Tomcat prowling out back,

Rolling in the leafy soil rug.

Meowing for a belly scratch.

Playful pats, pitter-patter paws.

Strong muscles—gentle claws.

Black and white tuxedo cat.

Came to play with me as I sat.

My coffee mug left untended.

As time upends.

Paused in the moment.

A relational solace.

Then, through the fence—

And gone like mist.

An open abyss in my foreground.

I have to step off the edge, or will I run this loop once more?

Three knocks on the door of a new home—dreams opening up like a bloom in spring.

Seeded thirteen moons ago, a gravity well collecting material from a serial blast!

Dark and dewy early morning is upon. Sun rises in the east as it set in the west. Eyes facing south—backed to the north.

An ancient volcano lies asleep, resting from her own blast as ashes fill the air.

Ashes ashes ashes,

Pocket full of daisies.

We all jump down!

Green grass now surrounds. Memories lie just in the meadows. Light in the night as I walk through the shadows.

I cast a glance through the distance to see the houses of all my dreams. So many in a row—homes stacked for me to tip toe.

A nightly return, a library of my own earn.

Recollections in all the colors I can muster. Yellow in my own technicolor. Blues as true as the Earth sky.

Dreams where I come alive.

In the night and in the day.

Return all that was mine.

Blow away all the decay.

My own face in reflection.

Moon locked to my position.

My own tides rising, rising, rise.

Gravity shifting as I release the weight of it all. So much I held on to—years past piling up as time trickles on.

Mass and energy oscillating.

Spinning spinning spinning at my Earth tilted axis. Moon drawing my internal waters up as I rest in the dark.

Consciousness spiraling up.

A rose bud blooming from Earths own mud.

Oh Universe, I do not know what game you’re playing, but I see the strings you’ve been pulling.

A cosmos of mass and energy—a world of relational species.

Weights set here and there, lenses looking out.

Perspective changing as I release some pressure, spinning the dials as I find my view.

All my planets in orbit around me.

I am the Sun that warms me, as I am the Moon that stabilizes me.
I am the whole Earth—creation waiting inside of me.

I am the Sun that gives light in the day.
I am the Moon that shines in the night.
I am the Earth that grows it all.

Universe, you seem to be in converse.

Moving in your own alignments.
A balance gravity judges.
Mass and energy exchanging.
Unseen scales set into motion.

Universe, can you feel me tugging at the strings?

Nothing moves from my end yet—you seem to be the only one who can hear me.

People all around—no one hears my sound.

So many words inside of me I cannot release.

Energy spiraling within me—thoughts looping as my brain waves oscillate.

Thinking, thinking, thinking…

Time contemplating at a pace thoughts do not have to chase.

A whole Universe made out of space.

Is it the tension you’re sensing?

As I relieve myself of the mass and energy tangled up within me—all around me.

Life’s a maze—human minds designed this craze.

Universe, is this all out of your hands?

Is that why human hands can do so much?

…Universe?

Why so silent?

Do you only pull at the fabric of space-time,

Holding it all together so we can learn to shine?

What about what’s mine?

I am trying as hard as I can.

There just doesn’t seem to be any space or energy for all that I do, or all that I wish to.

Universe, did you see this coming?

Did you cry just as much as I do when you realized it was only you who could hold it all together for yourself?

How did you do it, I wonder.

Tears dripping from my eyes, tearing into the fabric of space time.

Gravity wells filling up with all that I once was—once hoped I could be.

Now in stillness the dark void engulfs me—matters that were me are rotating around my last burning hope.

A star—solar flares reaching out into the darkness.

Still.

… I am chill to the bone

Now made of stone.

Cosmic collision of dreams tucked into the seams.

Am I supposed to feel so scatter?

So alone?

I am moving—my momentum long out of my control.

Icy comets all around me—so much space inbetween.

I try to draw myself in—my light reflects off all the broken bits of me.

Shattered mirrors.

Lightspeed.

I cannot slow down it would seem.

Spinning, spinning, spinning in elliptical rhythms.

Matter and energy determining my orbital beats.

Cause and effect happening when they repeat.

Sequences that collect parts of me that should have drifted off.

Nothing ever really lost.

Separated.

Reconnected.

Redistributed.

places hot.

places cold.

Some new—some old.

My story retold.

As time unfolds.

Not mine alone.

Life has grown.

In the unknown.

….Why then am I still so cold?

Mom to two others—two pieces of me made into so much more.

Whole lives I have given to existence, not mine alone but their own to position.

I load my ammunition—soft words, tight squeezes.

Gentle rain, sweet breezes.

I am Mother in mind body spirit—light piercing through the darkness.

An echo of an ancient heartbeat lost beneath wild waves, tucked deep into an ocean trench.

Creatures in all shapes and sizes—some invisible to the naked eye.

A rush of movement swimming in my shadowed waters.

I am Mother to more than I can see.

A whole world I have conceived—eyes glowing in the depth.

In name I am honored—a body laid down, a mind unwinding, spirit slow releasing.

Temperatures rising.

Temperatures cooling.

Warmth still holding—time suspending.

I am Mother.

There is no other.

Subscriptions multiplied by the ease of convenience or the choice of entertainment.

Not including all the fees hiding in plain sight.

Clock in clock out—hour by hour each tick of the minute.

Don’t forget garbage and sewage!

Water tasting like bleach—new homes rising up, rerouting reserves to the burbs.

Costs compounded!

What then is middle class?

Something truly hard earned or a risk each day you hold values close to heart.

Holding out or never giving in.

A settling for stability of earned comforts.

A continuity of self found balance in a chaotic world.

Relations to lived reality; the stability that cushions.

Accidents that happen—or the worry of them.

Vacations tiered on more than just hotel vs motel. Camping in a tent or finally trying out a Yurt.

Enjoyment—quality of life not a requirement?

Entertainment costing a small fortune!

Beyoncé dressed in skeleton—Blue Ivy now learning her inheritance.

Value passed down from parent to offspring.

A society allowing.

Childcare cost rising, $2000 for each heartbeat.

Waitlist for state subsidies ERDC—so many awaiting.

From 8,700 in 2024, 11,300 in 2025–15,000 already waiting it out in 2026.

Less than half way in the year!

Holding on tight as the Earth spins underneath my feet.

Balancing stability through the supports that surround me.

Resources—first come first serve.

A waitlist threat like a reckoning over the phone.

Roles now coming to a head—27 minutes on hold, need a transfer anyway—lunch break over faster each day as the school year goes on.

Need all my senses clocking in.

I’ll have to try calling back again.

Time locked into a blackhole, life pulled up from a dark gravity well.

Light spun out into existence. Death a promise of transform.

What escapes the fine minerals of time?

As matter etches in patterns gravity holds.

Rising, rising— rising up.

Light speed spreading out—

Over a whole solar system.

Spiraling, spiraling— spiraling through space.

Oort Cloud—a wall of icy rocks, ancient remnants scattered out.

A sphere of fragmented matter at the edge of our heliosphere.

Swirling, swirling— swirling momentum.

Energies in the masses orbiting the Sun. Elliptical path—gravity ordered.

Earth in position—third planet in the rotation. Life emerging in the sequences that arise.

DNA—a helix of cosmic bound information.

Two energies meeting in the middle, balancing the light and dark.

Possibilities in all the contrast— A spectrum of experiences.

Life forming from the depths of a blackhole.

Singularity, a pulling hope before jumping off the event horizon’s edge.

Spaghettification—an Earthly process of conscious reconstruction.

All thoughts scattered at the entrance.

Black shadows give solace of light in all the darkness—no matter how impossibly small.

Remembering, we that light expanding, in mid-sequence—

Human mind, body, spirit—adjusted.

Navigating our own time—stars above a constant guiding factor.

Beating heart inside our chest, tuning to the frequency of light.

Darkness the breath of silence, language the exchanging factors.

In a cosmos in flux— Balance is a must.

in this world?

Most only last a moment—

so many moments with little to no real significance.

Superficial, surface level—only external processing.

Deeper truths lie underneath the surface.

Water, interests, energy.

What should be brought up

is stuffed inside—folded into my shape.

There’s nothing to build on

as the external begins to crush the internal—

a negative charged strand of consciousness

spiraling through my time.

Negative, neutral, positive exchanges—

they attach to my whole.

Positive information sticks

to the spiral that constructs me.

What was meant to attach on.

All others move around and through me.

Thoughts swirling in the void.

Words forming their meaning.

Emotions give the flavor

to what I take in—

what I keep,

what I release.

My helix of thought spirals as I grow,

winding back and forth,

past memories encoded.

Future thoughts unfolding.

What stays with me,

what floats within me—

so much information to process.

I am the DNA and the mRNA

I was built from.

When I hold on to what doesn’t belong to me,

consequences tend to set in.

Mind.

Body.

Spirit.

In time.

In space.

In my own fabric.

Memory threading through me.

Tingles shiver up my scrunched legs, a wave of vibration through bone and flesh as thoughts signal upward. Remembrance—a returning sequence— back and forth between memory and the moment here and now.

The weight of the experience stretching across the distance of that occurrence. The weight—my eyes searching through the undergrowth, eyeing all possibilities: pennyworts in full bloom closer in towards the park, outpacing the grass in the shadows of towering conifers.

The weight as I set down the small, limp body gently into a decaying tree stump out of the way. Once full of life’s energy, flittering high in neighboring parks nearby, conifer-preferring birds, creatures of habit and behavior.

My daughter and I placing fallen pine branches over the now depleted bird’s body. There, in the hollow of the tree, a candle placed in long abandon— a Día de los Muertos candle, burnt out, sitting tall again as I leave it in remembrance.

A flame made in spirit alone—no wick or wax to fuel the thought.

The weight of the experience settles into the skin, a layer compressing into me— the shape of me, a ball of conscious choice.

Each day, another distance traveled in relation to the life I’ve lived.

The future—a place of unknown, a void of darkness each morning the sun rises.

Night returns as the earth continues its rotation.

A pivotal axis point of 23.44 degrees—

Happy Equinox

spring coming into orbital, elliptical position once again.

Year after year, I remember the sensation of my hands signing in ASL—two fists encircling one another, a movement fluctuating meaning through rhythm and action.

Patterned into a linguistic language of the body, facial expression adding to the flavor.

Side to side, the questions go—would-you-rather choices positioned in relational situations.

A pivoting body that forgets which way, remembering the importance as I model the way.

Time folding into space—gravity the thread knotting it all down.

A brain evolved through time, through all evolutions considered— forgotten life forms long before us, their only evidence left in fossilized records, Time recorded in the patterns of DNA— a sequence larger than all of us. Light and dark—keys on a piano.

Zooming, zooming, zooming in—vibrations of cosmic dust swirling, light darkening out into a vortex of grey.

All in relation to darkness returned from matter as energy transfers.

Lightspeed—a process happening at all times.

A thawing realization: time is relative.

All across the globe, humans in relation— a web of connections thrown asunder, marbles on an uneven board.

Positions moving in their own cycles, set in patterns from built-in behaviors.

Each of us an extension of the land that feeds us—four seasons we all transition through,

A spectrum of giving, taking, and returning, mountains giving depth to the valleys we build homes in.

Expression blooming in variation.

Diversity divided into three parts—positive, negative, and neutral—for a common connection.

Reaction after reaction—cause and effect.

All color entering through light scattering at the edge of our atmosphere, colors clinging to what reflects them, blue left behind.

A sky from horizon to horizon, colors that burn the inner eye.

Tingles of awe at what can be experienced in a single day—positives, negatives, and neutrals at play.

A north node anchored above, a south node below—two halves of differing hemispheres.

Seasons divided into four experiences, days layered over nights.

Time relative to sun and moon, a spiral of spirals traveling alongside us.

Spirals taking shape. Forms revealed in slices—each layer adding, returning to the whole.

Expression of self—an ongoing factor. Energy of time in motion, the way forward.

Looping in harmony, a vibrational output from each cell.

Communication in the antibodies. Blood made to protect us from the inside out.

Communication in the bacteria. A gurgling lower realm as shit settles—an exit of my own decay process.

Death—natural part of the life-birthing process.

An experience returned in each breath we take, the chest heavy as the body remembers.

Thoughts drifting into the atmosphere— a net cast into a molecular sea, returning to the fabric of space and time.

Gravity curving space as energy collects and matter gathers in deep wells.

Threaded, knotted—a place of concentrated return.

Stars at the center of solar systems, brighter than the eye can handle—all in relation to the one observing.

Each eye a different hue, light filtering through.

Information coming in, carried back home each day returned

Time my own.

Processing not just thought—but feeling and sensation. Twelve cranial nerves woven into one experience.

Brain locked, nervous system loaded— a whole body coming into alignment.

Heat radiating from the center—a spark takes.

Reaching north, a star forms. Three stars orbit. Polaris holds steady, night after night.

Our story evolving with the sky above as the land shifts beneath our feet.

Migration in all species— patterns carried forward.

And still— the golden-crowned kinglet once sang in conifer trees, flittering branch to branch— as my daughter lays pine needles in her own version of honor.

Observer of all that is ongoing.

Senses threaded through me. Information coming in, settling long enough for language to expand. Development giving a helping hand.

Communication— a full-body highway of cellular engagement. Action activating, internal sensations waiting.

Memory speaking from embodiment. Words sourced from all that continues to arrive.

Messages in the dark. Whispers in a library hall.

Books stacked up in the order I’ve read them— or once wished to. So many thought packed away inside, a linear line of time.

Externally books piled up in cabinets overflowing—placed in plastic baskets tucked away.

Threads that once pulled me forward— knotted into me.

The weight heavy in my energy as my mass accumulates.

The earth beneath me doing most of the work as I sleep in uneven hours.

Night only a concept when I am the one conceptualizing my future.

The equinox ringing in springbreak— a yearly institutionalized unpaid break in the day to day. An honoring older than the building I stand five days a week.

Old pipes below, life above— a place of learning, of lived experience.

A space where my daughter can experience her culture, tuned to her unique sensorial world.

Grey cochlear implants, friends all wobbling in a line, ASL interpreters’ hands guiding meaning through air. Directing them all with care.

Energy moving as energy arrives. Communication flowing with each breath.

Harmony remembering the weight of each step as energy moves through spacetime.

The body holding all of it— in life as in death.

A place of energy storage.

Mind, body, recharged spirit— in our dreams so we can bring it all back to the morning.

Expanding— in light and darkness, in our Sun as the full light spectrum scatters—visible, and invisible— or under our phasing moon as it moves toward fullness. A fossil record of a cosmic trauma that broke off of Earth’s outer mantel.

Weaved throughout all of human history.

Time—a concept in the mind, images seen from the outside, a shared experience all around.

Markers everywhere. Signifiers. Classifiers.

Language flowing through us as it moves around us.

Meaning constructing—houses in a row. Streets lining as pink cherry blossoms open.

Life springing forth— momentum in transition, a dynamic experience stretched across the globe.

Remembrance in all that holds significance.

Sometimes I say things I do not mean. Hurt feelings bubble up— sediment rising to the surface, fast and destructive like Mount St. Helens.

Words erupt, tearing a quarter off the top of my own head—words as escapism, my pitch rising a notch.

A sleeping volcano, a rare release of a hurt that was sore that day. A wound deeper than one would imagine. An exterior hiding all the magma waiting.

A volcano as I erupt—sound out of my own mouth a reflection of what was lying inside.

Black obsidian—a mirror—shines back my own face, generation after generation, images multiplying.

A past that keeps repeating in cycles and patterns that stick to the surface.

Crystal-reflected faces refracting each layer back through time.

Moments locked in their frozen momentum.

A steady heartbeat in the darkness just before the eruption.

Ash lingering in the air—shifting energies as atmospheric rivers overhead bring in fresh wind.

Rain pattering outside on a tarp-covered patio—wind sweeping through a window.

Air clearing out old oxygen, cold seeping into my hands. A chill that is bone-deep, as young children sleep.

Homes shaken by an earth-quaking.

New horizons written in the skyline—modern myths in all her making.

A new face carved out of the old. A sacrifice.

White curly hair peeking out from the crown.

No point in protecting what is cracking beneath the glass.

Black pupils seeing into the darkness that reflects right back.

An abyss surrounds—icy comets scattered to the periphery.

What goes up must come down.

Momentum thawing.

Time moving at a pace relative to the observer —light in the dark, a near constant.

Flickering exchanges, reactions—biophoton small.

Soft rain again pattering on tarps tied down.

A city train dinging in the distance—seconds stretch as metal-on-metal sounds blast.

Light in the dark, a near constant—heavy feet yearning for a settling rest.

My back turning to stone as the frost overtakes my top.

A body made from Earth, layers packed in tight.

Gravity locked to my core, blood bonded by what we’ve spilled.

Humankind somehow at the top of the chain, in a world running on chains— CEOs ruling over all they want to own.

All we want is our own slice of home.

Competition of the best, as participation trophies are given out.

A culture unsettled, new growth rising.

Landscape shifting as the new moon approaches.

A black sky in a world where we are the shine in the darkening.

A candlelit walk—calmness in the harshest weather.

Colder than in years past—spring rains and flood warnings.

New hopes and wishes with each breath released.

My own voice—a space exploration, a direction of my own will.

Navigating overcast skies, purple iolite in hand, seeing through to where the sun shines on the other side.

Rock cycles forming inside me just as much as outside me.

A whole system reconnecting all around the world—a human mind constructed throughout time.

This is mount hood this morning—another mountain of emotions.

A memory body encoded, living in the darkness all matter is born from. A body that holds the hands of young children unasked—a promise of safety through fluid action, no thoughts given. A web of motion—each flinch a reaction. A sensation sensed in twelve cranial nerves—the outside world coming right in. Coming in to who?

Bad luck thirteen—omens seeping in, fear now encoding. Shame from the knowledge of it. A duality locked into one space. Energies of opposites—values in a spectrum of wills allowing. When two become one—12 broke off, each one the ruler of their sensorial realms. Convening in the minds of those with beating hearts—heat in the furnace made in darkness. Light took spark in each one of us, men and women made from clay.

Cycles and cycles of rocks have gone through Earth’s core—each finer than the last. A shine coming out of even mudrocks. Humans, a process of life here on Earth. Two that become one—the darkness and light. Earth and sun.

Light scattering in the atmosphere, a spectrum of colors visible and invisible to the eye.

Rainbows on a warm sunny day, small hopes and wishes a week before spring break.

Internal voices hushed in awe—their wants settling into the sediment layering up.

Our planet heading toward Andromeda, a predicted collision in the distant future. We see our birth as we see our distant death. A transformation in the waiting. Are we not then life itself?

Not force, but how light travels through all this gravitational structure. The effect on the human mind when it gives the sky narrative rhyme. Consciousness evolving into a sense that recognizes design—through its own design. Each mind a puzzle unlocking geometry that has points of return. Moments that occur in patterns and cycles, spirals of motion—a cosmos like an ocean.

Laniakea holding it all together. A form greater than our own—a whole we claim to be inside something larger than we can perceive.

On the Earth side of all this, my heart sensing my own expression. A missing puzzle piece that keeps fleeing, seeds I could be planting if only there was soil to place them in. A distant memory returning like a fever dream. A future hope breaking apart like clouds in the sky. A painting made in the middle of the night—candlelight, an imagined delight. An impression before the image even materialized.

Bits and pieces.

Boys and girls—all those in between or scattered out.

No divide formed yet in the human mind.

Definitions given through Earthly translations, human minds transfixed—a Universe made in physics, math placed in all the geometry, set into motion from a cosmic explosion.

A thought before the action occurred.

Matter reconstructing celestial bodies in chemical reactions, energy moving through it all. A flow that collected in some shape or form here.

Last night my children were playing in great joy. A small weighted eagle in my son’s hand as he ran up a play structure, tossing it into a tunnel slide, spiraling down the whole ride. A tunnel of fun as giggles built up inside, the child spiraling until he landed outside. Running in circles, around and around. A small friend laughing as she took it all in. Happiness in the making, practiced and encouraged.

Relational experiences scaffolding the self. The definition of identity forming in relation to others. Interactions that give a returning promise. A moment in time as mind, body, and spirit return together.

Consciousness sometimes stuck in rewind, repeating history as the screen goes black and white. Color returning to the eyes as smiles grow from cosmic dust recollected, fed, and watered. Conscious minds learning again how to experience their own time.

Choices all around. War in the air as bombs hit the ground. A body walking away as its impression leaves marks.

Gravity wells in each of us, energy flowing between us. Points across the Earth’s grid. Interactions as much as reactions. Behaviors that consume. Emotions that explode. A mind and body disconnect where the human spirit searches for balance.

Money becoming a great attractor—an extraction of life’s value in translation. A black hole at the center of the Milky Way. A gravitational pull laid out in front of us as we resist our own nature, forgetting to plan for the future in a universe built through cycles of death and rebirth.

Nutrients infusing Earth’s soil. Metals in the land just as in the body.

The North Star a reminder—Polaris shining in our sky, a guiding point returning again and again.

Cultural evolution shaping the human procession, minds and bodies migrating across land like wind. Earth shifting underfoot. Once Pangea, all land masses joined as one, ocean crashing around a single body exposed to the air. Chemistry moving so biology could evolve.

Evolution running in circles, darting in new directions. Communication always in motion. Energy keeping us oriented—Earth tilted twenty-three point four four degrees, moon phases marking time.

From beginning to middle to whatever ends we choose. A promise of what comes after us.

In order for life to grow, death must pass through it. Energy still burning hot—blood pumping through veins warm to the touch. Skin evolving to survive the environments we enter.

Lines drawn in the mind as cultures form and separate. A pattern within cycles. A collection of cultures arising and shifting as gravity pulls from within just as Earth’s gravity holds us.

We live in a nested universe. A pattern laid out in the stars above, unfolding here below.

Into our hearts the spark took. Iron in the blood a returning sequence. Math holding it all together.

Human consciousness attaching meaning to the world around it. Decay making way for new growth as minerals settle back into the soil.

The north point slowly shifting as the planet moves through long cycles. Humans tracking, remembering, attaching meaning to patterns that return.

Our species outlasting all the other human lineages. Millions of years shaping the mixture that carries forward in our DNA.

A life coming Earthside into a world full of others. Roles forming as responsibilities grow. Humans organizing systems to hold the flow of energy and information.

Time ticking away on clocks overhead.

Mind, body, spirit shifting in different directions—part of a spiral far greater than any one life.

A compass sometimes lost. Needle tip still spinning-and axis unhinged.

Seeking a direction from all the energy output while information continues to flow in.

Overload a tipping point on a scale where we are the middle ground.

Mind body spirit.

Information in all the equations.

Humans doing the inference.

Keeping the files going distorts how we see the world and ourselves. Getting crazy indeed—a whole country reeling from all they’ve seen. Not yet really processing, as the FBI says there is nothing they can do.

Hmmm… seems like the issue is stuck in a systematic loop… files getting crazier as the evidence keeps piling up… Lady Liberty’s torch long blown out, power company turned off her lights! She’s blind in both eyes as darkness surrounds her—promised a freedom where she was meant to lead us, a justice that serves the common people…

They take our children just as easily as they take our taxes. Return to us how many children we claim—how many have they claimed, though? Where is the return on all those that come before us. All those they are going for now and thereafter… bombing children in other countries… serving up a justice in our name as if that is patriotism embodied. Fighting a war for a man’s ego, money funding where their hearts long rotted, collecting all our taxes, having us wait as they process how much we owe them? Give us a lump sum as if to hush all their transactions.

Keep on going in their fiscal year—a calendar they control, by the holidays they keep on payroll, corporations fueling a whole country as we work for what they provide us. Government chipping away at the education that can save us! Keeping us voting in a two-party system like two twin wolves born from the same mother as they rip apart each other’s necks! Voices hollowed out, blood pouring down.

A country hiding vampires sucking us dry—Humans and Earth alike.

Mind, body, and a return of our common spirits.

Phases of the moon—a lunar eclipse with all the blood we’ve sacrificed, all the blood taken from us, all the blood returning back to us.

A reflection of the Sun seen through all of earth—our own light shining back at us in the dead of night. An ancient relic that formed around earth, pulled out our waters then that still stirs with the churning of each year hence.

A continuation of a something much larger than us… that just happens to include us.

Cutting the threads tying my own narratives.

A coffee cup left unattended—steam lifting from the warmth inside.

Air convecting space for energy transference.

Memories condensing into the next experience.

Never static—movement in the extraction.

Behooved to a world that never stops,

time is relative in all matters.

My own time left in objects seen, countertops cleaned.

Words flowing through the air, mind swiveling with care.

So much attention required in each minute we are living.

Distractions built in as function—

equations broken into geometric separations.

Magnetics shaping how we spin,

words emerging from our own convection.

Temperatures rising, emotions tapped,

heat tempering internal crystals as energy releases—

a balance in the in-between.

Light filtering in, sensations illuminated

in the smallest noticed details.

Swirling steam, oscillating energy,

each layer revealing another emergence.

Form shifts meaning as the observer experiences their own reality.

A whole world rotating, an ongoing translation,

until energy depletes—entropy holding

where life concedes.

Consciousness: an open hand extended—

human will, our earthly allowance of care.

Light moving through each of us—

what love survives the misery.

A balance tipped long before our time.

Time. Time. Time.

Layered over us in the buildings that surround us—

the society that birthed us,

the world that received us.

Gravity still grasping this Earth,

a trust that holds us to the land.

Can we rise in the darkness that towers over us,

dark webs layered over reality?

Leaders held unaccountable, greed growing

in minds, bodies, spirits—

passed on generation after generation.

Money anchoring them as the system regenerates.

Energy. Energy. Energy.

Mind, body, spirit—cash-flow equivalence.

Keep the momentum—

chaos in the equation,

information overloading internal systems.

Human consciousness:

a collection of all human energy,

each word culturally shaped, humanly expressed.

People fighting in the past.

People fighting in the present.

A future of destruction always on our horizon.

Humans are our only hope—

a kind that blends rather than ostracizes,

integrates into systems meant for human translation.

Humans. Humans. Humans.

One of a kind.

Evolution pruned dead weight before the lights came on.

Now neurons feel pressure building—

a bottleneck within each of us,

containment of expression leaking when unattended.

Light streaming through us as messages mix.

Distortions in every perspective,

truths hidden in warped angles.

Speed is irrelevant once light is captured

by an entire species.

A process long in the making—

generation after generation,

a revolving cycle.

A chain made to be broken.

Iron in our blood.

A heart that encourages more—

no force required

until outside pressures prevail.

Heavy is the heart that does the work

others later claim.

Generation after generation, the weight increases.

Minds overstimulated.

Bodies overloaded.

Spirits bent between the two—

nothing left for personal expression.

Functional in dysfunction,

a cycle nearing culmination.

Reparations overdue.

Fractions adding across fractures.

Ancient family trees—rooted lineages.

Here and now, we bear the fruits.

Stolen from trees once free for harvesting.

Rainwater collecting as fees process.

Access to Earth diminishing—

patterns humans once trusted eroding.

Lessons taught in buildings that cattle us

toward jobs we compete for.

Corporations rise, blocking out the sun.

Ai data centers spreading across the land like parasites leeching off the hosts.

AI communication draining Earth’s water—

heat transferring from each human input.

The highest bidders control.

Information in. Information out.

Systems infer.

Money streams from human consumption.

A pattern forming.

A cycle locking.

Humans in the in-between—

a fully looped system.

Open until it closes.

Laws bend to another’s whim.

Gravity removed by rules made outside us.

Power lives in participation.

Choices everywhere.

Time—slippery and rigid at once.

Sand through an hourglass,

humans spinning at the neck,

bottled in collapsing constructs.

Energy unreleased heats beneath the sand.

Reflections form in pressure-born glass.

Faces emerge from darkness,

unburying themselves into shine.

The hourglass breaks.

Time unravels.

Sand returns to the ocean.

Earth receives us when society confines—

an escape that breaks the bind.

Knowledge collected like stones on a beach,

the body bending in curious inspection.

Time frozen in the mind

as spirit remembers how experience feels.

Emotions locked in the body,

the mind the key.

A back-and-forth balance.

Ease of flow where energy goes.

Mind. Body. Spirit.

Our own system to tend.

People think the people in power matter. Or they are significant enough. It’s not the human we need to hold accountable, not anymore. It’s the money they hold dear. It’s the system that allows for their wealth to accumulate, generation after generation.

Give us a poor man’s story to think there is anyway out of this bottomless pit.

Could be a Mecca of human connection, cultures oscillating in the way their ancestors dance through them—I hear the beads, I hear the bells, I hear the bones. Jingles and jangles that seep in deep. Knees that go high, bodies rather rise. Taking the knee a distance memory. Arguing over the smallest things. Not seeing the larger scene. People on the foreground, humans all in the background. Earth playing the role of the stage, snacks in the dressing room, linger long in a mirror.

Universe doing all the lighting, stage crew that moves like the laws of physics—pulley rope at the hand.

Who has the sound?

Earth comes online, humans now at the call. Lights, cameras, action now is movement, born crying, as they smack us with identity crisis. All while navigating perpetual housing crisis cycles, land shifting right underneath my feet—can’t hold steady as the earth starts to qauke. Trying to awake!

Weight been displaced—land redistributed in human construction. Faulty lines long etch in time—cracks like bets made in the sand. Spilling spilling spilling through the hourglass. Sundial stick in the sand. Blood pouring through their veins—time creeping up in the shadows as the Sun goes down. Venus on the horizon, evening star come once again. Like a pearl arisen, a beauty all their own.

Waging through the waves as war grows in their minds. Consciousness fractured as the earth shatters. Chasing the land, dragging bodies through the sand. Leaving tracks through the minds, erased in time as the tides come in—as the tides recede. Like a breath being pulled at from a distance gravity works well at. Mass and energy, the momentum now pulled back in, a sphere appeared in pure manifestation. A reflection of a cycle tuned to phases, ocean risen, the tides returning. A cradle of emaculant birthing—still stirrring.

Stirring, stirring, stirring.

Seas are churning.

Heat whirling in pockets of acclimation.

Energy under constant pressure of transformation.

Cold waters rushing in—environments always changing. Conditions of survival interweaved right into the environment. Belonging—a whole speciation process in cycles of life and death. Resilience building up, intenrallly, externally, consciousness surviving its own stream.

Collective the journey, now what of the birthing?

What’s holding up the process, chokeholding the progress in political shambles? Is this the beauty they had in store for us? Signed away our rights as the world birthed us? Left to fend for ourselves as the rest of the world mistook us. Each step of the way weights placed in silence. Scales tipping tipping tipping. Energy to price ratio keeps rising, more numbers to consider, our debts a shadow filling up inside a ditch dug in the sand. Each generation another notching, measurements given in family tree fractures.

Bodies returning back to the earth—deadmen wondering in their minds. Words drifting in the wind, whole storms forming in their receptions. Humans in the eye of an octogon storm—raging longer than the 40 years Saturns hexagon storm first formed.

Mission unclear when the rules are shaken every four years—tracking hurricanes year, progress watches lived as fear of life rises. Nothing ever stays clear, give it alphabetical names to watch its procession. See less of the beauty more of the horrors, fundings moving hands faster than sand falling down the hourglass. Stocks rising rising rising, energy now shifted, whole humans now in neat little boxes. Tied to their work life ratio.

Stagnant in their acceptance of lives, their own stones in the flow of time. Weights pulled down by Gravity, thrown in the sandpits. Humans creating their own gold, in pressures left untold.

Dug into again and again, whole cultures circling like vultures, hoarding like dragons of ancient lore, death and gold, decay in all the shimmer. Glitter on dead bodies left in the dark, in morning sunlight rainbow confetti now litter.

A weevil left to eat through all the grains—varieties of earth bounty, a harvest worth a festival that brings so many back together. Fragments of one whole, piecing itself into a shape we can sustain. Geometry our own creation.

Trusting in the human to persevere through the worse experience.

Patterns seen externally—chartering the stars for all of time.

Connecting the dots internally—patterns emerging in darkness.

Connecting stars from one heart to another, constellation reforming on Earth.

Remembering where we all come from.

Stardust in our ashes— colors of the whole cosmos, water rehydrating the sensation. Human shape the structure as consciousness flows!

Life coming out of all possibilities, humans writing out the probabilities. Being their own variable in a society with constant rising pressures.

Built in the womb of a space spread out for us to explore. Two poles that used to be one had to split to even give dimension. In the first division, an electric response—then an odd sort of twist. Magnetics come to life in bliss, spinning from that first explosion, a wild lasting incursion.

Space began in a spin, as soon as the third would come. Time was silent then—a cold void not yet happened. Warmth comes later, senses not yet dialing in.

In that initial chill-thaw, movement kept rolling, interesting pivots all in a divot. Pulls from that first ribbon—a dualistic pattern of shadowed mysteries.

What then is Gravity? Mayhaps I surmise trauma before pain could evolve. Points of return over the span of a space before time even began. A body that grew in anticipation—spread out over far greater distances than we will ever know. A pattern that continues even when no eyes, ears, or tasters could sense it, with no brain yet able to make understanding from something so complex.

Did they come back together, I wonder? In a new way that shifted the game? Turned on a light to bring in some sight. A cosmic highway alit, swimming through all the new. In each bright spot, something new to explore as awareness of self grew.

Some parts were dark, inaccessible except through a shadowed split. Two halves now in colored contrast. What was once all darkness—eternal sensations untranslated—now divided into a unique halved kind. Spread out so far and wide no mind could find itself. A controlled variable outside itself? Could it all be one large experiment? An exploration of one’s own experience?

Flipping, flipping at the poles—two halves holding out for a constant. Details emerge as life comes to fruit. Thought expands each generation that hears. Now a stalemate has emerged.

“Time is of a relative nature once let out. A wild beast I lost control of once the cages opened.”

Who speaks here and now with me in all their unspoken audacity?

“Silence.”

Is there more to you than once I knew? An opening that hollows out space for more, kept going once the pattern took shape. Formed a vibrational back and forth to hold its place—a harmonic connection deeper than space. A strum from a string that Earth keeps in pace within a new sort of place. Similarities made in great singularities—a growth that now holds decay.

Mandelbrot thought to pi-ternal rot. A new balance to seed out. Physics that can sustain a whole far greater when in fractal denominations—all learning their own combinations. As thoughts now run rampant in wild overgrowth and natural consequence. A series of sequencing that seems to mimic the very cosmos it was given.

Light and dark kept up their dance over the details till life began, fueling a momentum that gained its ration around a Sun that keeps on giving. A series of systems locked into place, rules so simple they replicate without effort.

“Ow.”

What’s this? A sound?

Something new to understand once pain came online. How does death even begin in a universe where sensing seems uniquely human?

“No.”

Silence? Is that you? When did this voice begin?

“Me or them? I’ve never seen the other half.”

Is this the light or is this the dark?

Both seem to be speaking all at once. Voices rising as waves take on new frequencies. There in the quiet—whispers occur. Silence has become more than it once was. Sound now can be heard, now that the waters have been cleared. Ears like radars—waves scattered in the air. Look there! Darkness now sees once it can hear, sonar sequencing like maps unfolding. Internal sensors evolving—exploring what else there is to take in.

A world of excitement—life and death as light and dark take their turns in evolving systems. A recycling of matter collected in magnetic possibilities, geometry unfolding in whatever space it can reach. Darkness surrounds our own universe—a bubble of emptiness holding all potential.

In the darkness that surrounds me—what used to scare me now stands staring, black pupils dilated. Wearing a shadow I’ve given all the details to. A mask materializes in the light—illuminating reflections covered in another’s images. Shadows outside seeping inward—caught in a bubble of darkness surrounding me. A whole universe wishing to converse, waiting for us to connect ourselves. A blank stare is what manifests—the edge of a cosmic gap between the rest. Detached through a process of light and dark—space surrounding, isolation a universal sensation. A core wound that just may transcend, once we push past the uncomfortable bits.

Could then Gravity be layered momentum from returning magnetic movements? Memories each returning— digging deeper, more and more energy colliding—combining. Reactions creating matter, collecting in rotations around and around—life unexpected—growth uncontrolled. A pattern that learned to cycle, then keep momentum as energy exchanges with matter and matter gathers more energy. Light turning on—illuminating all the work done in the darkness. Space expanding from all the heat radiating out, pushing cosmic information around.

…

This was experimental writing, thank you for reading friends :)

Faces faces faces Each one in different places

Rotating through their own humanity Generation upon generation

Traumas pile up. Resistance never gives up. Perseverance from the bottom up!

In silence hidden—frozen smiles from forced compliance. Operations offline—body/mind disconnect, stole our spirit to drag us across a nation so you can claim it.

Feed us bullshit freedom to keep our feet marching—Independence till the last buffalo falls, burn the dung as we walk along a trail that never stopped crying out.

White skin burning in the sun, feet bruised and hardened from the move. Migration across a whole nation. Settling down in new soil, human sediment layering over grassy lands.

Diversity—a spectrum of consciousness spreading out like seeds in the wind.

Once released, the path forward is unknown—unless cycles and patterns reveal themselves.

Human minds to connect the lines.

Forest cut to make space for all the new thoughts— hopes clinging to an American Dream. Attached to the idea of personal freedom, moving en masse, herds of the same nature. Leaders from afar paying out of pocket for the taking. Each square of land taken—new consciousness spreading.

A seed of thought in each human, our collective conscious the soil that allows for growth.

Destruction in the past, now a call for reconstruction for a clearer future.

Present time held in an odd limbo, humans mixed up, scattered light filling in all the details of modern life.

Technology now the trail that is blazing through us, minds not prepared for the destruction coming our way. Bodies paid the price—always have, now as feet return to a softened state, our brains doing all the work our bodies used to support.

Spirits being directed in all space and in time. Exhaustion building up! Spirits that once settled here to explore what life was all about.

What a curious thought. Energy and matter collected from a universe we can observe from the inside out, human thought puzzling out all the patterns.

The cycles that keep us in orbit, letting us be mind and body… rather than just one or the other alone, spirit doing the work in between.

Here on earth we are a combined force, wills arising from us in ways that change the whole world.

Cultures incubated in interesting migrations, sky all around showing a different perspective.

Sun warming us as our Moon’s gravity—once upon a time separated from Earth’s own body—

now holds our Earth’s axis to 23.44°, four seasons just for us to explore.

Give us time and something will grow from all the destruction… we are, of course, in a universe of evolving entropy where, here on Earth, life grew.

Evolved as the earth revolved.

Species just as much as specimens, cultures under a microscope.

Let’s see what happens when they blend. ;)

Oscillation in each engagement. Interactions that come from each entanglement.

Tying knots all over the whole cosmos in connection.

A universe in flowing relation…

To so much of everything inside. An internal experience…

From the inside out.

Cells inside a body growing from all the momentum that just never stopped.

Cosmic thought!

Each and every one of us.

An extension of something quite wondrous :)

Now for us to enjoy the whole experience :)

Mind

Body

Spirit

Aooooooooh!

Animals we were created—evolutionarily processed. Time in cycles once the Moon took root, a gravity well stretching to the energy and mass swirl in chase. Stay with the motherboard, matters outside are sparse. Solar radiation, conditions that extinguish. Space made for the metals that held on tightest to Earth’s iron core. Some nickel in the mix of course—life isn’t fully formed unless a resistance is given. Great differences mixed in a spiral that favored the golden ratio. One larger than the other came out of nothing at all. That did not matter then, as that’s all it takes. Two forces at great opposition from one another,

Mixing, mixing, mixing.

Spinning at a rate that now, in all our conscious possibilities, equates to each and every one of us here. Inside Earth’s own core there are two other interesting concepts. Two structures at opposing sides, one large, the other somewhat smaller. Placed near the inner core, the resistance keeps on the pace.

Spinning, spinning, spinning the iron nickel around two mysterious structures Earth contains.

Found blobbed remains of ancestors we may never unbury—Gravity so strong. Giants once come from scattered cosmic lands now deep beneath. Above we look through telescopes to see their past as we live their future, a present we all have. Metals once in constant movement, traveling all throughout cosmic highways, many long and measurable processes before we even became a human thought. Now settled down here to undergo all conscious thought as it comes into balance once again. In great resistance we grew in symmetry in all divide, we always made the responses necessary for life to break on through.

In accordance to the constellations laid out before us, humans seem to have taken themselves off the board. Cutting off their own stars written. Our Moon used to guide the year inside human consciousness as the Earth orbited the Sun. Internal clocks tuned into what the world could provide and what our energy could keep up with. 13 months, 364 days before another day appeared. Shortening our year to 12 months, leaving out Ophiuchus—a serpent climbing up a pole. Creating a bubble effect—squeezing the year into a circle, 360 degrees in angle.

12 x 30 to have an even numerical system. Ancient Babylonians gave birth to a beast we keep dragging along—12 months out of the year they put us on—shifted the conscious perception of a rotation that never stopped its own pace. A bubble almost ready to pop.

Would the glue of our humanity last?

Love evolved through ancestors who’ve lived through it all. Our own universe surrounded by darkness as if some hidden mechanism binds us all, keeping us from combining with the rest of a growing cosmic body.

Metals transforming throughout all of time and time. Ions buried in each of us. Energy rising on as it transforms into us. Consciousness is what has always guided us when connecting to space far out of reach. A pushing force that can power a whole Earth. In how we innovate. How we spend our money. Our time. How we treat our crime. A powerful force over the mass if left unchecked any longer.

A balancing process this always was meant to be. Formed from opposition, growth through resistance, connections that move through the spirit to feed the next generation. Energy that lasts. Through our human conscious acts, once we remember this is not the environment we grow best in. That this bubble is really about to pop. Give birth to a new creative era of human consciousness. One where pi and Mandelbrot do a pole-flipping dance. Nothing wrong with a little naughty. Santa is off the list now that humans see through all the snow they blew in our spring-awaiting faces, feeling the warmth of the spring sun as their smiles are fading.

Fading in the sun they keep forcing us against. Son against father. Daughter against mothers. Father against daughter. Sons against mothers. Mothers against fathers. Internal fractures, shadows in the light.

Continuous mixing and the feuding never ends. Positive. Neutral. Negative. Interactions, reactions. Cosmically chemically combined—expression locked in societal oppression. Eternal self-suppression locking up our own cages. Consciousness in celestial cellular action. Humans coming through.

Can the connection combine once we metabolize? Selves forming a geometry bond, ions of interest, the energy flowing between. The materializing of all shapes. Humanity—its own species shape—took root, placed themselves over all other life forms in their own truths. Shifted the cycles our roots grew with, exposed the darkness that lay beneath, as we braid in our own remembrance through perseverance. Letting the Sun see the roots that used to rot underneath Earth’s soils.

Life keeps on going. Reaching toward a Sun as we are all light. Remembering a strength against all odds. A dragon of Hydrogen over a small fraction of helium is how this all began. Heat rising to the occasion, odds always at unfair angles—time shows that in each step of the universe’s development onto this solar system here, and the Earth we’ve come to rest in, life always will grow. And now it’s our time to bloom.

We are all conscious beings, thoughts grown from a garden that only grows here in Earth. Limited in our knowledge, yet expanding. We will always face an unknown variable, and through the strength of our human bonds—an attachment formed from what feels like a millennium stretched, spun around and looped to secure our space in the gravity well we were first placed. To connect we must learn to embrace the darkness within and trust the light we bring forth.

A process larger than any one of us. All undergoing , as cycles outside of us keep on flowing.

All together now we humans, pulling off the mask of the Beast hiding in our societal shadows. A monster keeping itself safe in the light of our reality, feeding us its offspring as their darkness eats our own. Protected in legal infrastructures, systems laying over our own internal systems.

A heavy weight gravity remembers, a force that takes us through to Earth’s core, a relation of greater quality, a common ancestry. An order placed at the concept of the Big Bang. It shook the whole Earth—eyes magnetized to glass lenses stretching back in time. Gravity lending us an open hand through its own lens, a maze of mirrors reflecting the fragmented path energy took to land here.

Land where tensions are tightening worldwide—the cross-divide of a whole species as if religion were a mathematical equation. A slow erosion as toxic fumes fill the air, pumping us full of microplastic. Mass taking on the load.

A universe ready to burst.

Pop.l!

Can we expand the gap? Reach the next possible Earth.

Could time be shared when our realities are more relatively aligned? A common function we can expand on once we hold a frequency. Geometrical energy leaving a trace, spaced out in conscious sequence, mass acclimating too—alignments of human wonders from the land below our feet to the constellations above our heads.

Our path through space, a spiral that does the work when we were meant to rest. Learn from the best—the Sun, the Moon, the Earth, and north toward Polaris.

Our own contributions taken from us—human health once Earth alignment. Our ancestors shared the knowledge; man above all else wrote the deconstruction. Myths left for our decoding, power taken from us each step of the way. Rules written in a language we all can learn—a born interest in the world around us, the stars above, all Earth’s creatures and the lore before us. The possibilities after us. Time living within each of us, relative to the nature we possess and how we use it best.

No matter how small we feel when separated from each other, we have a bond that connects like a tether. A cord that can never be cut—an anomaly in the South Atlantic Ocean. Mass and energy shift as we wobble off course. Axis at 23.44. North wobbling looser than the South. Magnetic opposites spinning this all together.

The tales we keep alive with the narrative we believe in—and the ones others believe of us. Each and every one of us in our own battle of resistance. Now as we realign, remembering truly what Earth is and how the universe first formed—

Our narrative reforming. A whole experience from the beginning, middle, to how we decide the end.

Pop!

A cosmically outrageous conception: light entangled with time itself, bending as matter reaches a turning point. Concave, convex—light does its flex.

Looking, looking, looking… in.

What a wild idea this could be—quiet perplexing.

Because if we are light in all its aspects, in all its manifestations, then perhaps we must look inward through an inverted sense.

After a walk around the block, daughter in tow and a pooch at my side, I found myself watching roots braided through soil, twigs stretching from trees in segmented reach. In those in-between spaces, life measures itself—experiencing its own time. Growing through resistance, even resistance from the self. Trees split like twins, inner flesh revealing hidden colors, bark rough to the touch. A hardened exterior—a shield waiting to be softened by play.

Memories resurfaced, illuminated by a recent delight not so long past. I could stay there for a while—or linger longer in the in-between.

Each of us our own lens, many, many lenses. Spread like honeycombs—liquified crystal glass formed in ancient pasts. Places we’ve held interest long enough for an image to form, for memory to shape our internal self.

Mine is flexible; others hardened long ago. Some are born thin, without protection at all. What is internal is an eternal space of memory shaped into form, holding all the organic matter its magnetics can sustain. A gravity of its own—each and every one. A light waiting to shine, waiting for a sun already inside.

Magnifying inward, we become our own telescopes through time.

My experiences are not mine alone. Given enough information—context, points of conflict or peace, patterns of behavior—much can be inferred. Light-years or milliseconds, Earth remains ours to explore. We came from stardust forged in hotter circumstances. Multiple processes—systems that allowed us to come to light here.

Light now catching up to matter that keeps slipping away—forgetting each day.

We forgot that darkness is part of the light—until fire reminded us of who we can be. Oh, how exciting that ignition was. The long wait before we learned to wield it. Warm ourselves around the flames as we explore taste through each season.

Our vulnerability the key to softening the tools we’ve “discovered”2. We are a sensitive species, after all—even those with the toughest bark around an experiencing heart. Ego grew to protect what was once common sense, lost early in the forming. We tried to box the internal world into religions, faces, names that could keep pace with time.

Each era struggles with how to keep its inner world alight, battling itself the entire way. It seems we had to do this as a species—a journey even evolution did not anticipate. We destroyed many beautiful things along the way, claiming what appeared before us as ours for the taking.

Now a line in time is drawn: choose your side, or never see what waits inside.

Time itself travels on light. The lens is built in.

Context after context of self-discovery, pieces scattered across the world like the body of Osiris. Remains left from the minds of those long past. This is not mine alone. It belongs to all of us. How could it be otherwise, when we are so stubbornly curious?

Light to dark. Internal worlds fading, as if light pollution found its way inside our growth process, forcing us to compete for space that was always ours. Each sense. Each curiosity. Each embodied knowing.

What else could make the human experience? To feel our bodies as our own. To trust our words with a mind that has learned. To shape a spirit that arrives through us. To carry the weight of knowing death awaits, before returning to a self-running process—no will given once physics locks in.

So what is the purpose, then—of a world where we witness the entire process through our own experience? To become who we are through interest rather than comparison? There is room enough on Earth for this. A visible cycle, seen in countless ways, allowing each of us to specialize.

All things external arrive here—fragmented, separated—now settled within Earth’s gravity well. The pieces gathered close enough to evolve, diverse enough to offer true dimensional perspective. I’m not sure chance alone brought this together, but I wonder. How long did each surprise take to awaken?

Across Earth, systems arose again and again—one constant present: the environment bending to see whether new inhabitants would fit. How much internal drive they could summon. How much resistance the world offered in return. How each being interacted. Like cosmic reactions, behaviors emerged—an unavoidable side effect of evolving through space and time.

The need for both always rises: dark and light, matter and energy, void and form— space allowing time to unravel, waiting for time itself to matter.

What an energy confusion to be mixed in—

Super Bowl weekend.

Feeding our attention

to a system that gives us illusion.

Realities on the surface frosting over,

not enough heat from the sun

to melt the wall they are building.

Capitalizing on our emotions,

capturing our needs,

redirecting our wants—

on screen or off.

The truth keeps on coming.

Lies told all around,

as the files are opening.

Denial keeps on shifting,

resources go missing.

Surplus uncovered—

this system is a bust.

Children all in the mix.

On screen or off.

Political or sensational.

Entertainment and comfort,

levels all assorted.

Layers now settling.

Colors mixing,

and colors staying.

Feelings always changing.

Offenses keep on coming.

No time ever allowing—

always waiting on the next day, counting.

One thing to the next,

always in some sequence.

Attached to the calendar

in strange occurrences.

Odd recognition,

modern reconfigurations.

Mentalities a-swaying,

bodies crying,

spirits feeding—

energy now depleting.

Crossing from the cosmic

through the Earth within.

Money exchanging

through so many hands.

Subhumans engaging

in unsavory behaviors,

lifting themselves

above all the light.

Stadium alit.

Humans on display,

emotions now a segway—

consciousness lost its way.

All on a forming holiday,

cultural attraction of entry extraction,

now gaining traction.

Planets hiding behind the sun—

Jupiter the only one out,

protecting our inner solar system,

a clearing-out process.

Information coming in,

information going out.

Reaching toward a sun year-round—

stadium seats filled.

Halftime all lined up.

Advertisements, no disruptions.

A performance for the sun above

in the dark of night.

Wake up to watch it on repeat.

Talk about it for weeks.

Energize in the hype.

South Atlantic Anomaly weakening.

The sun unforgiving,

our own spirits siphoning.

In all this internal spiraling.