered and may have gone
While the senses still within torrid membranes
thap-pooo-ng
thap-pong-ng-ng
thap-pong
(for "Glossary of Vernacular Terms" see next page)
etherial entities, Elsewhere and Elsewhen
less than omnipotent but exceeding their parts
abide in Netherverse, universal children
intertwining potentials conceive child of their arts
a difficult birth through a point of positions
with a breath of inflation our Cosmos survives
face lights up with symmetry breaking transitions
a familiar fine face in the microwave skies
expanding bubble within a where-when ocean
two-way quantum cuddles along the interface
to us, top and bottom, a confusing commotion
to Cosmos, it's all around, warm parents embrace
and Cosmos communicates with siblings and friends
beyond overlapping membranes down massive black holes
at centres of galaxies where light bends and bends
re-meeting and greeting wild oceanic shoals
an ocean of learning, an endless becoming
made in the image of imagined potential
and listen closely, Cosmos is faintly humming
music symphonic with daring differential
keeping a rhythm that fast-forwards down aeons
then surfs the present and through time loops back
fabulous instruments, incredible crayons
sketch the past and future in one amazing track
and our Cosmos is tuned to the beat of life
empathy etched across a holographic mind
sharing grief and joy, the world weary cries of strife
the sheer delight of being, delirious and kind
awareness arises and then consciousness awakes
first galaxy focused on planets around stars
life teems, dreams and dances as intelligences outbreaks
escaping gravity's grip but leaving some scars
for pain and exultation, they fly together
space-timed, time-spaced, while smiling over horizons
Cosmos listens, then learns, needs touch of a feather
to fine tune core settings and cosmic liaisons
the task is great, for the infant bubble may burst
and then duly deflate to a point singular
or forever speed out so flat-lined and cursed
where, when, then... would learning be in story so far?
Christmas season is here again
A season that calls for celebration
A time set aside to remember the birth of the king of kings
Let us go into this season with our hearts full of praises
As we give our Christmas gifts of golds, myrrhs and frankincenses to our king
While our houses are decorated with Christmas signatures, our Christmas decorations
What a season to share, love and re-activate the significance of the birth of the king
A time and period to remember
A season that caresses with joy and happiness leaving pain and sadness without attention
A season where the Christmas lights glow-shinning brighter than ever before
The Christmas bells jingle as the people sing aloud Christmas carols and mingle
Hearts are full of praises, excitement fills the air
Angels ascend and descend with gifts as we proceed into a new year
The snowman resurfaces not wanting-unwilling to miss out of this joyful Christmas season
Christmas hampers fill every home, indeed Christmas season leaves us with a feeling of
joyful happiness to behold
The mistletoe sprouts curling its way around homes
Christmas trees emerge in every home as snowflakes descend
Christmas cards are delivered to spread the love and celebration across every home, town,
street, city, community, continent, region, and world
The sounds of Christmas carols soar into the clouds, echoing into the membranes of the earth
The Candle lights shine bright in this Christmas season
Christmas eases the pain of January to November
With the Christmas bells “gingling”
We make Christmas wishes and hope Santa delivers our Christmas gifts
Can you hear the Christmas carols setting the template for the Christmas feeling ?
An indeed reuniting season
Christmas hampers and gifts go round every family
Christmas candles light the world
“Oh Christmas tree” sings the Christmas trees
Jiggle your Christmas bells aloud and let the Christmas cards and pictures give us
memories of the lovely and beautiful Christmas moments we shared.
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