A conflagration rages within my being,
Looming over the tableau of woe at my feet.
Silken threads and ribbons tether their flight,
they opt for a divergent retreat from reality.
In a moment of frailty,
Taut sounds sway their desolation,
Erupt my apex,
at least their visage will be frozen,
Statues of their inner torment.
My molten core whirls,
Glistening like quicksilver as my fury solidifies.
The mountain sentinel,
Surveying the forest of self annihilation.
Refrain from visiting or it may cost your life.
for Jim)DEVOTION POEM - ENTANGLED. (for Jim)
For me he’s The One.
As I’ve been for him
his Only One.
From the beginning when
Our fates embraced.
I listen to his breathing, while concerned,
He watches how well I’m moving.
Around him, I am a verdant vine.
He rises near — as a braid of wildflowers
around me to twine.
Our holy Lord sees our love for each other as
The poetry of twin pendulums — joined signs in
The physics and mathematics of His space and time
As we move together — entangled.
Forever our love is synchronized.
The scales of our music harmonize.
We see starlights shine — during the any
Moments of time when we embrace the highest
of love within each other.
——————————————————————————————————————
(c) sally young eslinger
With thanks to reading here on PS
got me to ask Jim about entanglement theory, resulting
in the inspiration for this. Thankful we inspire one another.
People made clocks
Pendulums
To strike like their hearts
To live wall clocks
People made clocks
Pendulums
Not striking
Even to live clocks
Pendulums of people
Not live like clocks
Without striking
When I walked in I didn't know what to expect.
Each room highlighted in light.
A oral tradition. To make ourselves at home upon request.
In reciprocation we do.
The rooms we gather in, the ones we walk past.
The objects we fill to take up space.
The rooms a clear reflection of Spring.
The molding painted white.
I was told that some rooms are not to be visited.
Everything has it's season and this isn't one of them.
Placing blame on the rooms.
I want to explore them most I said.
The ones that go unseen.
The things we rarely shine light to.
The places films of dust continue to grow.
These are some of the best places to go.
The beauty of things we walk past day to day.
The smile unknown destinations can bring.
Cultivating the ideas we keep cluttered.
Gasping for air.
These are the rooms I want to explore most.
The parts of you that you strictly keep to yourself.
Only when you are comfortable to share these rooms with me.
To kiss the floor with our feet.
To dwell in the past staring into our future.
We are the pendulums trapped inside the clock
Time is a road.
We move forward and backwards;
sometimes we move at the same pace,
different speeds, while other times we collide.
Progressing or deteriorating as humans,
we're all travelers through time,
trying to understand how and why we are moving
up and about, like eternal pendulums.....
Pendulums of life
What cosmic engine drives them 'to',
But never 'to' and 'fro'?
Or, are they in other realms driven ‘back’
Just as in ours they are propelled ‘forth’?
To what celestial symphony do they waltz to,
As they grind our births into our deaths?
Tracing the loci of people’s destinies;
Each and every one
Why do youth we take for granted,
With no handle over our assigned times?
And age we dread and bemoan,
Yet, we can achieve glory; even in frailty.
If we are only but tiny bobs at the end of puppet strings,
Traversing life as pendulums, each in it's unique swing
What lies beyond our births and deaths,
I just can’t help but wonder!
Humans are like pendulums,
they swing from one mistake to the
next and then a crisis.
Just when twilight and dawn finally mesh
in the quiet passage of breaths released...
there in that moment, I witness
a thousand wishes dancing
through the shadows of my mind,
each and every one in the form of chiaroscuro
marked by restless eclipses black to white.
The yearning streaks of a journey
creating long and endless days
as season's rhythms cross the border
etched on zodiac whirls : a pathway dictated
by calibrated blows of a horn trilling spaces
in moments caught in the web of hours, to seize
glimpses held by ticks of banged pendulums.
I find myself wrapped tightly in spaces
that I can hardly breathe or pause--
when a traffic of former, present chapters
slices the glide offered by life
as chain-link of minutes quickly grinds
collecting people and milestones
along railways, while I desperately try
to escape the rising and falling by moon-sun,
endlessly bartering for more grace...
dear swinging time, you rob my " now"
through your eternal, impertinent ride.
Pendulum Of Time and Space Contest
Sponsor: Kai Michael Neumann
Re-Posted 5/24/2017
Visualize the interaction of the energies of people’s lives as pinholes and pendulums.
Shimmers reflecting streaks of god’s light
Through pinhole instances
Which illuminate the infinite,
Defiant night.
The pained pendulum pushes through the fog
With the ever-crashing splash of rheumatic guilt
Licking at the swinging bronze from below.
We lose God again and again
In the cluttering of thoughts
Like the burnt wings of butterflies
Over-used, over-driven, and
Over-flapped and now here
Festooned to a wheelchair he sits
Staved and dying from stale love.
And needing my help.
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