Simultaneity and A Light Cone
Simultaneity and A Light Cone
I never know what will happen when I start my Sunday with David Amerland's Sunday Read. https://goo.gl/R2lLo2
Just when I was starting down the many rabbit holes a handsome stranger (yes, they exist) pointed out that my right rear tire was dangerously low. Fixed. Then my beloved surfaced from somewhere near Syria because he couldn't access The Treasure https://goo.gl/YfUJ76. Brief conversation about VPNs and connectivity and knowledge in the world.
A Cooper's hawk eyed me from 10 feet away before swooping off.
Somewhere in the midst, thinking of the philosophy of physics, I remembered a poem written long ago. Deep dive into file drawer. Found the typewritten version on yellow copy paper.
Simultaneity and A Light Cone
When I was not yet twenty
The bomb’s father was, yes, paternal:
Introduced me to
The voice with ingenuous eyes
Speaking from the page
Of time moving in a light cone.
I thought then that love was pain,
Did not discriminate the hawk from the eagle,
And spoke little of magnanimity.
Strategic Air Command rumbled the sky
“Airborne Alert” and friends felt safe.
A soldier died live on evening news.
I invited the press to meet endangered species.
The garter snake couldn’t come
Permanently detained by winter bulldozers;
Two mountain lions padded circles on the hardwood floor.
Native Americans turned their backs on the clanking chains.
Before sunset I watched
The paired white-tailed kites
Hunt in glorious hovering
Until new homes were built on speculation.
Suitors and lovers panted in the afternoon
Promised everything but Spenserian magnificence,
Couldn’t understand why I’d rather watch the mountain
For sight of an eagle,
And said I didn’t know love.
Watch the tops of redwoods
From which the kestrel rushes on a small brown bird,
Eyes me,
And flies underneath the branches to devour in private.
The robins down from august Sierras
Lift as one from the grass to the upper branches
Seeming there were more to fear.
Nights we kiss
Our arms around each other
As if we could stop this theory
In a corollary of feeling.
You startle in your sleep
Cry, “What was that?”
As if we would know when it happened.
I wonder if I could hear neutrons
Much less truly conceive of an atom or time rushing.
We hold each other warm
In a moment.
https://goo.gl/YfUJ76
I never know what will happen when I start my Sunday with David Amerland's Sunday Read. https://goo.gl/R2lLo2
Just when I was starting down the many rabbit holes a handsome stranger (yes, they exist) pointed out that my right rear tire was dangerously low. Fixed. Then my beloved surfaced from somewhere near Syria because he couldn't access The Treasure https://goo.gl/YfUJ76. Brief conversation about VPNs and connectivity and knowledge in the world.
A Cooper's hawk eyed me from 10 feet away before swooping off.
Somewhere in the midst, thinking of the philosophy of physics, I remembered a poem written long ago. Deep dive into file drawer. Found the typewritten version on yellow copy paper.
Simultaneity and A Light Cone
When I was not yet twenty
The bomb’s father was, yes, paternal:
Introduced me to
The voice with ingenuous eyes
Speaking from the page
Of time moving in a light cone.
I thought then that love was pain,
Did not discriminate the hawk from the eagle,
And spoke little of magnanimity.
Strategic Air Command rumbled the sky
“Airborne Alert” and friends felt safe.
A soldier died live on evening news.
I invited the press to meet endangered species.
The garter snake couldn’t come
Permanently detained by winter bulldozers;
Two mountain lions padded circles on the hardwood floor.
Native Americans turned their backs on the clanking chains.
Before sunset I watched
The paired white-tailed kites
Hunt in glorious hovering
Until new homes were built on speculation.
Suitors and lovers panted in the afternoon
Promised everything but Spenserian magnificence,
Couldn’t understand why I’d rather watch the mountain
For sight of an eagle,
And said I didn’t know love.
Watch the tops of redwoods
From which the kestrel rushes on a small brown bird,
Eyes me,
And flies underneath the branches to devour in private.
The robins down from august Sierras
Lift as one from the grass to the upper branches
Seeming there were more to fear.
Nights we kiss
Our arms around each other
As if we could stop this theory
In a corollary of feeling.
You startle in your sleep
Cry, “What was that?”
As if we would know when it happened.
I wonder if I could hear neutrons
Much less truly conceive of an atom or time rushing.
We hold each other warm
In a moment.
https://goo.gl/YfUJ76
Zara Altair :) what an episodic Sunday you are having :)
ReplyDeleteDavid Amerland I know. I still haven't finished the rabbit holes. :)
ReplyDeleteyour th on Language Model on One Billion Word Benchmark github.com - models
ReplyDeleteBeautiful poem, Zara Altair. Who's is that?
ReplyDeleteGideon Rosenblatt I wrote it a long time in the past. Why retreival involved typewritten pages.:)
ReplyDeleteZara Altair
ReplyDeleteHi Lady!! And yes, a beautiful poem and Imagery Do you have a strong Native background?
Few people, unless they are Falconers or live in states such as Colorado or areas of abundant wildlife know their raptors as well as you
Coach G Moore you should be here today with the Bronco-mania!!! It is a-buzz in the streets, at Sprouts and TJoes' markets. Bronco-mania is alive this fall
ReplyDeleteNow to go read David Amerland piece for the day ;D Cheers
Wow, I'm impressed, Zara Altair. I had no idea you had these additional talents. Very nice.
ReplyDeleteGideon Rosenblatt Hahaha! That's what school administrators thought when I negotiated contracts and showed them line item by line item how they could afford a Poets-in-the-Schools program. "When do we meet a real poet?"
ReplyDeleteMicheleElys Mer WASP all the way. I do notice things. And at one time I trained raptors to be released into the wild. It runs in the family. One of my daughter's first words was hawk. It doesn't take much to notice what is around you. :)
ReplyDelete