the actual pingpong of the abyss

in trust not
knowing how
shape will
manifest.

Looking backward
historically so
near so far
at the absolute
mastery of
Philippe Petit
dancing above
the abyss to
come the
only yet
foreshadowed
shock to the
system the
nervous anticipating
fearful system.

Looking forward
a tumid tide of dreams
rearing wall of water
fearsome blotting
the loving horizon
of oracular
potential not
yet more than
hinted at even
in trust not
knowing.

this morning
for the first time
of her own accord.

Purring.

Observe and accept
choose and act!

Cat in my lap

Quiet enough to hear

All the sounds I miss

When I do, but I am not.

Now, still, through this

Narrow lens

I am thinking of you and

At once, expand.

Hope and process got we going
going round and round
we look into we mirror
we see we battleground.

Every little thing we love
all that we despise
we see it in we faces
we see it in we eyes.

Pastures of pure plenty
privation pork and greed
we shepherd boys we sleeping
we wolves we full of need.

We voting for Obama
we voting for McCain
we whole world watching waiting
disenfranchised still again.

Still we are the winners
hallelujah jubilee
disease and starving plentitude
commitment scarcity.

We lovers lying on we bed
we dozing spent content
we kitten purring near we head
we new life innocent.

We scamper pounce we captivate
we catch we moth we mouse
we layoffs unemployment
we foreclose upon we house.

We harking back new deal new leaf
we turning turning turn
we fossil fuel we had we day
we burning baby burn.

For everything a time a place
we turning turning turn
we soldiers now we flowers gone
when will we ever learn?

We epic poem we poets all
we know we have to write
daunted we but hopeful
process through the night.

words that spark
convulsions of
convoluted images
freight trains
of thought.
How fraught
with hope
and despair
those words
are for some
for so many
who unlike
the most of
us cannot walk
are bound by
gravity to
physical stasis
or mechanical
mobility only.

I can walk
and like the
rest of us
mostly I have
been capable
of saying that
for longer than
I could speak it
sixty two some
years in my case.
Capable bodied
our minds take
so much for
granted so
much for
rock solid
granite.
But time
and the
elements
wear us all
down bring us
all down to
the eternal
common
denominator
by which
we are all
ultimately
conquered
and divided
into the
unity we
so often
too too often
cannot sooner
recognize.
It was always
there for us
in the mirrors
of our eyes
too too
often blind
to all the
other eyes
paired
infinitudes
of sentient
reflection of
our being.
Too too
rarely
seeing
our being
one and
oneness.
Unable
to see
unable
to truly
walk
yet.

continuity in question
nothing can be
trusted to be
what it once
seemed.

Empty supermarkets
not even trying
to keep people out
what clerks still
with jobs standing
around aimlessly
the shop steward
out of work.

Saltwater crocodiles
as if the sharks
aren’t bad
enough
primordial
conservation
of energy.

Battery powered
paperweights
sitting idly in
the evaporating
cloud. Where
do the electrons
go when they are
no longer needed
as messengers?
It’s a rhetorical
question. It’s the
primordial
conservation
of energy
still. It is only
we who attribute
particular value
to certain
structures
and behaviors
of particles.
That’s OK.
That’s as it
has been it
being what
it is isn’t it?
But that doesn’t
mean that it
needs always
to be any
particular
what it is
that it is.
It turns out
we can’t
presume
that it won’t
change.
It isn’t what
it was. It is
what it wasn’t.

Congestive
heart failure
on a global
scale. All
systems
going.

Spiritual vacuum.

these words
temporary rearrangements
of physical matter to
facilitate and reflect
the temporal flow of
mental matter what
one might wonder
does it even matter?
Indeed if one
thinks in cause
and effect mechanical
means one seeks
to find meaning or
not in quids and
quos in zero sums.
Slice and dice
divide and conquer
the modus operandi
of our prosaic
habitude.
That is what is
visible to our
sensory organs
so that is as far
as we often are
willing to try to see.
But seeing is not
constrained by
optics not if one is
willing to try to see
past apparent patterns
of cause and effect
to the holistic
force field of
karmic potential.
It is there that
matter’s antimatter
rearranges itself
into new effusions of
material appearance.

A poem
could
reverberate
in sympathetic
mental harmonics
disappear
and then
reemerge
sometime later
as an otherwise
unlikely
sprouting idea
or even a
newborn
behavior.

that we might commit
suicide—negligent or
otherwise—and take
the rest of the
neighborhood down
with us already?
Is it really
a cosmic crime?
Yeah sure it’s
a crime by any
of our own
value systems
that purport to
matter but
really in the
larger scheme
of things with
the Earth just an
infinitesimally
small mote in an
infinitely expansive
starry simoom
what does it
really matter if
the strange attractions
of one particular
particle change
their colors to
those of an
arch-rival charm
school? To live
and die by
colors who’d
be so petty so
silly so careless
so stereotypical?
Because after all
those of us who
really know or
at least believe
we know—even
if we know we
only believe we
know—know
that all is one
anyway right?
And if it’s all
one in the larger
scheme of things
then it is what it is
that’s all she wrote
fuggeddaboutit.
Don’t worry be happy.
But then here’s the
conundrum. If all
is oneness what is
an avatar? What
is that apparent
opening to a
higher dimension
that appears among
the denizens of
lesser levels of
consciousness
we the unwashed
who can only
think and conceive
in binary terms
of worthiness?

I have a theory.
At least it might
look like a theory
to anyone not
me for whom
it is actually my
Kosmosanschauung
my way of experiencing
being.
I call it the fractiverse
and it is particularly one.

To explain it
I need to draw
a mental picture.

1. Imagine a glass sphere
   of say twelve inches
   in diameter. Now
   imagine a four inch
   long glass tube
   bent into the
   shape of a U.
2. Embed this
   tube into the
   interior surface
   of the sphere
   so the U-tube’s
   openings each
   open to and
   fuse with the
   exterior surface
   of the sphere.
3. Connect an inverted
   U-tube to the outside
   of the sphere so that
   one end opens to the
   interior surface of
   the sphere and the
   other end connects
   to one end of
   the first U-tube.
4. What we have
   now is a structure
   that I call an
   S-tube made up
   of two U-tubes
   connecting together
   at the surface of the
   sphere and each
   opening to the
   opposite side of
   the sphere from
   the other.
5. For the sake
   of conceptual
   clarity let’s have
   each end of
   the S-tube open
   to it’s surface of
   the sphere in a
   trumpet-bell-shaped
   curving funnel so
   that each surface
   of the sphere—the
   exterior and the
   interior—connects
   to the interior of
   the S-tube in
   a smooth and
   seamless transition.
6. Notice now
   that an adventurous
   ant can take a
   stroll on the exterior
   surface of the sphere
   and ease down into
   the S-tube opening
   and traverse it
   end to end
   until the S-tube
   opens gracefully
   into and onto the
   interior surface
   of the sphere.
   (Notice also that
   the ant has
   travelled from the
   outside of the
   sphere to its
   inside while
   staying always
   on the self same
   surface.
   A topologist—those
   mathematicians
   who cannot tell the
   difference between
   a coffee cup and
   a donut—will
   recognize in a
   Cupertino nanosecond
   that the glass globe
   with the embedded
   U-tube is actually a
   Klein Bottle.)
7. Now imagine
   that the exterior
   opening of the S-tube
   is like a whirlpool
   and the surface of
   the sphere is being
   sucked downward
   into the S-tube
   and flowing outward
   onto the interior
   surface of the sphere.
8. Imagine a second
   S-tube with a flow
   from the interior to
   the exterior to balance
   out the influx from
   the first S-tube.
9. Our glass globe
   now has a flow from
   its exterior surface
   down into the first
   S-tube out onto its
   interior surface then
   up into the second
   S-tube and out
   again onto its
   exterior surface
   where it began.
   We have now
   what is known as
   a closed system.
10. Imagine
    now hundreds
    thousands trillions
    septillions
    an infinite
    number of
    S-tube pairs
    in the surface
    of our globe.
    (Let’s let it
    be infinitely
    larger than
    twelve inches
    in diameter
    to facilitate
    this image.)
11. Now let
    us imagine an
    infinite profusion
    of smaller S-tubes
    embedded in the
    surface of our
    existing S-tubes.
12. And again let
    us consider more
    S-tubes embedded
    in S-tubes and continue
    the progression
    ad infinitum.
13. Now let us
    define the inward
    flowing S-tubes
    as black holes
    and the outward
    flowing S-tubes
    as stars.
    For the sake of
    familiarity we
    can call the larger
    collections of S-tubes
    within S-tubes
    galaxies and nebulae.
14. The medium sized
    collections of S-tubes
    we can call recognizable
    matter for example
    mountain ranges
    butterflies test
    tubes redwood trees
    and polycarbonate
    refuse.
15. The smaller sized
    collections of S-tubes
    we can call atoms
    and subatomic
    particles.
16. Needless to say
    larger medium
    and smaller are
    only characteristics
    of an infinite
    spectrum of scale
    of S-tubes within
    S-tubes.
17. If we take this
    fractiverse as our
    Kosmosanschauung
    we can see there is
    a complete balance
    of expansion—the
    outflow from
    S-tubes—with
    contraction—the
    inflow into S-tubes.
    Thus we see that
    the conventional view
    of a big bang and an
    expanding universe
    is merely a parochial
    perspective in an
    infinitesimally limited
    sub-section of the
    entire fabric of
    the fractiverse.
18. With the model
    this cosmogeny offers
    we see that the unified
    integrity of the
    fractiverse comprises
    an enduring state of
    primordial oneness and
    at the same time a
    profoundly infinite
    profusion of
    particularity.
19. Everything we
    see in our limited
    scope of scale-constrained
    perceptivity is at once
    the apparent material
    of the effusion of outward
    flowing S-tubes coupled
    with its invisible inward
    flowing anti-material
    counterbalance.

So is there a
cosmic code of
ethics? I think
it is rational to
consider that if
there are ethics
at any scale of
the fractiverse
they will be
reflected at
all scales so
yes there is a
cosmic code of ethics
and yes it matters
if we commit
suicide—negligently
or otherwise.

over images of
polar bears swimming
in the open ocean
hundreds of miles
from the nearest
ice lifetimes
beyond the
radius of
their endurance.

What does a father
say when his
daughter says
she doesn’t know
how people will
want to choose
to bring children
into this world?
Into a world
without polar bears.

After the tears
and the hugging
we talked.

She wondered if
polar bears could
survive at the
south pole.
I immediately
thought of the
ecological havoc
that would be
wreaked by
translocating
such a major
predator.

Then again
I’m thinking
now that the
disappearance
of such a major
predator
would wreak
havoc just
as surely.

Pick your havoc
perhaps it is
simply as simple
as that.

School children
have been locating
polar bears at
the south pole
ever since white
crayons were
invented.

The human mind
will spin its wheels
and strip its gears
arguing about this
until it is too late
never coming to
consensus.

Mean while. . .

The human heart
should just do it.

comes upon us
in many piebald
guises like so
many sharp and
shining devices
tossed and cycled
aloft by the crafty
artiste balancing
on the unicycle
on the globe
on the back
of the tortise
swimming in the
desert of the
universal skies.

Star light
spots us as
we balance
precariously
as we invert
the balancing
act by artfully
juggling
our energies
our attention
our priorities
our hopes
and fears
our urgencies
our lives.

The roots
stretch thirsty
to the liquid
web of the
spot light
starry night.
The branches
clutch our
devices offering
them Earthward
as supplications
to the Mother
as if we could honor
her with but a
single dimension
of our busyness
our distraction.
As if gravity
pulls in only
one direction.
As if the stars
make no demands
upon our being
in and amongst
them and their
gravid splendor.

Where am I?
Where are you?
It was it is
a rhetorical
question when
considered in the
context of stellar
attraction the
push me pull you
of universal flow
expanding or
contracting
depending
on the tossing
of the juggler’s
backstage dice.