My boyfriend’s a physicist - he finds the universe interesting.
Imagine yourself in Paris, where ordinary evenings can feel cinematic. Maybe it’s the staging of the luminous moon, the warm, flattering glow of gas streetlights, the low architecture that accents the sky - or the wine but there’s a collusion that meshes with the city’s origin myth of romance.
Anyway, you’re dressed to the nines, wearing later-surprise underwear and he’s talking about ‘neural convolutional networks (AI).’
They recognize and filter nebular contamination (whatever THAT is).
Who knew?
You could fill a library with what I don’t know - apparently.
He’s so cute with his smartyness.
Don’t worry, this isn’t a tale of tragic passion.
A little expressive affection will bring him into my lusty orbit.
.
.
Songs for this:
I Can't Help Loving That Man by Björk
Inside and Out by Feist
Cool waters casade over myriad
rocks. That serpentine creek which heads to sea
Voice lilts,, its charm draws me in period
Fears enters as I sit under the tree
Crescent moon rising gives off lunar light
There appears a phosphorous light green glow
Creatures who are naturally bright at night
Water ripples by, while soft breezes blow
Fear gives way to the beautiful set-up
By God's verdant earth, Lord of creation
Then creatures slither emptying my cup
A lizard, not a nebular station
The negative ions should be soothing
A night visit seems to offer musings
A restless sky becomes
a high operatic act,
a bright stratosphere
stage lights that performance art.
Then there is the counterpoint
of a calm cloudiness,
slow variations
writing airy, occasional music.
Clouds scud and billow,
a nymphic dance
dressed to mesmerize.
The misty nebular is symphonic,
always beginning
always unfinished.
Rhythmic movements
that are joined
to the beat of your heart.
When you gaze through
that first window of light,
when you raise your spiritual baton
in that open air concert
you are both
the music and the audience.
A billion blazing Suns that shine for me,
One heart beats within their symphony…
My eyes expand to the morning glimmer,
For sorrows fade a decrescending dimmer…
Splendour is their shine of Eternal Elysium,
Fulgor fusion fires of hydrogen into helium…
Luminosity lusters of a beacon brilliant birth,
Scintillating sunbeams surfacing on the Earth…
Nucleosynthesis nears the atmospheric aurora,
Photosynthesis prances with the frolicking flora…
Gravitational graves within the blink of an eye,
Stellar Suns are reborn as they surely die…
I’m sunbathing nude as the soft sands seduce,
I wait the nebular night as the Stars transduce.
March.15.2020
A Star's Heartbeat
Sponsored by:
Chantelle Anne Cooke
Placed 4'th...Thank You
Two drifting hearts
pining to be one,
hover on the convergent surge
of the winds of yearning.
Once fused, the primal passion
drives their propulsion,
taking them to the carnal heights
of cosmic longing,
consummated in celestial silence.
At the acme of surreal desire
of magnetic craving,
the private spaces of the two bodies
implode to disappear.
Their mingled souls
then turn into the singularity
suspended in deep outer space
where in astral ballet
they sway entwined.
The blended bodies
of sculpted silhouette,
framed against the diffused glow
of the crescent moon,
float to the edge of nebular clouds,
away from the intangible allure
of the blue planet,
that couldn’t thwart
the space odyssey of love.
January 25, 2020
Contest : Picture Prompt
Sponsor : Brenda Chiri
Spiritual transformation can be a realization; through
meditation it may be an ongoing manifestation.
We have unmeasurable potential to live as a sun
shinny radiance. To mindfully focus on our indwelling
soul rays peels away internal false layers that keep us
from essentially, truthfully and mindfully, being there.
From moment one, each infant is conditioned further
away from their innate wisdom. Born as love made of
love by and from the one source of all love, we are
diminished once earth cast from above.
We are infinite freedom and light. We all hold the
insight to know boundless glows. Silencing mind thinks
allows the soul to re-administer sun blinks to all who truly
desire being illuminated so. Centered in inactivity to
faithfully rely only on diminished life noise, holds more
spiritual "I am" compliance than any earth moment spent.
Through true surrender of earth themes, ideally no one's
heart will earth reside as a regular nebular, but all as a
unique sunbeam.
She is one of many, dear Eleanor secluded
in her secular sepulcher,
One of the lonely plenty, a regular within the
anonymous atoms nebular…
Dreamed of rice, at her wedding
with her sorrows spreading,
She paid the price, with tears shedding
and one pillow bedding…
Of her loneliness, the nights in waiting
never participating,
Perhaps erroneous, her heart pulsating
and will abating…
All her lonely people, avoiding the sun
hurting no one,
Brings them to the steeple, with prayers none
trying to outrun...
Father McKenzie, could not help Eleanor
a social predator,
In his frenzy, using sermons as to metaphor
a false presenter.
Rest in peace Eleanor Rigby...
Aug.07.2019
Eleanor Rigby Who was she
Sponsored by: Jerry T Curtis
Background music by
Jake Shimabukuro
Eleanor Rigby
(HiSessions.com Acoustic Live!)
With a female virtual voice
N/A for contest
The muse time travelers fatefully freewill say,
this love of ours was written long ago in the stars
But presently, my earthling feelings
is Venus empty
Got no romantic future happening ...
on another orbital losing spin
Just a tinfoil head man
listening to the upper UV wave band
Alpha Centauri hoping for a constellation prize
Then out of the delta quadrant,
I heard a string of “pings”
A supernova force, binary stellar voice —
Projecting a holographic image of a robot face,
it was mechanically screaming wildly at me:
Danger, Will Robinson!
Your heart is gonna get lost in her space,
and there ain’t no outer limit to this pulsar pleasure place
The cosmic choice given
was a “Love Theory of Relativity”
Grab hold of the quantum bond
and let the cold fusion burn nebular deep
That’s how it time continuum is
when you meet the Orion woman of your galactic dreams
Constellation prize instantly arrives
on a solar wind flight “faster-than-light” transporter beam
Danger ... passion overload, Will Robinson!
Your heart is gonna blow pure crystal dilithium,
and there ain't a single symbiotic soul to repair the hole
Spiritual illumination,
celestial luminosity
has a halo glow
The reflected magnitude of infinity
is prism immeasurable
Prayer tears
spark cosmic fireworks
The speed of salvation
is faster than light
Multi-galactic mercy
is pure godly
The nebular volume of forgiveness
has an ever-expanding
portal entry
Unwavering faith
moves with supernova oscillation —
An angelic
gravitational destiny
Invisible light
shines farthest star brightly
in every new birth heart
Spreading universal loving warmth
to the nearest terrestrial soul,
fated to firmament believe
Solar seeds breathing
burial lowly
Will sunburst radiantly
with resurrection brilliance unending
Blessed be
the burning stellar bushes
of eternity
This poem was inspired by the talented poet, Phil Capitano's
transcendent poem, "I Am"
from his marvelous poetry book, "Roses on the Moon"
A nihilist sees the tree and
questions why a single leaf fears the wind.
If the tree exists at all.
An invisible speck of mathematical matter
tucked away in a nebular equation.
If the equation exists at all.
He stands alone on a sunny day
beneath a cloudless sky and waits.
Nearby, a family celebrates
their ability to multiply.
A child’s birthday party.
Just one of many for one of the many.
God willing.
The father smears mustard on a hamburger bun.
His daughter objects to the sesame seeds.
She picks a single seed
from the soft bread and positions
it beneath the blue nail of her middle finger,
presses the top of that nail
to the bottom of her thumb,
then sends the seed soaring to Kingdom come.
The nihilist refuses to see the seed.
How it glides through air defying gravity.
How it waits for an opportunity to strike
like a military drone
(all systems green)
looking down on the park
ready to blow that fearful leaf away.
In the name of self-preservation.
11/22/2018
I’m definitely eraser old skool
My muse keystrokes
are quirky cool
Padawan woodpecker
tap ... tap ... tap
on dense ears of educated fools
Principled pencil-head me
will cursive
rap ... rap ... rap
on toes of uneducated, dull tools
That’s just a guaranteed
blot splatter pile
Keep them haters on a Rorschach opaque see
Rico Suave ink style
always got a chest message from down deep
I most certainly be a virtual invisible rebirth newbie
My ruminating contemplations
are plain as the joyous smiles on an infant baby
Grasshopper of the temple holy,
me quantum leap into the great cosmic sea
Ascension space mariner of the Nth nebular dimension
The Infinity transmission Light beacon beckons me,
elevated consciousness is my photon-winged destiny
Loss of ego self is the treasured skeleton key,
that opens the prism door to existential harmony
Purity thought emanations
is the oscillating blessed yet-to-be
Down-to-earth sleep mode ink
is my stylish font, daily transported awakening
Unknown new name is my promised recurring dream
Wandering hearts
star-crossed
Another silent night
celestial pulse
scarlet letter comet tarry
Earth angels cry
A stellar love longing
sigh written in the moonlit sky
Straying asteroidal attitude
lonely tale
ice particle trail
Send out an SOS solar flare
in search of a
quasar pulmonary spark rescue
Solo silhouette
merging hopes dying
Void sadness
wormhole bore to the core
Always took the beaten path
worn passion time traveled
empty space continuum before
Falling firmament eyes
tear trace gravity cratering
Complete the short circuit
thru the cosmic expanse
lonely nebular phase
No Saturn expectations
no cellular rings
Then a galactic petal touch
spurs an emotional rosy gas-go
from inert growth
to accelerated movement within
Twin kinetic atom
connect again
once eve stillness of feelings end
And shooting star desires
become so supernova smitten
We are the Borg
We are cybernetic organisms supreme
Our domain extends
from the Omuro Valley of stars
to the Zekar great nebular isle
We destroyed our homeworld smelting pot ---
so that all would know,
resistance is futile
Looking at the Milky Way, I know I am far,
far from the high way, I left and you are.
I, for once should have known, the ride and the drift,
cause by what you have shown, be no voyage so swift.
Now that I could touch the dazzling stars you gaze,
should I paint a nebular without the scars of your face?
With a stargazer shining through your hair,
that waves across the universe blown by air.
My senses frozen, my soul feather light,
I feel slow motion, swimming in aurora at night.
Gently thinking, how shall I do it right
to rise knowing, I am your white knight.
When all the black holes vanish or die,
should I unfreeze my senses and fly,
to earth you never said me goodbye,
and show you what I painted in the sky.
Oh Saturn. The great harvester.
How strange you seem
With your remarkable rings.
Remants perhaps of a destroyed moon.
Or left over from the strange nebular material
From which thou were created.
But even stranger still is the new Phoebe ring,
Many many times larger than even Saturn itself.
*Work in progress*
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