In the clinic of cold conclusions,
steel speaks, sterile and certain,
microscopes measure mysteries
until wonder wears a white coat.
Yet in the shrine of silent supplication,
knees negotiate with the night,
candles carve courage from darkness,
and breath becomes belief.
Between data and divinity
dances a delicate doubt
numbers naming nature,
while spirit sings the unsayable.
The atom splits with surgical precision,
a prophet of proof and particles,
but thunder still trembles like Sinai,
echoing ancient awe in modern ears.
Satellites circle the skeptical sky,
charting the choreography of stars,
yet shepherds still search the heavens,
reading revelation in radiant constellations.
In glass towers of technology,
time ticks to the tune of theories,
algorithms argue against altar calls,
and circuits compete with psalms.
Still, in villages veiled with memory,
drums declare the divine in dust,
ancestors answer in rustling winds,
and tradition threads truth through time.
In the realm where atoms dance in space,
Science unveils its wondrous grace.
A symphony of particles, small yet grand,
Unraveling mysteries across the land.
In laboratories, minds ignite,
Seeking truths hidden from plain sight.
Through lenses and microscopes, they delve,
Into the secrets that nature does shelve.
From galaxies vast to cells unseen,
Science unveils what once had been.
In equations and formulas, we find,
The language of nature, beautifully designed.
So let us marvel at science's rhyme,
As it reveals the mysteries of space and time.
No estate should be able to turn away health inspectors,
No estate should be able to turn away ambulances,
while bleeding internally,
No estate should need to employ so many muckrakers,
or bush lawyers.
No estate should hold so many water rights,
if they pour cold water over journalists,
who want to investigate,
No estate should hold so many gun licenses,
until shooting oneself in the foot is no longer endemic,
No estate should be given awards for mediocrity,
No estate should have license to print money,
to pay for influence.
No estate should be bereft of microscopes,
or access to an eye specialist.
No estate should hold so many contracts out of state,
to stifle competition,
No estate can survive without bread and butter
or an understanding that no freedom is absolute.
No estate can survive when it no longer sees the need to spellcheck,
and uses words covered in sauces past their use by date,
No society can survive when it has a fourth estate,
that no longer pays heed to the edicts of,
Walter Cronkite or his ilk.
MAGNIFICATION
------------------
Close up, the rare metal
shows me its greyish form:
no dots or dashes here.
A disappointment,
for I heard once a scientist say
that under microscopes
the dots and dashes seem to bleep
a Morse code that would save the world and more.
A dog's job is to foes terrify,
Actors of scary films horrify,
The police a rogue identify,
Insurance firms one indemnify...
Science would laymen's claims verify,
Panels rigged elections nullify,
Microscopes to microbes magnify,
Deodorants to bad air purify.
Witnesses in courts to testify,
A counsel to trial judge mollify,
Big stereos to music amplify;
Flowers one's surroundings beautify...
The Angels Lord God glorify,
Nudists the public mortify!
Heavens cotton
Woven by divine silk
Effortlessly gliding across ocean blue backgrounds,
As if the daring feat of mid-stratosphere aviation is somehow ordinary.
Oh to fly among the alluring rabbit tails of physics,
My heart cannot be swayed
I need to feel their embrace
I need to know what its like to float in merciful winds of grace.
A wondrous cycle of shape-shifting alchemy,
Forcing life’s properties to suddenly change at levels only microscopes lay witness.
Like bricks laid in pattern,
Together they form a world above our own,
Paradise upon layered planes.
No eyes, mouths, or ears to be seen, spoken, or heard
Yet, forever stocked in beauty are these heavenly forms,
Calling my desire to fly
Convincing me, one day, I may walk a top it’s pristine and partnered surface.
(This poem is political satire;
don't read if you think you may
be offended. No truth in any of it,
considered by many to be
tasteless -- Not meant to be taken
factually nor literally -- Sincerely, Joe)
New strain of Virus detected
just a minute ago! Predominately
in Democrat run cities and states:
Seems to be 3 trillion times more
infective. CDC is calling it the,
S.T.U.P.I.D. Variant. University Staffs
hard-hit! Early signs, loss of Sense-
of-Smell, Gullibility, and increased
fetish for Designer Masks. Best
detected by examination of Cancel
Cultures -- microscopes prohibited
per Fauci. The most vulnerable group
seems to be those who have already
had 4 doses and 2 boosters. To treat
Fauci recommends, 4 doses and 2 boosters
for everyone, preferably administered
as young as the womb to developing
fetuses by his personally trained
omnipotent physicians at Unplanning
Parenthood -- Biden and Pelosi
say, God Bless America!
Scientists peer in telescopes
microscopes, periscopes
It's a marvel what they see
I've no need of their equipment
Au Natural's enough for me
Jesus is not in the Sacred Bread
Nothing stays the same ,much as we hope
He drowns with refugees, he crawls in mud
Life and God aren’t static.souls have fled
Do not deny the loss, nor its great scope
Jesus is not in the Sacred Bread
Europe cracked , a billion billion dead
Unacknowledged evil is the rope
He burned with Europe’s Jews ,we lust in bed
The War’s not gone, it lives inside the head
We do not need a thousand microscopes
Jesus is not in the Sacred Bread
The symbol’s done, the bread of heaven ‘s bad
We “Christians” were not there when Jesus spoke
Christ burned with gypsies, queers , was shot unclad
It’s over, people,what we never read.
We ruined the world , destroyed the ones who fled
Jesus is not in the Sacred Bread
He drowned and burned was shot,he’s truly dead
Grounded Love
When the autumn leaves all begin to fall,
As they take a tumble they will recall,
There is the proper position and spread,
Show colors of yellow, orange and red,
So when the passersby stop, take a view,
They'll see their soul as colorful as you.
Snowflakes share the ground along with the leaves,
They do not tumble but they pile and heaves,
All is distinctive from all of the rest,
Try to appear as charmed being the best,
Excelled hopes for a passerby who'd be,
With Microscope, gives soul eternity.
...Aged passerby,
...sky, ground, and knows,
...microscopes, colors, souls.
2019 September 15
*2nd Place*
Any poem you want to write exactly 100 words
~~Caren Krutsinger
Parliament is an umbrella of the people by which
All those who have read books of satire and sarcasm
Regularly shelter and gossip wisely and vigorously
Legal issues as hailstorm threaten to tear hopes.
In formal ways one with Cutting Mouth guides them
And forwards the results of the wise gossip
Mainly for ratification by Chief of Chiefs into acts but
Everyone who has read books of satire has hidden eyes
Necessary to act as microscopes to identify virus
The group of Chief of Chiefs and his cadres may contract
A philosopher once told me that love
cannot be understood in a lab; a human heart
cannot be cut open, so as to remove love for weight
or size measurements, or even knowing its color.
It is at that moment that I decided to make my heart
a living lab; a lab with no microscopes, test-tubes
or white-coats. I wanted to investigate what love
really is, with my own rules.
Heartbreaks, ecstasy, sadness, and thrill became
the elements to use to see how love reacted to them; I had
a chance to do “emotional fusion” with strangers and familiar
people.
After this sanity-damned experiment,
the findings were as insane as a shell floating in an aquarium.
The image of love seemed like mixing sugar and salt
together, to make a cup of tea!
Creator of color, creator of light,
You've given us both to shine day and night.
Your garden of flowers, all species of fish,
in all arrays of hues, what more could we wish?
Exquisite white snowflakes, volcanoes fire red,
Coral sandy beaches, new horizons to tread.
Your delicate mighty insects, we observe with geat awe,
In all shapes and sizes, they fly, creep and crawl.
Shiny fruits and veggies, succulant to the core,
and microscopes reveal stunning microbes galore.
Your artistry is prevalent in every single thing.
We thank you, Jehovah, to you praises we sing.
Bacteria, too small for human eyes
engage their fight for life within our midst,
so unaware of Earth's gigantic spies
with microscopes and slides, who co-exist.
And tiny fish, contained by walls of glass,
oblivious to all that thrives outside,
in worlds of colored sand and plastic grass
know not the ocean's roar or rhythmic tide.
Too, we the wisest creatures of life's sea,
who travel well the wonders of our home,
are blinded by the endless mystery
of space and time- horizons we can't roam.
What great dimension of the vast beyond
makes Earth a microscopic vagabond?
March 14, 2015
Premiere Contest: 2022 Poetry Marathon
Mile 4 Poetry Contest
How did we acquire the knowledge of getting food
following all protocols and procedures
of knowing when the Earth is in a fine mood
to give a handshake of bountiful harvest?
In search of knowledge and understanding
man has explored Nature, down to its hood
and due to his short comings, treated humanity unfairly and rude.
Knowing the mechanics of an existing phenomenon
makes one a happy and creative dude
but having no idea how it even existed
makes his understanding still bare and nude
Under a higher authority, we’re all nursed
be it a gentleman with the fine name-Jude
or matter in a non-stop pause
having no artery of sustenance like the wood
Life and existence, wisdom and health, He’s the source
Him- not even the microscopes can elude
He is existing, everlasting and much more than a force
He is no other than God and He is good.
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