Some recent celestial observations

 

Courtesy of the CERN Large Hadron Collider

and the Atacama Large Millimeter/

Submillimeter Array (ALMA):

The beauty-lambda baryons particle

has been detected. Without this

particle, matter would not exist.

Resulting in a slight

asymmetry between

matter and antimatter.

Otherwise, matter and antimatter

totally cancel each other out and

nothingness would be the whole.

Instead, the part that

survived gave birth

to stars and planets

and in the primordial

disks of dust and gas,

isotopes of methanol

-mineral spirits -alchohol-

was present as a building block

for organic life. Spirits.

Is that what we seek

when we partake,

the spirits of corn

and barley... or the holy

spirit which connects

us to God?

The poets have often

seemed to seek that

infusion from a bottle

Dylan Thomas and Bukowski,

Kerouac. Did they find it

before it destroyed their lives?

Is that the sharp sting

under the sweetness

of whiskey, a taste

of the multibillion year-old

amniotic stew at the dawn

of light and galaxies?

What was God drinking

when last call arrived

and he looked around

and said I’m lonely, I think I’ll

toss some dice in the cup

and see what happens?

Did it come up craps

or boxcars,

seven come eleven?

And now we seek to monopolize

the power of the atom,

the mushroom cloud.

Are we Cain or Abel?

Truth is in the Spirit,

if we can find it. Cheers.

Marsh words

Raphanus sativus

Helminthotheca

Lotus corniculatus

Salicornia pacifica

Railus obsoletus obsoletus

Spartina foliosa

Reithrodontomys raviventris

Foeniculum vulgare

Phalaris aquatica

Avena barbata

Agelaius phoeniceus

Circus hudsonious

Canus latrans

Homo sapiens:

Veni, vidi, vici

Some things that are white

The color of hexagen or cyclonite

a highly explosive nitramine

compound commonly

known as RDX, is white.

Like salt, like sugar

like cocaine and fentanyl.

Like purity, like bones,

like bridal veils and gowns

and the last light reported

by people returning

from near death

experiences.

Like phosphorus bombs

and grenades. Drill Sergeant

said it was just for the smoke

not the white hot flame.

Oh lilies and waterfalls

cumulus clouds, milk and roses.

White noise is noise without

meaning. But surely we know

the meaning of rain and surf,

far away rainy highways, and

breeze in the pines. We can have

them as apps on our phones.

Memorial

 Congealed pools of wax

on the sidewalk catch

shredded ribbons

and black carnations

from yesterday and

yesterday and

yesterday.

Lost somewhere

between the happy

hour toasts and

baby snaps.

Cheers.

God's breath

The Oh-My-God particle

was an ultra-high-energy

cosmic ray detected

on October 15th, 1991

by the Fly's Eye camera

at the US Army Dugway

Proving Ground, in Utah.

As of 2023, it is the

highest-energy cosmic ray

ever observed. A single particle

with the energy equivalent

to a baseball falling toward

the centerfield fence

at fifty-six miles per hour.

Easy catch for the Say Hey Kid!.

When lower energy particles,

flung by the Sun’s stormy eruptions

collide with our atmospheric gases

they get pushed and sculpted

by Earth’s magnetic field.

The result is the shimmering

green and purple curtains

or cloven tongues of fire

of the Aurora Borealis

dancing above the polar sky.

The cosmic wind released

from the furnace of the sun

and Cassiopeia’s dying breath

spawn the cosmic gift,

the photons and nuclei,

the building blocks of flesh

and blood and bone.

Fish and fowl, frogs

and flowering trees;

butterflies sipping nectar.

God’s breath gave life

to the dust that became Adam,

the atoms of carbon, calcium,

iron and oxygen, themselves

the breath and ashes of stars.

When Jesus breathed

on the twelve disciples

he called it the Holy Spirit

and charged them to spread

the spirit in his name.

When T. Rex wasn't quite extinct

I can hear the song,

T.Rex pumping out

the door:

the pelvic thrust

“You’re so sweet,

you’re so fine.

I want your all and ev’rything

just to be mine…

But the doorman

at the entrance to the club

says nicht GIs, no GIs.

He’s all fashioned-up

in a powder blue

bell bottomed suit

and wide-collared shirt

open at the throat.

I’m not quite so disco,

at least I'm not wearing jeans.

I’ve been mistaken

at times for Italian.

But not tonight.

I say, OK, I know you

don’t want trouble,

I’m not like that,

I know how to behave,

be polite, respectful.

He won’t look me in the eye.

Nicht GIs, no GIs.

I could try to pretend to be

a tourist, from Vancouver

if I had the right haircut.

But I’ve been emulating

my literary hero, Samuel Beckett

with buzzed sides and spiky top.

My grandpa Smith

had hair like that too

in the 30s. Nope.

All these German guys

look like they go to

the same stylist.

Well, so do the girls

for that matter,

without the mustaches.

I don’t really care,

it’s just an observation.

I just want to hear some music,

have a drink and dance.

I know how to dance,

especially to songs like

what’s coming out the door.

Is it because of the war 

in Vietnam I wonder,

there are demonstrations

every week or so.

I’d go to them too if we weren’t

locked up on base those days.

I’m a conscientious objector

for God’s sake. Literally.

I don’t think

that’s the reason, actually.

It’s all the assholes who have

come before me.

Loud and proudly

showing off their

ignorance. Expecting

the girls to be wowed enough

to enthusiastically spread their legs.

That’s not me, I want to say

I just want to enjoy the music,

a drink and a dance or two.

Nicht GIs, he says and

looks away.

Inside the DJ is playing

another T Rex cut:

“Friends say it's fine

Friends say it's good

Everybody says

it's just like Robin Hood

...

Well it's plain to see

You were meant for me

Yeah, I'm your boy

Your 20th century toy.”

Apparently this 20th century

isn’t quite the one for me.

I’ll just go back to base

and read some more

Nietzsche, Mao or Beckett.