Rothko's Pallette

Rothko, plutonian spectrum bursting the atom blowing our minds
to smithereens smashing the illusions of eternity,
hubris, should be only expounded on in art
because the heart only wishes to teach what the eyes perceive to be
to love the whole of humankind
is but atoms bound by sunshine
and that very love a desire so profound
that to be negated was the surest way to nirvana
because that sun melted melded your mind's eye, alien-kind
transcendent yet bound to this time is standing still, shocked out of
complacency
by the fire of consciousness, levitating as it sucks the moisture out our
bones
and the eyeballs out our heads
once this happens your brush becomes sadness
and the brightest of days becomes the night
you looked into it's maw

Torrent

Born in springtime under the shade of morning's fire
She is: 
A random deluge but every droplet, essential.  Or
The sensual call of the cicada's song and the impenetrable power
Of mountain after mountain after mountain.
She assists the rivers which spirals along the terrain's curved spine running
into the horizon to greet the dusk where she becomes the silk of night.
She is the cumulonimbus breath, the flood and surge
Sent from the voluminous heavens to set the world in order.
She is unleashed from deep within cyclonic winds and hydrated breezes which
settle and then lull the forest and jungle to sleep.
She nourishes the lunatic waves and is the ebb and tide, the undulating secret
Rocking the boat, the dock, the shore, the heart.
She is the ice, the snow, the brine and the mist
Transforming endless dreams of barren space into a wild fete
Enrapturing the eyes, nose, ears and skin.
She is the music and cadence, the harmony through which visions create
themselves.
She is the melody divine.
Singing, touching, dancing, crying, scintillating...
She is the rain.
Redolent , the smell of fire upon the earth,  the air.  Humidity meets

electricity.  The synergy

makes her come.

Senescence

The science of the self
The relentless chemical reactions,
cell death and rebirth,
digestion, peristalsis and
respiration.
The chemistry of turning food to energy.

And what of the non-physical self
what changes there?
So subtle, immeasurable even,
But over the course of a lifetime
those changes, minute though they are,
Add up and
Can be shown by the crooks and furrows
Shadows, chiaroscuro,
Atrophy and tone of our
facial muscles teeth hair hands skin ears
Lose elasticity, change color
Develop a cauliflower immovability, a stoop, a staunchness.
Alas a weariness.
We seem to wear the earth
Becoming the earth's twin or a
Reflection of the earth's timelessness.

Gaia

Gaia
A living, breathing, loving
Finite mass of intergalactic matter
Fused into utter perfection.
She has given birth to us.
What have we done for her lately?

War's Smallest Cries

Children do not walk in straight lines
To avoid landmines or missile heads.
They have no concept of dying.  Wait.
That's here but not there
Where body fragments lay rotting in the
Rubble of bombed out dwellings.  Everything, everyone is
Covered in dust, soot and sand.
And there, the people scream because they
cannot hear.
The bombs have blown away their eardrums.  And
All that remains is the buzz, a sound very similar
To the little lamps on the nightstands next to their little beds.

Ode to Autumn

My senses are always grappling with the true nature of time.
But I anticipate
the loveliest transition,
that of summer into fall.

I become aware of
Arctic tinged breezes which chill through to the marrow
causing my joints to ache and my nose to run.
All around cinnamon colored leaves are ceremoniously offered
in a ritual of fiery sacrifice,
The incense of which burns my eyes and singes my nose.

Numbral angles become repositioned as on a sundial;
Allowing for the equidistance between night and day.
And as the night grows longer, the closer we are
to aphelion.

The once downy feathered peartree
has born the last of its fruit.
Wind becomes void of bird songs and cicadas
Yet pregnant with the Norther's blustery seed.

Golden wheat and corn stand at attention ready for the reaper, as
pumpkins become ghouls, twinkling their fiendish grins
All along twilit landscapes.
All Souls Day is nigh.

So, come away, come away
'tis Autumn's first day
Helio's chariot must rest 'til May.

Chasing Cosmic Dust

“Most of the fundamental ideas of science are essentially simple, and may, as a rule, be expressed in a language comprehensible to everyone.”  Albert Einstein

Infinity is sought through telescopes, ultraviolet and infrared gathering spectrographs or miles under ground, smashing atoms round and round-
The super-collider purports to recreate the beginning of time.
Dark energy mystery, a physicist’s riddle:
the philosopher’s dream of a “grand unified theory,”
Emerging from dark matter or the glue holding
Reality intact, or so they think, with the promise of multiple dimensions
Held together by superstrings.  Elastic nebulae, supernovas,
Space-Time formulas and  “m” theories dizzying to the nonscientific mind.
Particles, antiparticles or weakly interactive massive particles
 muons, quarks and bosons collide and repell, appear and disappear
Collapse upon themselves within shadow universes.  Black hole vacuums
Ingest and implode quanta, the event horizon reached
Relativity is suspended.  Simplicity states
The microcosm reflects the macrocosm reflects infinity mirrors.