NASA Image of the Day

Sunday, January 17, 2016


Emperor, thou hast seen the pierce of song eyes in the darkling mind, conjured.

Nightingale, eyes have seen a bird in every tree;
and every tree a gaudy mess - 'tis none of thee, he says in the grey shadows.
The shells we build around ourselves - skin, and careweight, like shields -
Invisible reaction to all we ingest and excrete psychically,
Absent building blocks of an automatic stop sign
For the world to obey.

The world, being of itself, but not in it, will not. Oblivious, it continues its barrage of aphorisms, analysis, and skirmish, feeding the carnage diet of Dr Feel Safe - but won't ever -  until
We are sick with the excess caloric kill rate;
Weak with our ability to erase creativity in an instant
In five hundred million different ways;
.....but too timid to fingerpaint, until it feels older.

A pen; a brush, a calligraphy stylus; a soldering iron, Potter like with zealous spark ignited,
Repairing intricate silver shards into a mesmerizing accessory.
Accessorizing discarded shrapnel into exquisite glamour, in mockery of its
Arm candy quality, with defiance, like military industrial complex roadkill, recycled;
Elegant on the arm and on the ears of
A plump, elegant

Jury, Jewry, Jewel in Sanskrit crown, unfurled.....artisan, cradled.
The exercise in expansion and prescription, trouble and cure, self-realized...
Self prescribed.

Poetry: ecstatic excess of a controlled substance,
Exquisite warble meld, sated.