rebirth. a dream? a thought?

rebirth. a dream? a thought?

into the bosom of warmth
might I curl up
drawn in
like a new born
fern leaf,
sleep gently in that calm sea
amniotic womb
echo heartbeat in tune,
for a time-
escape the looming specter,
floating-
drifting in the dreamspace before rebirth,
may I forget the world, for a time,
inevitability to deliver me again
into the world fraught
fraught with perils
from the separation
into a single core
vulnerable as one
separate from the mother,
for a time
until I return to her
once more.

Notes… I often think of the end of life and what may happen (or not), I imagine making a bargain for reincarnation but I can not have my current conscience… sometimes I take solace in that nothing (matter) is really created or destroyed, there is a finite amount (which contains me), and other times I find comfort in knowing I DID (and you) exist, for I surely am, and my final fantasy has my soul released into the universe (or a parallel one) for we are electric beings at some level… maybe that lives on… This is something on my mind often, the unsolvable question, but I must admit, since my father has passed, I have had some calm, I feel like I can still speak to him, and he hears me, and I know the answers but feel his hand guiding me. I can not explain it rationally but I feel it. So the logic side of me shuns but the emotional tugs… and so it doesn’t matter in the end, but I grapple with it anyway…. your thoughts and comments are always appreciated my friends.

in the presence of the sun… –{{O}}–

in the presence of the sun… –{{O}}–

in the presence of the sun

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among the heavenly bodies we round
cycles
orbits
life rises, drowns and rises again
all in this procession
far flung on the flight wing of a galaxy
cast out in an endless ocean
can this be the only outpost of hope?
of life?
in all this, just a drift
an arm, a wisp of stars
our star, the one
the one we call, the sun
which has defined our direction for all time
such as can be counted and summed
in the presence of the sun
gives us a center
a ballast
a balance, with focus
a singular form in the form we always have known
our nook, our den
our private fortress
this little blue marble of life
a miracle boat afloat
in just this time
in my eye
to our minds
tethered to a galaxy drifting
our fate
lie and awake
open and closed in mother’s eye
all in this –
the presence of the sun.

Photo by Jonas Ferlin on Pexels.com

are we a marker, an outlier, an anomaly, can we be? just this little branch, this dash, this splash of hope dangling off a limb of one of endless-countless galaxies, can we be alone, even in our own stretch of these woods? the possibility, yes, the possibility is there, but I choose to believe otherwise; why? I could argue the numbers, the sheer amount of possibilities that lay forth with such numbers bound out into infinity, but something inside, a gut, a feel, an instinct, maybe foolish pride, maybe I want to believe we are not just dust on a mere wind blowing by, sure, that is a fair assessment, but what else? can we pretend to know everything, in our little stint, our production run here, the perspective is almost hard to fit, not long ago this was it, terra firma, just the earth, and now the discussions turn towards mars and beyond, but these are just the closest neighbors, there is so much more, where the voyagers have now gone, barely a scratch off the heliosphere, can this twist of tiny now fate be all? the trinkets on my mantle tell a story of a life that will be swallowed and gone, blink, and yet, we live on, multiplying, generations like a constant beating heart of creation, our self importance tethered to a rock, rolling around a common star, ours, as if the sun will blink when we are gone, or just continue on, until she too runs out of the gift, the surge, the power, the sheer will of chemical interactions will cease, and then what of these, these stories, these lives, what will survive if not beams, remnants, something beyond what can be held in hands and hearts, something more, something higher, and how will we know this transformation or communicate with the others? or is there nothing, just nothing, perhaps. but I would rather invest in the wavelength, the energy ribbon, the promise, of hope. of life. for we are alive now, nothing can change that, not even the stoppage of time, so I believe, choose to believe, we survive.

the house unto which you are born…

the house unto which you are born…

two storey house with attic
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in this house of seven gables
my crown
I wear
three pair one
from these windows, these portals
there stares
the observer, the owner, the visitor
contemplating the street
the sun, the trees
sidewalks buckled under root
curbs so artfully formed
like molded cliffs
assessing the neighbors
all locked behind doors
dwellers in dwellings
seeking more
but just that fatal one step
one move
the other side, of that front door
to leave the confines
into only what was seen and filtered
not heard, tasted or felt
from within these membranes
these walls
that contain, and protect
one specific flavor
one specific intellect

notes… we are in our own prison, we have freedoms but at some point there is freedom from this form, and none of us know what that will be…

continuation. hope. seed.

continuation. hope. seed.

white clouds
Photo by Luis Quintero on Pexels.com

bury with me
one day
bury with me
these dreams
that never came to be
and may be in the dawning of my death
they shall spring to life
as I may never be
so I ask you
bury these, bury them, with me.

notes: for me this is a circular poem, I am comparing ideas to themselves, in circles… unfulfilled dreams (seeds)… your thoughts on the topic are welcome…

Your consciousness, forever, just 9 easy payments of $19.95, act now and we’ll double the offer!

Your consciousness, forever, just 9 easy payments of $19.95, act now and we’ll double the offer!

black and blue electronic tools on green circuit board
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welcome, dear traveler, to a not so distant year, let’s be arbitrary, since I can’t be proven wrong (unless Doc Brown materializes somehow), let’s say 2050 (closer than you may think in a blink), given the commercialization of space what will be the cost of freight ? the freight of… you? firstly there will be your DNA and maybe a bio page or two (perhaps some personal memento or two), shot out into the cosmos like so much a life(less) raft into an ocean vast(er) than we know, imagine your DNA blasted off into the cosmos and found in four million or 40 million years from now, and the technology exists to make a new you, beats the alternative, as they say, but we know people will not stop there, our DNA will be littering the universe I bet (perhaps that is how we got here on Earth in the first place in some form), like all things our appetites grow and the quest for the ever-life will vex all generations forward as it has all those past, a question of the matter becomes a matter of when in terms of mapping out the electrical patterns of our brains, especially with quantum computing flying ahead at such a breakneck pace, so questions about humanity will ultimately rise,  will humans be humans without the physical interface?

phases of the moon
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Non physical consciousness will allow us to venture into all manners of space (and the very depths of our own planet, imagine a vacation into an actual volcano, why not? or a little skinny dip in the mariana trench),  population control will not be an issue per se in this maybe brave new world, your apartment will be your location on a memory chip, your choice of neighborhood might depend on how close you are to one of the core CPUs or a power supply nexus, at that point will we have evolved into AI, of ourselves? will hacking become a form of murder? even if you are just turning off a switch or pulling a plug, and who is left in charge, on the outside, the “fleshers”? the “living”, the “pre-comp”s  as it were…  What will social interaction be like when you have no form, will avatars be your body?  and gender? there will not be any, or well, it won’t be needed, and would people choose to “die” early to transfer into the compu-realm, what if your soulmate dies, do you follow?  Will there be people who fall in love with someone who has been “alive” for 400 years and decide to “transmute” into the digital? I really wonder how far away we are from such things, I bet we are much closer than we think…

and the whole crux of this thought was cheesy infomercials, because even something lofty will eventually be sold for “X” number of installments @ $19.95 (call now, the first 100 callers get a free slap chop and shamwow millennium edition)… but no one touches the king

notes… yeah, I think about a mash up of stuff all the time, maybe my day consists of classical poetry, string theory and some quantum mechanics…. man can not live on verse alone.. that’s a pretty good tag line… maybe I could use that on a blog or something… hmmm…

music, going cosmic ambient because that is what fits….

>>>> Stellardrone – Invent the Universe

as we are inventing it right now as we go… thanks for the read, pull up a chair and check out all the other jazz I am up to