Showing posts with label universe. Show all posts
Showing posts with label universe. Show all posts

Tuesday, October 31, 2017

George Gordon, Lord Byron,“Darkness” (1816) is the holloween poem this year

I had a dream, which was not all a dream.
The bright sun was extinguish'd, and the stars
Did wander darkling in the eternal space,
Rayless, and pathless, and the icy earth
Swung blind and blackening in the moonless air;
Morn came, and went - and came, and brought no day,
And men forgot their passions in the dread
Of this their desolation; and all hearts
Were chill'd into a selfish prayer for light:
And they did live by watchfires - and the thrones,
The palaces of crowned kings - the huts,
The habitations of all things which dwell,
Were burnt for beacons; cities were consumed,
And men were gathered round their blazing homes
To look once more into each other's face;
Happy were those who dwelt within the eye
Of the volcanos, and their mountain-torch:
A fearful hope was all the world contain'd;
Forests were set on fire - but hour by hour
They fell and faded - and the crackling trunks
Extinguish'd with a crash - and all was black.
The brows of men by the despairing light
Wore an unearthly aspect, as by fits
The flashes fell upon them; some lay down
And hid their eyes and wept; and some did rest
Their chins upon their clenched hands, and smiled;
And others hurried to and fro, and fed
Their funeral piles with fuel, and looked up
With mad disquietude on the dull sky,
The pall of a past world; and then again
With curses cast them down upon the dust,
And gnash'd their teeth and howl'd: The wild birds shriek'd,
And, terrified, did flutter on the ground,
And flap their useless wings; the wildest brutes
Came tame and tremulous; and vipers crawl'd
And twined themselves among the multitude,
Hissing, but stingless - they were slain for food:
And War, which for a moment was no more,
Did glut himself again; - a meal was bought
With blood, and each sate sullenly apart
Gorging himself in gloom: no love was left;
All earth was but one thought - and that was death,
Immediate and inglorious; and the pang
Of famine fed upon all entrails - men
Died, and their bones were tombless as their flesh;
The meagre by the meagre were devoured,
Even dogs assail'd their masters, all save one,
And he was faithful to a corse, and kept
The birds and beasts and famish'd men at bay,
Till hunger clung them, or the dropping dead
Lured their lank jaws; himself sought out no food,
But with a piteous and perpetual moan,
And a quick desolate cry, licking the hand
Which answered not with a caress - he died.
The crowd was famish'd by degrees; but two
Of an enormous city did survive,
And they were enemies; they met beside
The dying embers of an alter-place,
Where had been heap'd a mass of holy things
For an unholy usage; they raked up,
And shivering scraped with their cold skeleton hands
The feeble ashes, and their feeble breath
Blew for a little life, and made a flame
Which was a mockery; then they lifted up
Their eyes as it grew lighter, and beheld
Each other's aspects - saw, and shriek'd, and died -
Even of their mutual hideousness they died,
Unknowing who he was upon whose brow
Famine had written Fiend. The world was void,
The populous and the powerful -was a lump,
Seasonless, herbless, treeless, manless, lifeless-
A lump of death - a chaos of hard clay.
The rivers, lakes, and ocean all stood still,
And nothing stirred within their silent depths;
Ships sailorless lay rotting on the sea,
And their masts fell down piecemeal; as they dropp'd
They slept on the abyss without a surge-
The waves were dead; the tides were in their grave,
The moon their mistress had expired before;
The winds were withered in the stagnant air,
And the clouds perish'd; Darkness had no need
Of aid from them - She was the universe.

I was instructed in no uncertain terms that because it was halloween this Tuesday, that it was essential to post an apropriately themed piece.
I can't help but think a modern version would have the sun burning. But that would totally ruin the halloween spirit ;)

Have a great week everyone, I hope you have a great week, and enjoy the fun of All Hallows Eve - or manage to avoid it - whichever you prefer :)

A.J.

Tuesday, August 11, 2015

The SEP

Look!
Can't you see?
We're sitting in the middle of an SEP

We only look like we're breathing
from the outside

In here
the atmosphere's
twenty K's
of
freezing
and group think
has you believing,
hydrogen is water
and air
is simply there

It's a diffusion of responsibility
that cuts at the frozen heart
of a problem
nobody
wanted

A.J.
with thanks to Douglas Adams (An SEP is from Douglas Adam's Life, the Universe and Everything. It's earned a place on Wikipedia: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Somebody_else%27s_problem as well as having a wiki page: http://hitchhikers.wikia.com/wiki/Somebody_Else%27s_Problem_field)

This is a fractured piece of something I began a few weeks ago. It began with Count your Spoons, and may or may not finish on a piece called Soloman's Wisdom.

If you're unfamiliar with the terms, Group Think and Diffusion of Responsibility, also have their own Wikipedia pages. (And Frozen Heart is also apparently the name of a song from Frozen, which is probably quite apt, although I'll admit, a complete accident.)

Have a great week, I'm planning to have a bit of down time myself, and check out some great Tuesday Poem blogs, I know there are a few sites I need to catch up on, including Helen Lowe's and Helen McKinlay's, because they are always so inspirational, not to mention fantastically supportive of NZ poetry and fiction :)

A.J. 

Find my stories and support my writing on ko-fi 


And tell me which poems you'd like to see in my upcoming poetry book—2024? https://ko-fi.com/ajponder

  

 


 






Wednesday, March 26, 2014

Tuesday Poem: The Trouble with Time Machines by A.J. Ponder



The Trouble with Time Machines
(first published in Eye to the Telesope, edited by Tim Jones)



Turns out
Time Machines are easy -
all you need is
number eight wire,
several diodes,
and a particle accelerator.

Problem is;
every sad physicist
who goes to the
trouble of inventing one,
unlocks their past
improving upon the original
until there is no need for a time machine
in the first place.

Turns out time machines are not so easy-
all those redundant devices
are proving an enormous hazard
as we unlock the
metaphysical chains that bind
the many parallel universes -
with mathematical theorems that will turn your head inside out
(in several dimensions)
because universes are rather fragile
and blowing just one would
un
ravel

the

u
n
i
v
e
r
s
e

For more mind blowing poetry why not check out the Tuesdday Poem Blog?

Thursday, September 5, 2013

Apologies, Tuesday was greatly missed - unlike this piece of Vogon Poetry

I know it's very nearly almost Friday - but I do want to apologise to all my regular readers for not managing my usual weekly post on Tuesday.  Not even a piece of fluff.

The people who know me will have heard that my son is having a tough time at the moment.  Well, last weekend and through to Tuesday were scary bad.  Fortunately for no apparent reason at all he's been better the last couple of days, but I've got to the point where my brain can't do much more than make it through the day.  So please excuse the "wibble"  and contemplate the vagaries of the universe, but let me assure you - normal service will be resumed as soon as I figure out what normal is....

In the meantime...
Oh freddled gruntbuggly,
Thy micturitions are to me,
As plurdled gabbleblotchits,
On a lurgid bee,
That mordiously hath bitled out,
Its earted jurtles,
Into a rancid festering confectious inner-sphincter. [drowned out by moaning and screaming]
Now the jurpling slayjid agrocrustles,
Are slurping hagrilly up the axlegrurts,
And living glupules frart and slipulate,
Like jowling meated liverslime,
Groop, I implore thee, my foonting turling dromes,
And hooptiously drangle me,
With crinkly bindlewurdles,
Or else I shall rend thee in the gobberwarts with my blurglecruncheon,
See if I don't.
by a Vogon (Jeltz)
an extract from Douglas Adam's, Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy.

So Don't Panic :) and have a great TGIF and weekend, and hope to catch you all next Tues...

cheers, 

A.J.

A.J. Ponder's books are available through Rona Gallery, Amazon, Paper Plus and good Wellington bookstores.






Monday, July 19, 2010

Time Wyrm


         Wyrm                                                                    the Universe
      A         in Time,                                             Brilliance of              all
                       through Space,                     the true                              around
                                 splitting the milky Stars
                                                  and Revealing


#


there's a crack in Amelia's computer screen
and insistent
that I should write a poem
I complied

After all, Amelias'
lose their mothers'
to forgetfulness
far too easily.

So, should sudden sulks and sullen
teenage tantrums
tear darkness through
and through

cast your eyes to the
starless wyrm
of starry space
and remember this

A..J. Ponder - Amazon author page

Click here for more poetry, back at the Tuesday Poem hub: http://tuesdaypoem.blogspot.com/