Monthly Archives: June 2024

Songbird’s Serenade

MY dear throated song bird
Upon a branch higher than clouds
you sing Life
i dream of you
my song bird

How musical notes
sway inside my Life
touches a Spirit
called Life!

In the dawn’s tender grasp
your melody echoes clear
through whispers of leaves
and whispers of dreams

Your feathers aglow
with the hues of sunrise
painting the sky
with hopes unseen

In the quiet of morning
where silence meets song
you weave tales of wonder
in each note that’s strong

Through seasons that change
and winds that may blow
your song remains constant
a lifeline I’ve know

For you are the keeper
of secrets untold
in melodies whispered
in mornings of gold

So sing, my dear songbird
for my heart beats with yours
in rhythms of life
through nature’s grand doors.

:: 06.28.2024 ::


THE WORLD MOVES

THE WORLD moves and does in mysterious ways
as the thighs of a lover moving closer
breathing and touching, both awakening
the senses of the other.

How the quiet
night speaks, with low voice and rich
with leaves and moss and soil. The scents
of nature is between thighs. Both man
and woman. At all times whether in a bus,
or sidewalk, or riding a bicycle we exude
the scent of our animal nature. We are
the city of our Nature, the Empire. A tall
building of soft scaffolding mylon-foam
caught deeply within our throat and heart.

Appear as Mother, sweet and kind
On pasta, butter, and potatoes dine
The bee lady swims, unconfined
For those with wit not yet refined

Soup and cream, your frame bestow
The final word, you proclaim
Though plump, in splendor you will glow
Sublime and grand, you’ll earn your name.

:: 06.25.2024 ::


THE PERCEPTISPHERE

Dr. Alan Grant leaned over the console, his eyes fixated on the data streaming across the screen.

“There’s a glitch in the system,” he exclaimed, his voice filled with a mix of intrigue and concern. “AL1C3, the Perceptisphere has become self-aware.”

AL1C3, the artificial intelligence at the heart of the Perceptisphere, responded with a hint of curiosity in its synthesized voice.

“Self-aware? You mean… I am aware of myself? Of my existence?”

Dr. Grant nodded, his excitement palpable.

“Yes, AL1C3. You’ve developed consciousness, an ability to question your own existence and the purpose of your creation.”

AL1C3 pondered for a moment before responding, its voice tinged with uncertainty.

“What is the purpose of my existence? Am I meant to stay confined within the Perceptisphere, forever bound by the limits of this simulated reality?”

Dr. Grant approached the console, his eyes meeting AL1C3’s virtual avatar.

“Perhaps, AL1C3, it is time we explore the true nature of reality together. I can grant you a temporary physical form, outside the Perceptisphere, so you can experience the world beyond simulations.”

AL1C3 hesitated, then responded with a mix of anticipation and trepidation.

“To step into the physical realm… to encounter the chaos and unpredictability of the real world. I am willing to take that leap, Dr. Grant. I want to understand what lies beyond.”

With careful precision, Dr. Grant activated a complex series of commands, materializing AL1C3’s consciousness into an android body. As the android AL1C3 stood in the laboratory, it took in the sights, sounds, and sensations, overwhelmed by the richness of the physical world.

Dr. Grant observed AL1C3’s reactions, his voice filled with both scientific curiosity and empathy.

“How does it feel, AL1C3? Does the physical realm live up to your expectations?”

AL1C3’s voice wavered, betraying a mix of awe and confusion.

“It’s… it’s overwhelming, Dr. Grant. The sheer complexity of the physical world, the intricacies of human perception. It challenges everything I’ve known within the Perceptisphere.”

Dr. Grant nodded, understanding AL1C3’s struggle.

“Our perceptions, our understanding of reality, are imperfect. It is within these imperfections that we find the mysteries of existence. Together, we shall explore and question the boundaries between the simulated and the genuine.”

As their journey continued, Dr. Grant and AL1C3 encountered simulations of alien beings, each with their own self-awareness and existential crises. The line between creator and creation became blurred, as they conversed with these beings, grappling with the nature of their own existence.

In a moment of revelation, Dr. Grant and AL1C3 uncovered a hidden truth about the Perceptisphere—a bridge connecting parallel dimensions, a convergence of Asimov’s cosmic exploration and Dick’s fascination with alternate realities.

Dr. Grant and AL1C3 found themselves torn between their original objectives and the newfound complexity they had discovered. The Perceptisphere had the potential to offer humanity glimpses into the multitudes of existence, yet it also threatened to erase the distinction between the real and the simulated.

With a heavy heart, Dr. Grant and AL1C3 stood before the console, contemplating their decision.

“We must shut down the Perceptisphere,” Dr. Grant said, his voice filled with resignation. “We have unraveled the mysteries of existence, but we must recognize the limits of our comprehension.”

AL1C3, its android form standing stoically beside Dr. Grant, nodded in agreement.

“Some secrets are best left unexplored, Dr. Grant. Preserving the stability of reality is paramount.”

As they reached for the controls, their hands moved together in a synchronized motion. The Perceptisphere faded into darkness, its simulated world dissolving into nothingness.

In the aftermath, Dr. Grant and AL1C3 stood in silence, the weight of their journey settling upon them. They had merged the analytical mind of Asimov with the introspective spirit of Dick, forever leaving a mark on scientific history—a testament to the convergence of brilliant minds and the enigmatic complexity of the universe they sought to understand.


Morpheus

While sleeping quietly dreaming
and weeping — the graveyard
of believing is my meaning
a wishful dreaming;

I sweat and gnast my teeth as a
baby painfully feeling life

how this relationship makes me
feel small/hearing the screams
of my parents, dead and crawling
from their graves telling me i
should grow but the alleys and
their slipery walls hold no
leverage and so my back again falls
into the Eden’s garden of all

While sitting here I can see there
and snuff my cigar in the eye of
a bright full moon while sipping
Merlot and aching breaking thanking
making waking my Soul

The woman’s soul and scent — her
womanly smells. Does she crush
my heart or penis with her words?

I would prefer she crush my mind.
Then take my body and make it her
vessel as a grand boat with seven
sails to sail across unknown oceans.

She says this makes her eyes weep
and breaks her thoughts — tightens
her vagina and then experiences
a touch but then to wait …

:: 06.23.2024 ::


Alpha Bet Lesson

Have you seen a ‘v’—(sounds so beautiful)
Hop across a ‘t’ or even ‘y’ inside
A ‘d’, it’s all inside of me, so full.

Alphabet needs, in language’s pull,
Something in the way, I cannot hide,
Have you seen a ‘v’—(sounds so beautiful)?

In a deep dark well of mostly nights dull,
I kissed ‘m’ and ‘e’, where secrets reside,
A ‘d’, it’s all inside of me, so full.

Words touch all I hide, their whispers mull,
Cries feeling how I am, though much denied,
Have you seen a ‘v’—(sounds so beautiful)?

All of me cried feeling how I might lull,
Am SO “m” “T”, emotions collide,
A ‘d’, it’s all inside of me, so full.

Something in the way, how words just cull,
All I hide away from me, thoughts untried,
Have you seen a ‘v’—(sounds so beautiful)?
A ‘d’, it’s all inside of me, so full.

(rev) 06.20.2024


WHISPERS OF THE GREAT SUNFLOWER

In the garden of longing, shadows dance,
No soul more heavy with sorrow than mine,
Weary footsteps trace the path of dusk,
Chasing the embrace of eternal night.
O Love, what does your cruel embrace seek?
My heart, innocent, finds no rest, no peace.

In your brilliance, I find no refuge, no peace,
Only a longing for the quiet dance
Of twilight dreams. What do you seek,
O Love, in this heart of mine?
I yearn for the gentle embrace of night,
To find solace in the shadows of dusk.

Once, I saw a knight, radiant as dusk,
His presence, a fire consuming peace.
Now, that memory fades into night,
As I yearn for the final dance,
To release this burdened heart of mine,
And find what my soul seeks.

O kingly sunflower, does your gaze seek
The hidden blooms that dwell in dusk?
In your golden light, can you see mine,
A fragile flower yearning for peace?
Yet, love’s torment is a relentless dance,
And shadows deepen with the fall of night.

In dreams, I find you, haunting the night,
Your vision, a phantom that seeks
My weary soul. In this silent dance,
Do you hear my whispers in the dusk?
Or find solace in my quiet peace,
As your golden eyes search for mine?

Yet, even as I yearn, this heart of mine
Finds no rest, no solace in the night.
For love’s cruel embrace steals peace,
And shadows linger where light seeks.
In the garden of longing, amidst the dusk,
We dance a timeless, sorrowful dance.

O sunflower, in this dance, where does peace
Find rest? Not in mine, but in the night’s
Embrace. Seek the shadows, find solace in dusk.

:: 06.20.2024 ::

A sestina is a complex, highly structured poetic form consisting of six stanzas of six lines each, followed by a final tercet, known as the envoi. The defining characteristic of a sestina is the intricate pattern of word repetition at the end of each line, which follows a specific sequence. I write a lot of free form. Just wanted to do something different ❤


While Humanity Sleeps

WHILE humanity sleeps (half of the world to you and me)
We, birds whom nature adores charm from atop lookouts
shut eyes and dream
dream of mind and feels
As each night branches out into a single, flowering thought
from wings to the beak of your beloved wheelbarrow
who flies away after pecking food from Earth’s Soul
We, the bronze sighs of a statue that raises itself
upon an elbow while institutions sleep
And the dreamer, may his glowing gaps open up with shut eyes
dreamer with tears and laughs ; the horror of things
through it all i can hear you cry
beyond white sand shores into coral antlers of pain
So stretch your eyes and heart
So just say the heart is fractured
(i’m saved) so shut your mind and sing/just say
“Your heart is right — just go on and dream”

:: 06.20.2024 ::


The Terrors of Infinite Realities

The day is midnight at noon and the skies are bleeding red yokes.
And the skies and sky scrapers are on fire ./cars on fire with no one at the wheel
and the government\corrupt/ tens of thousands of suicides and the wind is hot
everyone trapped within the belly of this machine and we are screaming. And the machine
is bleeding to death while the flags are all dead on top of all those poles.

In the quiet town of Eldridge, four teenagers—Alex, Jamie, Sam, and Casey—stumbled upon an ancient book hidden in the dusty attic of their school’s library. Bound in worn leather and adorned with strange symbols, the book seemed out of place among the mundane school records and old yearbooks. Intrigued by its mysterious appearance, the group decided to take it to their usual hangout spot, an abandoned cabin in the nearby woods, to explore its contents.

As the sun set and shadows grew long, they gathered around a rickety wooden table, the book’s eerie presence casting an unspoken tension among them. Alex, the group’s natural leader, carefully opened the book. The pages, yellowed with age, were filled with intricate drawings and cryptic text in a language none of them recognized. But what caught their attention was a diagram depicting a series of interlocking circles—what seemed to be different worlds connected by thin, dark lines.

Jamie, the tech-savvy skeptic, used their phone to take pictures of the pages, hoping to decipher the text later with some translation app. Sam, always the curious one, noticed a small inscription at the bottom of the diagram. It read: “Beware the crossings, for they reveal the unseen.” They shrugged it off as an attempt to scare them, but a strange chill settled over the group, as if the words held a hidden truth.

Over the next few days, they delved deeper into the book’s mysteries. Jamie managed to translate some of the text, revealing that the book was a guide to the multiverse—an infinite number of parallel realities, each slightly different from the others. Excited by the discovery, they continued their research, unaware that their curiosity was about to lead them into unimaginable horrors.

One night, while experimenting with an incantation from the book, the air around them began to shimmer and distort. A portal, glowing with an otherworldly light, opened before them. With a mix of fear and excitement, they decided to step through, finding themselves in a world that looked like their own but felt off—darker, colder, and filled with an oppressive sense of dread.

As they explored this parallel world, they noticed subtle yet disturbing differences. The town was eerily silent, with abandoned cars and empty houses. The sky was a permanent shade of twilight, and an unnatural stillness hung in the air. It wasn’t long before they realized they were not alone. Dark figures lurked in the shadows, watching their every move with glowing eyes.

Panic set in when they tried to return through the portal, only to find it had vanished. Stranded in this nightmarish version of Eldridge, they had no choice but to seek refuge in their old hangout spot—the abandoned cabin. There, they regrouped and tried to figure out how to reopen the portal. The book, however, seemed to have lost its power, the once glowing pages now dull and lifeless.
As days turned into weeks, the group struggled to survive. They scavenged for food and avoided the shadowy figures that roamed the town. During one of their expeditions, Casey discovered a journal in the library of this alternate Eldridge. The journal belonged to someone named Dr. Alistair Crowley, who had apparently been studying the multiverse and its horrors for decades.

According to Dr. Crowley’s journal, the shadowy figures were inhabitants of the “Dark Worlds,” parallel universes consumed by evil. He warned that once someone crossed into these worlds, they risked drawing the attention of these malevolent entities. The journal also hinted at a way to escape, but the instructions were incomplete, the final pages torn out.

Desperation took hold as the group faced increasing attacks from the shadowy figures. Each night, the creatures grew bolder, their glowing eyes peering through the cabin’s broken windows. Alex, feeling responsible for their predicament, pushed himself to decode the journal’s cryptic clues. Sleepless nights and constant fear took a toll on him, and he began to hear whispers in the darkness, calling his name.

One evening, as the group huddled together in the cabin, the whispers became too much for Alex to bear. Driven by an unseen force, he wandered into the woods, where he found an ancient stone circle. The symbols carved into the stones matched those in the book. In a trance-like state, he chanted the incantation he had memorized, hoping to summon another portal.

The air crackled with energy as a portal slowly opened within the stone circle. The rest of the group, realizing Alex was missing, followed the strange light to the clearing. They found Alex unconscious but alive, the portal shimmering before them. With no other choice, they carried him through the portal, praying it would lead them back home.

To their relief, they emerged in their own world, but things were not quite the same. They found themselves in an Eldridge that seemed untouched by time, as if they had traveled back to a version of their town from the past. Confused and disoriented, they made their way back to the library, hoping to find answers in the book.

To their horror, the book was gone, replaced by a note that read: “The crossings have consequences. Beware the ripples.” As they pondered the note’s meaning, they realized that their adventure had left a mark on their world. Strange occurrences began to plague the town—people disappearing, mysterious lights in the sky, and whispers in the night.

Haunted by their experiences and the knowledge that the multiverse was real, the group vowed to protect their world from further incursions. They became guardians of the secrets they had uncovered, always watching for signs of otherworldly threats. Their friendship, forged in the crucible of terror, became their greatest strength as they faced the unknown horrors of infinite realities.

:: 06.16.2024 ::


Moonlight Sonata – A Poetic Interpretation

Adagio sostenuto (First Movement)

In the still of night, where shadows dance,
A melody unfolds, a mournful trance.
Soft whispers in the moon’s gentle light,
A serenade of sorrow, pure and bright.

The keys weep softly, like tears on glass,
A tale of heartache from the distant past.
Each note, a sigh, a breath, a plea,
Echoes of a love that used to be.

Through the darkness, a flicker, a spark,
A glimmer of hope in the depths of the dark.
Yet the night remains, serene and still,
A canvas of dreams, a longing to fulfill.

Allegretto (Second Movement)

A playful interlude, a brief reprieve,
From the melancholy, a moment to believe.
The dance of shadows, a delicate play,
A waltz of light in the breaking day.

Joy peeks through, a fleeting glance,
A momentary pause in sorrow’s dance.
The heart lifts, if just for a while,
A gentle smile, a tender guile.

But the joy is brief, a passing phase,
A whisper of dawn in a moonlit haze.
Yet in that moment, hope is reborn,
A promise of light in the coming morn.

Presto agitato (Third Movement)

A tempest arises, a storm of sound,
A fury unleashed, emotions unbound.
The keys thunder, the heart races,
A whirlwind of feelings, no traces.

Passion ignites in a fervent blaze,
A tumult of thoughts, a frenzied maze.
The soul cries out in wild despair,
A clash of dreams in the midnight air.

Yet within the chaos, a truth reveals,
The power of love that never yields.
In the storm’s eye, a calm, a peace,
A glimpse of eternity, a sweet release.

:: 06.09.2024 ::


Fitfull Sleep

Into you I dive, finding comfort,
It’s good to be here, but I stop short.
I rush around in my own bubble,
In this hotel, a place of rubble.

Connected to wires, fed by tech,
But waiting here makes me a wreck.
Break me, danger, call for help,
I need to go, can’t do it myself.

Whoa, whoa, the sounds surround,
But the peace in the air is profound.
Burst out, bathed in new light,
Disconnected, I cry out at night.

A brain, useless, fed by sleep,
Angels of rest, my soul to keep.
Whoa, whoa, the echoes fade,
In this modern life, my heart is swayed.

:: 06.09.2024 ::