A Poem Thread

FLUX / The world around us.

The world is a flux of ones and zero’s,
Nothing is wrong except your perception.
Everything is changing and still the pattern is the same.
The world is a box with in a box, within a box within a box….

To wander in the world of your mind.
To dream while still awake.
To stand still while moving
To move while standing still.
(take your pill)

The world is flux of good and evil,
But what is good and what is not?
It is up to you to make the decision
Everything is wrong except your perception.

To wander in the world of your mind.
To dream while still awake.
To stand still while moving
To move while standing still.

The world is a flux, and so are you.
Everything moves and stands still.
Dreams are reality and reality are dreams.
Your dreams are reality.
Realize you are awake.
 
One fine day in the middle of the night
Two dead men got up to fight
Back to back they faced each other
Drew their swords and shot each other

One was blind and the other couldn't see
So they picked out a dummy for a referee
A blind came to watch them
A deaf and dumb bobby to shout "hooray!"

A legless horse passing by
Kicked the blind man in the eye
That knocked him through a nine inch wall
Into a dry ditch and drowned them all
 
My Garden

You imagine
You are here
And you hear sounds and noises
You hear beyond a thunder
It is not from the hooves of horses but more distant

Around there is a garden
Birds with exotic voices make their sounds ring in its inner space
You listen, there is another ring, another
A singing that is but a subtle shade like dappled leaves of every colour

Can you speak, or sing back to these voices you can hear
Calling you to listen
There is no expectation
Than that you listen
You can hear it clearly
 
What noise annoys an oyster most?
A noisy noise annoys an oyster most.

I love tongue twisters.
 
"O oysters, come and play with us!"
the Walrus did beseech
"A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk,
along the briny beach...?"
but answer came there none
And this was scarcely odd because
they'd eaten every one

--Lewis Carroll

p.s. I think they went looking for mushrooms in the lupins, at this apointy of t' anointy.
 
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I can't really post this lot in Phys&Math; it's about certain Maxwellian entities - why photons aren't discontinuous, and why charge needs a bit of mass, but so what? Well, my poetic license means I can drive this:

...elastic electrons process their possibilities
and project their perfluid patters
upon the placidly perturbed surface
of a sea that has a dimension
which Mr. Maxwell sees
...spinning lazily forever
with the longest waves they can find
in every available direction
but at any time.
 
Rose of all Roses, Rose of all the World!
You, too, have come where the dim tides are hurled
Upon the wharves of sorrow, and heard ring
The bell that calls us on; the sweet far thing.
Beauty grown sad with its eternity
Made you of us, and of the dim grey sea.
Our long ships loose thought-woven sails and wait,
For God has bid them share an equal fate;
And when at last defeated in His wars,
They have gone down under the same white stars,
We shall no longer hear the little cry
Of our sad hearts, that may not live nor die

W.B. Yeats

Love that poem!
 
Dark Secrets

Night beckons at my window
With fingers of icy bone
Shall death be upon my dreams,
While I’m lying here alone?
Shadows do follow me
In the crevasses of my mind
Whisperings behind my eyes
cold tremors up my spine
And here I lay so silently
This dark upon my skin
To feel my blood still rushing
My breath still flowing in
Do dreams blend with reality
When night comes to your door?
The sigh of blurring landscapes
Whispers across the floor
Silently, against my pillow
I rest my weary head
Yet the mind pulses savagely
When one is talking to the dead

By yours truly
 
the forest

here, along the hills
where great trees
nurse their broken limbs
against each other

and in sanctity
secrets old as time
are whispered
and not heard
 
[Avabrain goodnight mixup]

I'm dedicated to the mysterious, mysterious voice in my head,
in screams in my brain, it screams me to scream,
it screams me to dream
the mysterious, mysterious dream
which gives the world a 10 dimensional spin,
nothing quite as the 10 dimensional face of god -
she's the one!

She is in a temple below the desert sand,
she's the one
in a cave where shamans fall
then turn to fossils and stone,
in a cave where dead shamans sleep awake
together with the goddess in her sarcophagi of the universal dream;
gotta see to believe it's real, but I swear
cross my crumbling heart with two bones of my fingers, see!
 
Daddy -Sylvia Plath

You do not do, you do not do
Any more, black shoe
In which I have lived like a foot
For thirty years, poor and white,
Barely daring to breathe or Achoo.

Daddy, I have had to kill you.
You died before I had time---
Marble-heavy, a bag full of God,
Ghastly statue with one grey toe
Big as a Frisco seal

And a head in the freakish Atlantic
Where it pours bean green over blue
In the waters off beautiful Nauset.
I used to pray to recover you.
Ach, du.

In the German tongue, in the Polish town
Scraped flat by the roller
Of wars, wars, wars.
But the name of the town is common.
My Polack friend

Says there are a dozen or two.
So I never could tell where you
Put your foot, your root,
I never could talk to you.
The tongue stuck in my jaw.

It stuck in a barb wire snare.
Ich, ich, ich, ich,
I could hardly speak.
I thought every German was you.
And the language obscene

An engine, an engine
Chuffing me off like a Jew.
A Jew to Dachau, Auschwitz, Belsen.
I began to talk like a Jew.
I think I may well be a Jew.

The snows of the Tyrol, the clear beer of Vienna
Are not very pure or true.
With my gypsy ancestress and my weird luck
And my Taroc pack and my Taroc pack
I may be a bit of a Jew.

I have always been scared of *you*,
With your Luftwaffe, your gobbledygoo.
And your neat mustache
And your Aryan eye, bright blue.
Panzer-man, panzer-man, O You---

Not God but a swastika
So black no sky could squeak through.
Every woman adores a Fascist,
The boot in the face, the brute
Brute heart of a brute like you.

You stand at the blackboard, daddy,
In the picture I have of you,
A cleft in your chin instead of your foot
But no less a devil for that, no not
Any less the black man who

Bit my pretty red heart in two.
I was ten when they buried you.
At twenty I tried to die
And get back, back, back to you.
I thought even the bones would do.

But they pulled me out of the sack,
And they stuck me together with glue.
And then I knew what to do.
I made a model of you,
A man in black with a Meinkampf look

And a love of the rack and the screw.
And I said I do, I do.
So daddy, I'm finally through.
The black telephone's off at the root,
The voices just can't worm through.

If I've killed one man, I've killed two---
The vampire who said he was you
and drank my blood for a year,
Seven years, if you want to know.
Daddy, you can lie back now.

There's a stake in your fat, black heart
And the villagers never liked you.
They are dancing and stamping on you.
They always *knew* it was you.
Daddy, daddy, you bastard, I'm through.
 
Unanswers

What makes a soul a soul?
A darkened night?
A candle flame? Shattered glass
Upon a shadowed windowpane?
What calls the blood? A whisper, a wind?
A burning, longing, aching,
twisting savagely within?
What invades?
Drags deep your senses?
What rips and claws and splits your heart?
The night licking upon your skin?
Or the soul that fell apart?
 
Dear Daddy

Dear Daddy, I love you.
It might sound crazy, I know.
Yet maybe you just never believed enough,
Not just in love, Daddy, but in me.
Dear Daddy, I'm crying, crying down so deep inside.
Way down until it feels like my soul is tearing.
Please don't let it tear me in two, Daddy!
Dear Daddy, you don't know me.
Maybe if you just opened your eyes; opened your arms,
drew me in, instead of pushing me away.
Shit, Daddy, I just put a gram of coke and heroin up my nose...
What are you going to do...?
I just ate half your medicine cabinet...
I just found your stash and drank it all the way down...it was sooo good.
The X, the liquor, the drugs are like a fire in my veins that won't stop burning!
And shit, Daddy, I just drank a whole fifth of Redrum and can't...walk...straight
I can't get fucking anywhere!!!
Would you catch me if I fell, Daddy? I don't think so.
Dear Daddy, I think I am a REALLY big fuck-up.
I can't even get my head clean and clear and right.
And I keep hurting people! I keep fucking hurting people!
I keep hurting you.
So won't you please just shoot me, Daddy?
Because I think I'm just like you!
Like grandfather and father, just wallowing in the vapor...
In the poisonous cloud of liquid oblivion
Until I'm drowning in your blood.
Your barely controlled anger, Daddy. Like a rubber band,
That...just...might...SNAP!
Shit, ain't that like me?
You look at me and you see yourself, Daddy.
You hate the shadow that hovers. You push me away.
Dear Daddy...
I love you.
 
Life with ghosts

Night
when it shows me, as I sit and wait, talking incessantly, inanely to my friend who falls asleep as I babble.

The guide
moves me as my thready pulse blinks, like a dim light; I leave the hut and walk, alone in a vast and hidden world, which is not seen lest the guide takes you.

A world
in a night that is dark and old, the guide tells, warning of unpleasantness.

I walk
along a beach; I wonder what might be in the black water beyond the low surf, that pocks and rumbles quietly to itself.

I see
many dead under my feet, the way across is foreboding; the deep beckons, yet the way is dark.

I do not see
that I could walk over the death laid before me, to the deep water where the Spirit's world is.

I leave
the beach; I do not look back at the dark, or the water where light will always reach; it is black and dark because it has no light, there is none in its vastness.

I know
as I walk toward the Sun, that I need only look down, far enough, to see: though every surface is alighted, the Deep and its dark lurk there, they shadow my every step.

The Spirit
where it leaves the great Deep, moving along a darkened shore, must walk across the Dead.

The Spirit is you.
 
Every breath I take for space
Through flowers to stars road lies above
made of screeching metal burning
through complex math developed
every venture not a struggle
every minute made of previous

Life tomorrow will be changed forever
Space reborn from dreams forsaken
Stars in our eyes reflecting
Stars that we can touch at last

Life tomorrow, is rebirth forever
Fear nothing, my son sleeping
Future will be born from here

IvanDreamsOfSpaceCU.jpg
 
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