ShopDreamUp AI ArtDreamUp
literature
Quantum
Deviation Actions
Literature Text
The ghostly sightings of bats, elusive
in the passages of wormholes,
and the portal of trees
lit by the lunar rings
in a constant curling of echoes
and the rare exchange-
seagulls drifting inland like megaspores
from the hyperbaric void
that cosmic storms leave behind,
gravitate where I kite and sing
as you seek shelter-
territorial in the telephone lines,
nuclear isomers foraging
between parked cars, while drawn
to this molecular lyric by chance
in the outback
where time stands still from the
pull of our Precambrian dance.
Mid-air, our thrall becomes a menace
to the silence of a sibling planet.
These ironic feathers fluting
from our cage of arboretums;
they have no quantum, no beginning;
notes found swirling in atomic maps
of interstellar anatomies
like ineffectual miracles.
Our winged egression into the skies
herald the chorus of our crossing
through a multiverse of vastitudes
to settle into a grume of loess,
a sandstone listening to our conversation-
scattered soliloquies of light
skeletonized in afternoons
of intermittent duets
where leaves, long dead,
are still devoted
to forgotten roots.
in the passages of wormholes,
and the portal of trees
lit by the lunar rings
in a constant curling of echoes
and the rare exchange-
seagulls drifting inland like megaspores
from the hyperbaric void
that cosmic storms leave behind,
gravitate where I kite and sing
as you seek shelter-
territorial in the telephone lines,
nuclear isomers foraging
between parked cars, while drawn
to this molecular lyric by chance
in the outback
where time stands still from the
pull of our Precambrian dance.
Mid-air, our thrall becomes a menace
to the silence of a sibling planet.
These ironic feathers fluting
from our cage of arboretums;
they have no quantum, no beginning;
notes found swirling in atomic maps
of interstellar anatomies
like ineffectual miracles.
Our winged egression into the skies
herald the chorus of our crossing
through a multiverse of vastitudes
to settle into a grume of loess,
a sandstone listening to our conversation-
scattered soliloquies of light
skeletonized in afternoons
of intermittent duets
where leaves, long dead,
are still devoted
to forgotten roots.
Suggested Collections
Featured in Groups
© 2010 - 2024 spoems
Comments17
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In
Holy shit.
This is a wonderful example of what I liken to 'science poetry'. I especially love
where time stands still from the
pull of our Precambrian dance.
Bravo. Epic job.
This is a wonderful example of what I liken to 'science poetry'. I especially love
where time stands still from the
pull of our Precambrian dance.
Bravo. Epic job.