Antimatter Chitter-Chatter

August 18, 2018  :: 0 comments

Why are we matter and not antimatter, or are we the latter and think that we’re not? Brought into contact the one with the other, the two would annihilate right on the spot. Opposites attract— some do— but in this case, it isn’t true; for in that mirror image clash the counterparts destroy their doppelgangers in a flash and thus …

Starry Remainders

featured in the poetry forum July 3, 2018  :: 0 comments

We are star stuff which has taken its destiny into its own hands. – Carl Sagan, Cosmos

Remains of stars adorn the sky
with nebulae aglow on high
in stunning patterns that romance
the wondering stargazer’s glance
or simply senses mystify.

While stellar orbs are born and die,
do heavens strum a lullaby
as all around the cosmos dance
remains of stars?

Might there be heard celestial sigh
when Man seems deaf to wisdom’s cry
and Mother Nature looks askance?
Will humans waken from their trance?
For in our earthly beings lie
remains of stars.

editors note:

Just complex crumbs, seeking the celestial loaf. (Read another stellar story on Harley’s page, about human place in space; check it out.) – mh clay

Goldilocks Tale

July 3, 2018  :: 0 comments

Once upon a distant star
way away from where we are
sentient beings from afar
told a tale in their memoir.

Having ruined their own home,
they set out through space to roam
over tides of cosmic foam
leaving their celestial dome

for a new pristine abode
where clear liquid water flowed,
with a built-in ethics code
in this novel episode,

thus to avert disaster
and avarice to master,
seeking harmony vaster
and peace agreements faster.

A star’s luminosity,
apparent ferocity
or globe’s grandiosity
to aid reciprocity

of living things emerging,
influential converging
for evolution surging
via natural urging

were some ingredients prime,
plus an agreeable clime,
that served as reason and rhyme
to detect a place in time.

Finding it was quite a feat!
They encountered one replete
with air to breathe, food to eat,
winter chill, and summer heat…

There in the Goldilocks zone,
though some aspects were unknown,
it felt right, that one alone.
All the qualities were shown

to be livable it seemed,
more so than they’d ever dreamed.
Sunshine o’er the landscape beamed.
Rivulets of rainfall streamed.

Neither torrid nor too cold,
not too youngish nor too old,
nights of silver, days of gold,
lit with radiance untold,

lands of plenty, sea to sea,
circumstellar to a T—
this would suit them perfectly.
What a haven it could be!

They might call this planet Earth.
It would prove its precious worth
as a globe devoid of dearth
where they’d have a true rebirth…

So the mortals settled in
with their tribal kith and kin
their adventure to begin,
standing firm through thick and thin.

Did they behave corruptly?
Their story stops abruptly—

unless there’s another end,
which those earthlings later penned,
when they’d waked to comprehend
that their faults they could amend

plus troublesome woes transcend
and enlightened truth befriend…

Well, anyway, let’s pretend!

Note: Goldilocks zone, aka, habitable zone, is a zone around a star having temperatures and other conditions that can support life on planets…

Starry Sonnet

featured in the poetry forum May 13, 2018  :: 0 comments

As guideposts in the sky to light the way
the heavens’ stars assist our human sight.
Big Dipper asterism holds its sway
in northern Ursa Major shining bright.
When sets the evening sun on earthly cares,
the darkest nights with stellar beams will glow,
regardless of terrestrial affairs,
in spectacle of grand celestial show.
But time will tell and truth be told at last
once all is reckoned from our mortal lives
what future we’ll create from troubled past
to be recorded in the vast archives.
For constant stars above seem not to mind
the vagaries below of humankind.

editors note:

Maybe our antics make some blush. That’s why we have red ones, right? – mh clay

The Cuckoo That Couldn’t

May 12, 2018  :: 0 comments

Is destiny carved or does instinct win out? What causes a species to thrive or thin out? Are queries and theories the puzzles they seem? Let’s hark to a cuckoo tale spun from a dream. There once was a cuckoo who happened to grow into a rare nestling that needed to know about all the whispers and strange twittered words …

Put Away Childish Things

March 8, 2018  :: 0 comments

Put away childish things
yet keep the childlike wonder.
Though dreams be rent asunder
our wishes still have wings.

Put away childish speech
but not the constant queries
that question rooted theories
which reason cannot reach.

Put away childish ken,
though artless ways of seeing
in any age of being
will find a poet’s pen.

Put away childish thought
yet not imagination
which sparks our inspiration
beyond what we are taught.

Put away childish things
but follow deepest desires.
Those secret innermost fires
burn brighter as hope sings.

Put away childish whim
yet not delight in playing,
then when the world’s dismaying,
our days won’t seem so grim.

Put away childish fears.
Nonetheless, through thick and thin
hang on to the child within,
the laughter and the tears,

all the livelong years…

Put away childish things.
While our dusty death is nigh,
the utter self shall not die,
and karmic kismet clings.

Put away childish things,
though then in mirror darkly
we face our image starkly,
plus suffer destined slings.

Put away childish pain
yet not sensations tender
for sunset’s golden splendor
or soothing thrum of rain,

therein the simple joys remain…
Nor questing spirit ever lose,
while on the pathway that we choose,
neither from love refrain

which makes a heaven of earth’s domain.

Still, throughout, with faith unshaken,
seek enlightenment to waken,
thus the bliss supreme to gain,
plus not to live and die in vain…

Put away childish things
but hold to yearning youthful
to grasp the learning truthful
which timeless wisdom brings.

Put away childish things,
and embrace the peerless state
of illumined grace innate
wherefrom great fortune springs!

editors note:

Heed these words, then need not wait to have illumined grace innate. – mh clay

Asleep No More

featured in the poetry forum March 8, 2018  :: 0 comments

The dawning day is like an open door
for voyagers adrift in living stream
to waken from the dream asleep no more.

When out of slumber’s seas we’re cast ashore
and consciousness resumes its heady beam,
the dawning day is like an open door.

With dialectic feet upon the floor
the thinker frames a philosophic scheme
in lieu of wakening asleep no more.

Stargazers, poets, let their fancies soar
into the realms beyond what things may seem,
for dawning day is like an open door.

Though myriads divinities implore,
within our being lies the path supreme
to reach awakenment asleep no more.

Deep wisdom handed down from ages yore
can teach us of enlightenment’s true gleam.
The dawning day is like an open door
to waken from the dream asleep no more.

editors note:

Within our being, yes! Awake to this. (Read another mad missive from Harley on her page today, more words for the wise – check it out!) – mh clay

Dark Matter Matters

January 20, 2018  :: 0 comments

Dark matter seems to be what isn’t there to be seen in between what we see. They dub it dark since you cannot detect it, nor can they inspect it with telescopy. Yet, while it can’t be descried, it cannot be denied for equations that irk to work. Should dark matter matter, would dark matter matter a titter or twitter, …

Celestial Angel

featured in the poetry forum December 26, 2017  :: 0 comments

An angel we have seen on high
sweetly watching o’er the skies,
guardian spirit, floating nigh
where the swan-like Cygnus lies.

Bright above it, starlight’s shining.
Dark the cloud beneath its glow.
What the tidings it’s divining,
be they gladsome, full of woe?

About two thousand light-years far
that nebula emission,
where budding astral newborns are
which bloom into fruition,

labeled S One O Six in brief,
has assumed an hourglass guise
shown in this cosmic leitmotif
as heavenly being wise.

Some sense an epic narrative
of verse macaronic toned
with golden rule imperative
that’s for centuries been honed.

Bluish wings like those in snowscape
fashioned on the winter ground
mimic figure in Van Gogh-scape,
after Rembrandt model, crowned,

blown from winds at center stellar
into that iconic shape
for a yuletide storyteller
to leave listeners agape.

Hot gas in ripples and ridges
with cooler milieu combines
as bipolar jetted bridges
sculpt the ethereal lines.

A frenzy of fervid motion
belies its facade serene
like turbulence on an ocean
in seemingly placid scene.

Man has blundered from war to war
blind to future, deaf to past
seeking deities to implore
somewhere midst the cosmos vast.

In these distempered times we know—
as did Sappho long ago
invoke a goddess, from below—
when fortune’s winds falsely blow

let’s urge that angel visitant—
Venus in her ageless rhyme—
to come in pity vigilant,
a needful presence sublime,

thus to animate stargazers
regardless of the season
to be inner space trailblazers
through cause, effect, and reason,

plus to tap the enlightened state
from where true wisdom’s springing,
creating beatific fate,
limned in that angel winging.

Then shall grand sidereal choirs
serenade in countless throngs
caroling forth our hearts’ desires
with a jubilee of songs

and help awaken hope’s rebirth
for everlasting peace on earth!

editors note:

On this holy day after, in echoes of merry laughter; for us, who jaded are, a hopeful verse from distant stars. (Another ekphrastic piece from Harley – see the image here.) – mh clay

A Stellar Fingerprint

featured in the poetry forum November 26, 2017  :: 0 comments

Its fingerprint of astral trace
singles out sidereal face
amongst the heavenly array
of stellar orbs in star ballet
that dance in metamorphous space.

The light dispersals limn with grace
celestial body in its place
for earthly mortals, to portray
its fingerprint.

Yet nature’s flux persists in pace,
as death takes all in vast embrace
despite what star one’s cast to play,
plus humankind will fade away
and time shall by and by erase
its fingerprint…

editors note:

A new spin on, “Which star will play you in the story of your life?” (This rondeau is also ekphrastic; Harley’s response to this NASA pic.)- mh clay