This is part of a collection of poems accompanied by an AI generated illustration as a response to those poems. In the collection, “A Super Collider of Zigs and Zags” by Brendon Behlke, each poem was submitted as a prompt to an AI art generator and produced the artwork on display. To view them the way ancient peoples would have viewed them, you can order a copy of the entire collection, over 100 poems and art pieces, releasing on November 18th 2023 here: https://www.fontainehousepublishing.com/product-page/a-super-collider-of-zigs-and-zags-by-brendon-behlke
Tag Archives: space
Betelgeuse
What thread could be suspended
between these two points of light;
the seams of these worlds brought together
by a string of moments ad nauseam.
Mountains rise like waves;
crash into the earth-
peaks, valleys, ranges.
Life explodes in jubilation,
dancing in the rain;
collapses beneath its own weight,
pulls itself back up again.
A cloud of chaos still warm from the womb,
desperate for purchase,
finding order, each other, everything…
and then,
nothing
except these stitches in the darkness,
that imperceptible sparks of cognition
will embrace as fire
firmament
stars
longing
future
and sorrow.
Never wrong or right,
merely eager to learn the light…
to quilt together existence from distance
and rest in relief as long as time permits.
Nuance
Most of this is empty space;
the parts we recognize are our own.
Drawing lines to define the void,
make it digestible,
before it gets away from us.
All of it is exploding.
Omnidirectional fire
in a panicked escape
from itself or any purpose in its future;
circumventing speed for scale
while we just try and catch up.
What can we possibly expect?
Swimming around in noble gasses,
breathing fire and using the ash
to write equations or trace shadows.
When the mouth of the cave has closed,
all that we know will be darkness;
but most of this is empty space,
so perhaps there is still some truth in that.
Nova
Those eyes so oft transfixed
by only things they lorded over
would but on occasion dane
to dine on the extravagance above;
a passing glance at the moon,
a brief aside with the procession of stars,
the fascinating contemplations of ephemeral comets,
or the longing gaze into the darkness of an eclipse.
Long ago we could not afford this appreciation.
The stars were savage campfires,
the moon a wrathful god.
Comets would herald the end of man,
and an eclipse would end all else.
We could do no more than look away and feel safe
or look on in horror of what future we baited.
Stronger minds however were not sated,
and shackled those monsters to reality,
tearing them from the bosom of imagination,
so the world above could be a safer space to ruminate;
as long as we could make sense of the light and dark,
and still find comfort in the ground.
It was good,
until the darkness was swept away,
and all that is was light, be it day or night.
The sky, no more a blanket
but a bright bag zipped up tight
while we fought against it,
none of us ready to die.
Puzzle Pieces
We look for solutions amongst lights in the sky
that can only be found in broken pieces
fragments of the whole
illustrative only of what is missing
finite space finite only in our limitations
so eager to find themselves fit amongst the stars
to burn
then burn out
fade
to darkness
but always,
stars.
too far away to grasp
but close enough for envy.
Juno
I felt love
the twisted turmoil of Jovian clouds
though closer than ever before
still far enough away to look like
cream colored dresses on a coffee stage
young dancers in promenade
a layered cake performance
rehearsed a million times before its premiere
I felt love
now that we were so near
that the universe had become more tangible
our vision more defined
our futures free to explore new borders.
I felt love
knowing all that came before
all those bright minds focused on a single goal
all the world in collaboration
living an alien life beyond the one we know.
Eyes
Where the universe ends
a galaxy falls like water
plunging into darkness
The stellar fabric vitalized
by caramel colors
reaching into the bold expanse
Stars, bound forever to the churning
sail beyond that violent precipice
to find purpose in their destination
As the edge approaches
they ponder being lost
tumbling forever in the void
the eerie comfort of that ending
while I, dream of joining them.
Samsara
What ends will begin again
the distant observer reminds me
hidden in shadow
their eyes reaching out with their own light
metal things – sharp like ice
seeing me fully;
where presence, thought, and action
coincide
all the moments in between.
A brutal transparency
that turns the veins to stonework.
We lock eyes over long,
each of us
throttled by the others gaze
only one of us
haunted by it,
until the day ends and a new one begins.
In the morning
I will wake
to see myself staring once again
eager,
but patient to take my place
to see through these eyes
rather than the emotionless space.
Reduced
Consciousness and form pulled from all directions
screaming out against the cosmos in a vacuum
silent
there is no place for us amongst the stars
they burn for dreams that end in death
rebirth
not fire or embers or kindling
we are invisible heat lifted to the night
rising
when the wind catches us in its tantrums
it carries us away until we are nothing
dissolved
We are places all around – moving
until cooled – and naught but the movement remains
sifting
Sleep Now the Orphans
Like laundry hung out on a line
dried out, rained upon and dried again
abandoned long ago
an empty house to look upon
only a strong gust away.
Weak tears tiptoe through the thick dark
a secret well-kept in the day
is given freely in the night
where dreams lie like graves
with grotesque things beneath loose dirt
only a strong gust away.
In this place love is built of bitter things
bonds that will live here until they die here
too fragile to exist beyond these walls
the world we’ve made revels in the broken
only a strong gust away.
If you’ve nothing left to cry for
you can look out at the stars
clawing through the darkness
with admiration
only a strong gust away.
Grow Gray With Me 