Sunday, July 29, 2012

There's nothing, to reveal

Death doesn't know ... knowing
looks. It can't look or feel
around for the answers to give you.
.......  ........................ Its one
answer's ready, and it's going
back to a home with no back
rooms, no father or mother
who'd prepare them.
..  ............................. Rheumy
eyes close, and a closed-up energy
takes its leave from mass, one leaf
rising up from the attaching soil
to re-attach itself to light.

Monday, July 23, 2012

If we gathered where we fit

We could gather
together, kinked elbow
to elbow, wiggly fingers
snugly knotted (not the knot

of a smoothed-down board,
the knot, all bumps and twists,
we tied when we didn’t tie knots
very well, but we tied them

close and tight), at the creek
we call a brook to make it feel
magical (that kind of magic
where frogs speak their curses

before they splash off).
We could gather
there, and not speak
the rathers we’ve used not to,

rathering not to be gathering,
rathering not to see how we fit
elbow to elbow, or how a creek
isn’t any less magical than a brook.

Saturday, July 21, 2012


For every ever
I’ve ever said never
to, in that very-very
nevery way
I have, there’s this

one Ever, tucked in the sky blue,
where the huddling clouds do
keep the nosy sun’s
and other prying eyes ever
away from it, and I’d never
ever never it. No, not ever.

Wednesday, July 18, 2012

hybrid high, high high above

If I'm in the gleam of this
machine, imperfect
in the perfect way
it limits me, where it takes
me in it, it takes me (placed 
in it) places perfectly 
suited to it and its suit 
(my suit) of gleaming blue, 
machining me into other blues 
where I couldn't be without it.

Saturday, July 07, 2012

Her bunched tulle lips

I addressed the wrinkled
face I made up, there above
pretend crinkles
in a pretend dress.
“Why can’t this dream keep me,
without taking me
from the waking sun?”
I said, and winking
into the yellow-red
as she turned
her window-wide head
to look at me,
she made me
the hushed reply
a soft breeze gave to her
bunched tulle lips, “It’s you,
who keep those two

Monday, July 02, 2012

Nothing from something?

Of all the restless minds in all the beds in all the world (and universe), it popped into mine. If "something" can spontaneously appear out of "nothing," can the reverse be true? Can a something also ad lib a disappearing act, surprise slipping back into nothing, or perhaps choosing to inhabit a new nothing when it tires of the other somethings around it.

What got this maybe nothing of an idea started was a something said by cosmologist and theoretical physicist Lawrence Krauss while on the Colbert Report plugging his new book "A Universe from Nothing: Why There Is Something Rather than Nothing."

I highly recommend watching the full interview (the clip is here), but the kick that got my thought-ball rolling was his comment that the universe favors something over nothing because "nothing is unstable." In an apparently empty space, eventually particles will "burp" into existence. Where do the particles come from? Are they the product of a divine indigestion? That's too big a something for me to answer, but not too big for me to toy around with a little.

The nothing-to-something thought trip gets much trippier when you think about the possibility of entire universes big-banging their way into existence where nothing once was. Ours is still spreading out in the spacious nothing it decided to inhabit a long long time ago. Maybe it will reach a limit some day, and return to the void whence it came, starting a new cycle, giving it a second (and third, and fourth...) go to explore all its unexplored possibilities.

Sunday, July 01, 2012


Into pages’ shine
a bit of spider drops lines
It disconnects me