First Light Machine

Credit: CICLOPS

A crescent wave
Beneath me shakes
A shriek of pain
With a path to make.

Increasing feeling
At heaven’s gate
A shout in anger
A forlong fate.

A pain removed
In life’s last fake
A silent thank you
For a moments break.

Credit: NASA

Snakes sniffing
In my yard
Encourage interspection
Into what’s hard.

Sniffing fakes
In my home
Enlist forgivess
With no feelings shown.

Fakeing shakes
In my mind
Ecounters light
Where vision’s blind.

Credit: NASA

Let’s talk about
Your fear.
Can you sense where it sits?
Is it driving you out of your wits?

Let’s talk about it
Out loud.
Is it your face or grace or pace?
Do you look like you come from space?

Let’s talk about
Your pain.
It is family or work or profession?
Do you covet and scowl with obsession?

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.