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POETIC FLIGHTS 2

Page 16

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Poems about love, hope and struggle are listed on the index of poems

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poetry of love
Iridescent mind
Translucent gem
Dancing with the changing
Angle of light;
She was always
Becoming
What she was not,
Until her lips
Suddenly frosted,
Her eyes simplified
To glass,
And her perfumed silhouette
Dissolved into a frail dream.

In the wake of today,
More than words
Or sculpted rock
We do not have
To hold the past--
Even a necklace
Of pearled thought
Is more like rust
Than the snowflake
That briefly settled
On her cheek--

Though not a single mote
Can escape
The cold blade of change
One constant
Is left untouched:
She will always be
Exactly this--

The single one in all the world
Of which no other will ever be.

poetry of love
never far from the unavoidable
margin
unrelenting undulations of day
rivers of night
beautiful sadness wearing away our hearts--
we'll follow our dreaming feet
ignore the insatiable undoing
imagine our unravelling
is
infinitely soft.

But what comfort, dear Rilke,
is this facade of starlight
millions of light years old?

We'll spoon below the sensory pulp
unpeel
thoughts wrapped around thoughts,
in this strange matrix,
though coming no closer--
this hand of yours
this atomic lattice
this wriggling mass of theoretical
strings
masquerading as fine, delicate skin--
let me hold it
a little while longer

poetry of death
Strange to no longer desire one's desires. Strange
to see meanings that clung together once, floating
away in every direction.
—Rainer Maria Rilke

From this singular vantage
In four dimensional space,
Your body strapped together
By your senses,
Tuned to atomic clock time,
Discern if you can
The edge of your dear world;
Within its bounds
Between surge of sap flow
And rusting of vine,
The unexpected will unfold,
The inevitable will arrive--
All eyes will glaze,
Flesh become horridly cold,
The signs well documented,
And then--

What then becomes of us?

At breaking of first light
Begins our drowning
In this black bottomless sea
Of stars mercilessly falling
Inside us;
On this möbius
Of secrets well-protected,
This double-hinged world,
With vanity
With fear
We strain to breach
The great invisible divide
Which will rupture
But once
In that blind conclusive
Moment
Of every thing we know.

How much less than nothing--
Or more--is death?

A strange, dark cove--
A dimensionless hole
Void of touch
Sound
Single ray of light--
Like the dead
Empty
Space
Behind your head
And mine,
No blossoming apple
No rain
Not one falling fruit--
Perhaps at most this:
Joy as unrelenting
As everlasting pain?

How much less than nothing--
Or more--is death?

With your high tech tools
Tunnel under the layers
Of this conscious onion,
Give us serenity,
Cut deeper into the pulp!
Unravel the skein,
Its thinnest, impalpable
Thread--
Deeper still, if you can--
Untwist the precious helix
Break open the nucleus
Pierce into the very heart
Of lepton, of quark--
Unwrap all that's hidden,
The core within the core--
Yes, find us the dolphin,
The tiger--
The watermelon and pear--
The wings of the fly
In your erudite squiggles--
Penetrate deeper still
With your cryo-electron
Microscopes,
Your particle smashing
Cyclotrons--
Give us this--nothing less--
The eyes of a diamond!

When our final day closes
What then becomes of us?

Does our spirit just dissolve
And our gray shadow feed
Only the indifferent worms--
Or do we burst open anew
As strangers to ourselves?

Or less--
Or more?

Above the rippling surface
Of this intimate flatland
What mind can lift itself?
Feel how
Uncertainty is the rule--
This world
So much deeper
Than the deepest
Hole
In space
Deeper than the deepest
Red, the deepest blue--
And in that lovely chasm
The sun breathes
Within our hearts,
Hope
Beats its fragile wings.


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