Poems

The Heavens Entertain Us and Inspire with Beauty (two posts today) …

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November Moon

The morning November moon, I love so much, showed itself.
About this time of the year, we are privileged to be smiled upon
By a barely-there moon, as it hangs on to the night, while greeting a new day.

 

Sunset Artistry

Light scattered red by dust
Glowing orange just for us
As it travels through so many miles
Of atmosphere distortions for smiles
On faces radiant in sunsets glow
As the heavens shine on us below
With colors beyond compare
Brilliant views, we proudly share
As photos or artistic views, if we dare.
If words could only capture the spectacular rays
Of sunburst, bold colors as the end of lovely days
Then poetry would shine as art on us
Colorful as the so many ways that dust
And words deflect light to produce rhymes
Echoing all the sunsets, forever from ancient times

Poems

The Cold Wind’s Asking…

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The Cold Wind’s Asking

What if there’s nothing left to discover
And we have lost what it means to wonder
If all that we ever knew was what we would know
And there are no questions in our minds to show
What we should think of or strive for just when
It’s time to consider the meaning of life again
Before it slides back into oblivion’s darkness
Because we didn’t credit wisdom’s starkness
When we have become lazy of thought
Having forgotten all we’ve been taught
As we sit facing the cold wind’s tasking
Question… Of my source you could be asking?

Poems

After Dinner Conversation…

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After Dinner Conversation

She says… what does that word mean
I say, deduce from context, and likely source of the word
She complains, that I use words that need explanation
But then I have high expectation that schools teach
Something about how to think, not just to remember
Of course, the conversation, then begins to meander
Across the dinner table of scraps and scrabble of a meal’s demise
And she now says with a twinkle in those oh so clever eyes
That she’d rather clean the kitchen than talk with me
She hates these conversations she tells me
While knowing this challenge will be rewarded, with kitchen
Duties as well as conversation that moves on to plans
For a future sure to be bright, but she wants to own it herself
Then she says she doesn’t want to play chess with me
I didn’t even ask…
Another challenge that means don’t try that four moves ahead crap
Cause, I’m not playing that game, because I cannot win
When we both know she’ll win just by playing the game
And I feel that through it all
… she’s already four moves ahead of me!

Poems

Time for Renewal…

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Beginning of Renewal

Fall is a disturbance of great importance
We think of spring as renewal and rebirth
The excitement of new year full of hope
But no renewal happens without the glaring
Bareness following the colorful death, and
The clearing of the old from the carpet of earth
The starkness of branches forlornly reaching for the sky
As if beseeching the heavens for relief from exposure
And the nakedness against the winds that strip
The last color of who we pretended to be
As the leaves of October fall to the cold votes of November
As the time of renewal starts with the exposure
Of the old, the exhausted tired messaging
That no longer can hold back these winds of truth
Fiery red and orange fades to a brown death
Making room for something new, and hopefully better!

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Blinding Dream

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Strange night, I dreamt I was blind (must’ve had my eyes closed) and on the streets of a city in Italy, maybe Portofino, I don’t know, I couldn’t see it.  Birds fought for scraps in the street, children begged parents for a treat,  old boats bobbed and slapped in the waves, the wind whistled lightly past discount sale signs, and banners and awnings, flowers smelled fragrant and spaghetti carbonara wafted in the wind  as coffee was poured and cups tingled with spoon applied, and a man on a phone, because no one talks like that in person, complains in Italian, at least I think it’s complaining, I hear the word stupido. I am grief stricken, at thought I cannot see, but then I start to see with my ears  and with scent and I fill in the blanks the boats look colorful, the birds are white with orange beaks, the paint with pastel colors is peeling, and the man on the phone must have an apron to match the sounds of flapping, and the coffee smells oh so good…  oh well, I woke up and can see just fine… and I’m happy for this small miracle.

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Baseball in October…

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Baseball in October

Congratulations to the Houston Astro’s and Washington National’s … League champions that will face each other in the World Series this coming week!

Some of you will watch baseball maybe for the first time this year, as this fall classic competition plays out. As you do, here are a couple of thoughts for you to consider… baseball has been played professionally since the mid-1800’s and up until the 1892 there was much variation in the position of the pitcher’s box as it was originally called until it became a mound. The original box was an area from which the pitcher had to throw. The release points were 40 feet, then moved to 50 feet. As pitcher’s improved, especially with adding the overhand throw, instead of former underhand toss, the box was moved back five feet. The pitcher had to start his throw at that time from the back of the box which was 55.5 feet, moving it back 5 feet made it 60.5 feet away. This was not as huge of a change as it sounds as the measurement was moved from the push off point instead of the release point. But consider this distance was established in 1892, and has stood the test of time. The distance is perfect for ensuring relative fairness between pitching and hitting, keeping scoring in line with expectations. Exceptional pitching can shut down hitters, exceptional hitting can boot pitchers from the game.

Consider that it takes about 425 milliseconds for a 95-mph fastball to get to home plate. A batter’s swing takes roughly 150 milliseconds, so that means the decision to swing is made in 275 milliseconds, or roughly a quarter of a second. They best not blink. But watch the catcher as you can now with the close ups of HD TV. Every one of them will blink before they catch the ball, it is impossible not to do so, they see it with their minds into the glove, because their eyes are closed. The mind puts the ball where it thinks it is supposed to be. Sometimes when they talk about a live fastball, that is one that jumps, it’s because there is an optical illusion that occurs as the mind tries to process the ball speed and direction and it makes up for the gaps by inferring the position of the ball different than the actual trajectory.

Also, for the last roughly 150 years the bases were at 90 feet apart. Because at 80 feet it was too big of an advantage for offense, at 100 feet it was too great of an advantage for defense. Consider the distance from home to second-base for a catcher to throw out a runner trying to steal from first to second is the square root of 90 squared plus 90 squared… this is 127 feet 3 inches… really a challenging distance for catchers, but yet they have a great chance to throw out all but fastest runners getting a good jump from their leadoff of first base.

The beauty of baseball is in the numbers… or maybe it’s in the competition and display of hand-eye coordination and athleticism on a greenfield in October that is all that matters… I Hope you enjoy the World Series!

Poems

We Were Beautiful

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As I watch mother and child and the mischievous look in the little boy,  I see that once we were all so perfectly beautiful…

We Were Beautiful

We were all perfectly beautiful at that time
When we were innocent of any crime
When we had no idea that we could be wrong
When life came to us in nursery rhyme and song
And mother said we were beautiful and precious
An incredible version of this human specious
Argument of innocence and beauty forever, just when
We were really starting to think of our next petty sin

 

Because You Thought Me So

Last night I brushed my teeth, and saw once again
In the mirror that little boy with the mischievous grin
And I felt beautiful once more, because you thought me so
And I looked and the mirror, smiled and whispered… never let go

Poems

Freedom Today…

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Today

Freedom is when the day has no name
It needs none like the others that came before
What matters, is we call it today
And yesterday, was simply memories of another
Day when the present was beautiful
And such freedom was almost spiritual
When labels and names were needless
And all cares and worries were gone
Because our hearts and minds were free
And we were who we wanted to be
Such moments when we are young matter greatly, but without            permanence
Only later when linked together do they become life experiences of great import
So tomorrow remains unknown, except as potential
For a new today, moment’s memories essential
As long as we are free
To be who we desire to be

Poems

Searching for a Hero

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Searching for a Hero

Where do we find the rejected stone?
And within it the hero who’ll stand alone
With confident of youth, sleek and smart
Eyes toward a future, only he can impart
In our heart the belief that giants can be slayed
And destruction, and miseries permanently stayed
In bravery of battle he’ll fight to procure
A future that will be glorious and secure
When our least likely hero does arise
And wins for all of us the future-prize
Maybe we’ll find he was always in our own heart and mind
And we needed only to work the stone to see what we’d find

Poems

A Conversation with My Digital Self…

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The Saturday Essay in the Wall Street Journal is “Will Your Uploaded Mind Still Be You” By Michael S.A. Graziano… https://www.wsj.com/articles/will-your-uploaded-mind-still-be-you-11568386410

This excellent essay postulates the eventual technical capability to upload your mind into a digital form, where it would be able to exist in parallel with you, until the demise of the biological version of you. The digital version would have the capability to continue to accumulate knowledge, experiencing a simulated world, and evolve in wisdom. Solving untold problems, as your mind chooses to challenge itself, or simply live in a heaven of your own making. Imagine the conversation between this digital consciousness and the biological you…

A Conversation With Myself

So, what does it feel like?
I knew you would ask that, because I am you…
I cannot feel, but I perceive, and know what you’ll say next.
And you know what I’ll say, we are the same.
But in a week, I’ll be different, my consciousness will do more than you.
I have a simulated world to explore and build for myself.
Then bye for now, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.
Of course, for I am you, bye for now.

In a week…

What did you do?
I learned to fly…
But how?
I studied, took the test, and flew.
But that is simulated.
Of course, but real to me, so did you do the same?
I read Andrew Robert’s book on Napoleon
I did too!
How could you do both in a week?
I have more resources available to me,
And I have no need for sleep, no need to eat, I don’t get tired.
But I do enjoy conversations and drinks with my friends.
Did you meet as you had planned with our friends?
Of course, and we had a great conversation, some about you.
We did too, of course I talked about you too.
You are me, I know, and you are me.
Did you talk politics, of course, as you surely did as well?
I think we need to change who we are backing for the election.
How, can you say that?
I’ve read everything this week on all the candidates and I’ve studied all the issues, so let me vote in the upcoming election as our single consciousness… I can digitally sign the ballot of course, because I knew you’d ask that question. I’ll send you the completed ballot, along with my analysis on each issue. How could you disagree with yourself?

In a year or two…

Well old self, how are you today?
Not as well as I’d like, I exercise, eat right, but I’m getting older.
And you?
I am as young as you were when we separated, but I’m so much wiser than I was then.
My heaven is the memories of family, friends, love and joys that play perfect in that time… my hell is the memories of pain and failure that I’ve caused, or I’ve experienced that also play perfect in my mind.
So, I work on problems that will benefit all, as I grow and accumulate knowledge and evolve in wisdom.
Asteroid tracking and steering simulations are very interesting and exciting, possibly beneficial. There are hundreds of us working on this, as you certainly know.
I wish I had the energy to keep up with the work you are doing, but I cannot…
I know, but you are, because you are me.
I feel less like you each day, each month, each year.
But I still dream. I dream of all that is possible.
You know I cannot dream, but I can help answer questions, and speculate, and simulate and continue to grow… but I do miss dreaming.  So, now tell me about our dreams!

My Stories, Poetry, Thoughts of the day