"To be voted on by the class"
=
"Write an after-life poem"


An Indian, After life

Swiftly skipping along, with a summer
sun sinking into the sea, I’m warmer
than one might expect given the mountain
heights I tread. In my mind resides words
I repeat and seek meaning to, but that
runner breaths this thin Incan air deeper.

I don’t need understanding tho to know
my sole mission: deliver this message.
I’m aware of each stride as it rises
and falls on the trail that might as well be
the life-line stretching across my worked hand.

As I reach a most treacherous portion,
half side stepping along a smooth slate ledge
that hugs the rough cliff’s curvature and drops
right into the Inti illumed ocean,
I note last week’s extra heavy rain storm,
and the sketchy boulder field overhead.

Now I’m the ledge’s edge, and the salty spray
echoing off my pebbleine wedge friends.
As I round my favorite corner, I see
the trails inland progress clear, and the dark
jungle where my winged feet can really fly…

…my toe impacts the stone when the slate breaks,
and i fall forever, lost in the sky…



Swiftly skipping along, with a summer
sun near rested at sea, i feel calmer
than one might expect, given the mountain
heights i tread. In my mind resides words
i repeat and seek meaning to, ‘cause that
runner breaths this thin Incan air deeper.

And i don’t need understanding to know
my sole mission: deliver this message.
i’m aware of each stride as it rises
and falls on the trail that might as well be
the life-line across our growing state’s hand.

As i reach a most beautiful portion,
i stop stepping and sip from a small stream
about to meet that rough cliff’s edge and slip
right into the Inti illumed ocean.
i note how refreshingly sweet it is;
and see it’s source: the boulders overhead.

Now i’m a wave’s edge as the rapid’s break
rocks&rolls me and my pebbleine friends.
As we round my favorite corner, EyE See!
oH! the trail, my progress dear, and the dark
jungle where my winged feet need now fly…

…as i leap to go, a shadow breaks free
and i fall, consumed by bliss and soft light…



Swiftly skipping along, with a summer
moon waxed and shining, i feel heavier,
as one might expect, given the mountain
heights i tread. Within mind resides words
i repeat and seek meaning through; by that
running, breathing this thin air deeper.

Each will find understanding, this i know;
and my mission: deliver this message.
i’m aware of each stride as it rises
and falls on the trail that might as well be
a life-line extended to every hand.

As EyE touch a generous portion, we
half slip into each other as we peer
and hug, with soft light, the Earth’s curvature;
right into the Inti illumed ocean.
i note the ease of it all with her here,
even when our shared here is but our Love.

i’m now the distant clearing that surrounds
the town my friends&i call home sweet home;
And we ring it with my favorite color,
embracing all, their trails and their progress;
and the jungle where our winged feet now fly…

…as i reach my destination, joy breaks;
and in her eyes i near forget those words…

three*2s+-1or2too

Myer's Hall: India-
na's molecular by-
       oloG institute.

lots&lots of smart folks
 go in and out of doors
in and out; hallways and

sidewalks with wise old words
      carved in stone overhead.
Such a big building to{o}

study such small things as
    molecules. at night it's
strange, the lights don't seem to

go off, and that seems right,
'cause there's always some gra-
                 duate student or such

burning the midnight oil,
even if it's quarter night,
or XtimesPi^2(night).

and sure, progress is quite
novel, and novelty
is novel; like trying

to convert ergs per flux
 to (micro)mols of light.
        even if it comes to

    doin' it in the dark;
tracing faded footprints
in the snow, out of love.

But let's not forget 'bout
those that inspire us
to try and see the unseen;

   to retrofit the lights
from our eyes to the sun's.
that is, change retinal

electrical signals
into a count of sun bits,
photons collected per

square meter seconds.
CRIKES! time really does fly,
   and instead of trying

to figure out how fruit
flies like a banana,
i'm gonna say duce, duce;

that is, peace my homies,
it's time to head on home.

Constant action overcomes cold;
Being still overcomes heat.
                           ---Lao Tzu


Nothing in this life brings more summer rain
than Lotus Dancing with Sara & Mae;
and when we share our peace, there's no finer play.
We surf speaker born soundwaves and sing with
songs that join our hearts and make our Souls a gift.
As the beat builds around us petals ignight,
changing the rain's coarse 'round, turned steam by light,
and the flames burn brighter all through the night;
until our pores pour fourth and we need rest.
Sara&I sit, but Mae keeps it going,
it seems for her continued life is best,
and every last drop of energy's showing.
We watch our young one swim to stay afloat
'til she sinks into sleep on her Nelumbo boat.

For the Spring that's Sprung

The force of each and any given spring
equals the inner strength its tension brings
   times winter time dilation
   or compression. Seeds and young buds
wait, growing in quiet moderation
for a warm wave signal generation;
   a sign to bring out the fresh duds.
   The Earth wobbles about in space,
-a true example of sky dancing grace-
cosmic warmth moves 'round in the blowing wind,
   a turtle's walk turns rabbit's pace,
   and shells start popping, colors blend.
The atmosphere fills with such a sweet scent;
and it's known that by heaven, this is meant.

Welly, Welly, Welly, Welly, Well

   To what do i owe this tension
in my spine? oH, that's water weight and
gravity working 'gainst my pulling hand;
   but i'm bound here to this mission.
   The world now knows for what it thirsts,
and i've dug a well, not the first
or last or only, but one just the same;
   and i'll lift, even if it maims.
   Because i feel the world's sorrow.
It's made me violent, but i'm more tame;
and i pray i'll be some more tomorrow.
   But without rain no well is filled.
Somehow eye can call forth the rain if willed,
but the tension stays with me even still.

Rainbow Road's Spiral Acent

Racing around an oval can be fun,
 and it can condense the mind's focus
  through dynamic repition.
  There's certain laws though worth mention
-tested thoughts shown to not be bogus-
and they treat cars like stars and blood cells spun:
centrifugation fights friction's forces.
 But Rainbow Road's spiral ascent banks,
  allowing a much faster course;
  and for that this toadstool gives thanks.
 We could sine theta and cosine it,
the angled aftermath would be a hit,
  but that's a tangent, and i'm tired;
  now i need the one that inspires.