Ultraviolet
A year of ultraviolet.
In this verse,
you and I,
looking past the
night sky
to see
stars
as
they
are.
Theoretical Artist
This search for
god,
a never ending quest
of riddles,
puddles,
madness,
multiplicity. A little bit of
clarity.
Then sadness.
Today
maybe the worlds
going to a
better
place.
Real as dirt.
Dazed and confused.
Deepened, turfed.
I’m not the answer, man.
I’m the question
kind.
And these endless
joints have gotten
me to a point
that there’s holes in
all my
clothes.
Storm
Somewhere in Rhode Island,
an island unto itself.
Away from Providence, it dances left,
right, left, right;
Left is a sketchy memory.
Faded the colours may be.
A swing in motion.
Stars, tides and the ocean.
Atlantis alas breathes its last.
Breathe
The Box
A no boundary proposal,
Euclidean first
then Lorentzian.
First,
back and forth,
geometry like shuttle
clocks.
Sum over histories,
imagination.
Sport.
What’s real, whats imaginary,
boreal struts.
Who really knows..
Who has the guts?
Subjective symmetries,
all but constant.
Grey-layered
mystery,
and zero’s momentum.
And
back again
the same way.
Ever-dimensional in
tensional integrity.
Adapt and sway
and
many a void decimal place.
Just particles and
waves,
in fractal fields.
A rusked spectre
that’s spiked like
forever.
Sunset eclipsed the
universe,
a little bit divine.
Too few are the
galaxies that collide.
A night sky with dancing lights.
An illusion’s movement, bound,
delight.
Swirl
Perspective in place,
time sees to perceive.
Now unfurling,
reasons to be.
A swathe of pipes,
who knows, who’s eyes?
A roof unto life,
with an “I” to
define.
She sighed in relief;
a breath to all kind,
to hope and to dream,
and one to
breathe.
Weaving in
strings of memory.