First Light Machine

Credit: NASA / JPL

As time grows
Our knowledge of reason
Periodically slows
By an act of treason.

As time bows
Our wistful emotions
Statistically know
Their time of season.

Where futures go
Our senseless visions
Emphatically pose
For a profile of reason.

Credit: Hubble Heritage

Look who’s out there
Listen to their voices
Their rhythm’s and shakes
Without any choices.

Quietly choosing who is
And who’s not sought
In choices outstanding
Where decision is bought.

Their absent presence
Their choices mount
The explanation confusing
Their decisons fraught.

Credit: ARCIMAGING

Wooden wore boxes
Miles in length
Deep in lore
Send for shelter
From the whore.

Wooden deep stares
Frought in anger
Dripped in fear
Sends for its maker
Without shedding a tear.

Credit: NASA / JPL / CICLOPS

Did we uncover you
While you tried to shine
Did we upset the balance
Of why your blind?

Did we overwhelm you
Did we grind
Did we speak in truths
On the meaning of kind?

Did we prepare you
Did we teach your mind
Will we salute you
For your timely rhymes?

Credit: NASA / JPL

Angel shadows
Walk on air
Walk beneath a level of reality
That you, alone , are aware.

Ask your reflection
Ask your dark glare
How it interacts
Alone, with your Shadow’s stare.

Tricky tributaries of light
Secure their features
In their obliqueness of friction
In their uniqueness of function
And in their ability to chaoticaly correct.

Correcting chaos of light
Succombs in randomess
In its inability to value logic
Its cupability to directional freelancing
And in its ongoing attempt to reflect.

Coming down from heaven
The three alone men
Ask themselves why?
What is their purpose
What is their methodology
To understand.

Returning from the present
The three alone men
Position their questions
Solidify their posture
And sanctify their disciples
To understand
Nothing.

Concrete realities
For inapparant pleasure
Are separate paralysis
For inseparable pressure.

Quantum realities
For apparent measure
Are incomparable models
For comparable treasures.

Credit: CICLOPS

Warming action in ancient seas

Where water is free

To be.

Weathered targets burnt and reamed

Where ice is sworn

To be.

Wishing in astonishment

Where She is sure,

To be.

Credit: NASA / JPL

Dogs in winter
wince in sound
grimace in hunger
with fists to the ground.

Dogs in summer
whip and scream
glare in paralisis
too tough to be seen.

Dogs in anger
with white hot dreams
want to be able
to make junkyard teams.