Foucault's Pendulum (2015 APR PAD - Day 17)

Public Domain photo taken by Ben Ostrowsky in Milan, Italy.

Foucault's pendulum

“Nothing

in the universe

is at rest.”

The heart vacillates.

Placid with all it has,

aching for what it lacks,

it bleeds in black and white –

a pendulum passing

between dark and light,

but nowise winding down;

while gray

matter(s) to the mind,

which spins, (seeing

what was, is, may yet be),

circles a whirlwind vortex,

imagining a center eye,

a placid balance

between all three.

PSC/2015

The above poem is written in response to Robert Lee Brewer’s Poetic Asides APRIL PAD (Poem-A-Day) Challenge for Day 17 (a swing poem):  2015-april-pad-challenge-day-17

Below are some additional links for Robert’s PAD Challenge:

2015-april-pad-challenge-guidelines

2015-april-pad-challenge-tips

COME PLAY WITH US!

 

Bilked (2015 APR PAD - Day 14)

photo by PSC / 2015

Bilked

I watch them build.

She works so hard

as he keeps watch

for predators.

So much planning

and preparation

in building a nest,

to house eggs

I know will never hatch.

A priori plans exist

to bilk them

of their progeny –

the supreme swindle.

I mourn their losses

before the babes

are even conceived.

Best they never 

know of this 

consummate

betrayal.

PSC/2015

The above poem is written in response to Robert Lee Brewer’s Poetic Asides APRIL PAD (Poem-A-Day) Challenge for Day 14 (an honest and/or dishonest poem):  2015-april-pad-challenge-day-14

 

Seasonal Affairs (2015 APR PAD - Day 11)

  “We change just as the seasons change, and each spring brings new growth. So nothing is ever quite the same.” ― Sherwood Smith, Crown Duel

“I know I am but summer to your heart, and not the full four seasons of the year.”  
― Edna St. Vincent Millay

Seasonal Affairs

She

adores them all

even as they abandon her;

could never choose just one.

Spring brings dew-drop jewels

and ephemeral blooms - all

too quickly burned away

by Summer’s fleeting (flash-)fire-

flies. Autumn gifts her with glorious hues

before the jilting that leaves her brittle, dry,

colorless, cold. Winter bequeaths her a

blanket of white, as she waits at the window,

peering through her frosted pane

for a simple glimpse of gray juncos

feeding in the snow, and

(here’s the thing:)

anticipating, still,

another

spring.

PSC/2015

The above poem is written in response to Robert Lee Brewer’s Poetic Asides APRIL PAD (Poem-A-Day) Challenge for Day 11 (a seasonal poem):  2015-april-pad-challenge-day-11

 

COME PLAY WITH US!