SONG OF THE UNIVERSE

It was a certain rhythm that he loved
he felt it in total silence, it faded
in the presence of sound, a doumbek
of the soul he would describe it.

He remembered how it was before
their one God rendered him and his kind
mere mythological creatures fit only
for poetry and dusty library shelves.

He would have his revenge some day,
would condemn their God to a corner
of the heavens, an eternity to reconsider
the rashness of his narcissism, but

in the meanwhile he would continue
to rest in the heart of this constellation
hoping to go unnoticed, happy just
to listen to the rhythm of the universe.

UPWARD

The young child stares up into the sky
and sees in the infinite space
countless worlds take form and then die.

On the mesa coyotes cry
seeing gods in what men deface
the young child stares up into the sky

hears his ancestors’ mournful reply
in an atom’s interstitial space
countless worlds take form and then die.

Inside he sees his parents embrace
he would never think to ask them why
the young child stares up into the sky

At the edge of the sun, great planes fly
drop their payloads, return to their base
countless worlds take form and then die.

Tanks and Humvees simply mystify
as young soldiers, brothers wave goodbye
the young child stares up into the sky
countless worlds take form and then die.

First Appeared in The Globe Review, Issue 2, April 2023
https://heyzine.com/flip-book/4f02f9b80a.html

NOMENCLATURE

We really need to stop
naming new plant varieties
and comets after the people
who first discovered them.
Think about it for a moment –
they didn’t invent anything,
they just saw what was already there.
So let’s agree on a new rule
shall we, plant varieties will
henceforth be named after
rock bands with at least
one gold record, and comets
after random lines from
either Hamlet or Macbeth
but the person discovering
the comet gets to choose from which.

PHONE HOME?

Perhaps we spend too much
time wondering if there are
aliens of the ET sort among us.

Let’a face it, if they are
advanced enough to get here,
they ought to be able to fit in
without standing out, so
sorry Hollywood, it may make
for an exciting movie but
it just isn’t all that likely.

And before you remind me
of UFO sightings, just because
you see a bus stop in the dark
of night, you can’t be certain
anyone got off or on, can you?

TIDY

It was simple by definition
a neat orderly universe, but then
a Big Bang and all of the planning
went out in a monumental flash.

He could easily have corrected it
a simple thought would have
done the trick, but He made the rules
so He had no choice but to abide by them.

It was truly a godly mess, He
would be the first to admit it
had there been anyone to whom
He might admit it, but that lot

on Olympus were a poor joke,
and had long since ceased
to serve any purpose at all
save taking up library space.

So things were banged about, things
blew up spectacularly, things
disappeared entirely, and he
was left to practice meditation.

SETI

Perhaps we spend too much
time wondering if there are
aliens of the ET sort among us.

Let’s face it, if they are
advanced enough to get here,
they ought to be able to fit in
without standing out, so
sorry Hollywood, it may make
for an exciting movie but
it just isn’t all that likely.

And before you remind me
of UFO sightings, just because
you see a bus stop in the dark
of night, you can’t be certain
anyone got off or on, can you?

IN A HIDDEN CORNER

As stars go, of course
it is rather nondescript,
small, middle aged
stuck in a distant corner
of a not all that
impressive galaxy.

Yet each morning
it sweeps the sky
storing all of its kin,
even the biggest
and brightest, into
its own celestial closet
where they will
remain locked away
until it decides
it needs a rest
and lets them return
to once again
paint the sky.

HABITS

Tonight’s moon will look
similar to last nights, or so
we assume since the clouds
denied us that view again.

It will be fuller, more plump
less an empty cup, now one
almost full, spilling its light
into the all too dark sky.

If she is hidden again, we
will turn to our imagination,
for the moon is a creature
of habit, having learned from us.

ETHEREAL

She appeared without notice,
not there, then there, she
half angel, half siren, half mad.

She appeared like Casseopaiea’s
faint shadow taking form,
stepping out of the sudden fog.

She was nymphlike, sylphan,
demanding attention, craving
the eyes of all who passed.

No one spoke to her, whether
out of fear or disinterest and she
grew angry, larger still, until

the full moon was clouded over,
Casseopeia returned to her throne,
and the ethereal one was gone.