Perfection of 'Droid

English my handmaiden, always very close at hand,
I write from her cuff, always ready with bated breath, knowing,
knowing next words make or break her heart, listening ever so close.

'Droids die, but do they dream of electric sheep? - I think not.
They await my finger's trace across screen with alpha taps.
They dream not, but wait, second upon second, for galvanics'...

galvanics' static trance of electrons making exchange with the world,
the world literally at hand, even at fingertip(s), also bated, but empty.
"Empthy" they are, as I remember my dad playing chicken with the gauge.

English my handmaiden, from day near one, guineas cackling uphill nearby when
the eldest, my sister the Wiccan, tossed my infancy into the creek to dog paddle back,
but I tread water, delighted, cool in the heat of my new beginning also

also at her hand who cut the cord from around my neck before first breath,
before first breath long before touch of 'droid, and exhale, calm, watching...,
even then, not looking or longing for shoreline, comfortable in my element,

'droid and water, tools at either hand, English my real handmaid to be sure,
...not the eldress.

--RK, 8:51pm, 12/30/2013

Poker Face

     Inspired by Lady Gaga, 'nuff said

Long practiced, they see nothing of me, unknowing.

As hard as I've tried, it's not my poker face.

So, awonder, I don't understand from here.

Nothing I can do, I've tried it all, every tack.

Still, I'm invisible, indivisible, indistinguishable,

undistinguished from their dark corners,

bright places they've never seen of life within,

the only place of life's light, unseen of them.

Their poker faces harder than carborundum,

'promise' of graphene hard aheel, tracing,

tracing cut lines across my countenance unseen,

never to be seen, though I've tried all my life

watching multitudes stumble around in steel of dark.

--RK, 10:37pm, 12/11/2013

Respite

Sometimes I pick a horse. They all know me well.

It's okay, he knows we won't ride wild, but elated.

It's okay, we know where we're going, don't worry.

Let the tears flow, it's okay. It's just that way.

My horses know me well, they don't mind

when I want to take a side trail of rejoicing,

deep sadness or great joy along the way.

We know the way well, trodden often.

At trail's head, I sit by the tree, tears rolling.

Deep joy and high sadness reign in time,

while I sigh and slowly pant, respite needed,

needed badly in this world of nothing...

...nothing but inanity, insanity, propaganda,

truth left completely alone, waiting sedately,

ready for the last trump, when all becomes clear

on that last day when all is done when they,

when they thought it would go on forever...

--RK, 7:59pm, 12/8/2013

Dues

     (…call it what you will…)
        “Inspired” by ‘philindigo’ and _ _ _ _ .

I’ve paid mine, much younger than you,
older now with all time’s crawl between.
You want dues paid into your bucket full of holes,
walking the street in guile, ‘begging’ alms, when no one’s home

except you, homeless within and no excuses.
---------------------------------------------------------------
Where’d you go wrong? - Rebellion, hate, envy,
usual for one such as you, lost, terrible agony close.
You even dug ditches, deep, sixing any help’s crossing.

It’s been a long time since your last ditch dug deep,
and oblivion hangs close now, watching, waiting, hungry…
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You don’t know dues’ deep degradation and, in angst,
you hold alms in tight, pocketed fists…, for advantage.

Or so you thought, utterly lost…

--RK, 9:30pm, 11/20/2013
     …written next to the din of his noise of nothing…
        [Slight edit: 6/24/2015]

Inside...

     Inspired by Lacuna Coil's To Myself I Turned,
          & A Moment in Time - ST-NG

…I've mastered space & time.
It means so much 'there,' beside myself.
So much treasure, I've found this golden place.
Wish you could be here, close…, touching.

But it can't be, each finds their own,
if they look at all between, between seconds,
those fleeting things allowed to pass unheeded,
rushing unhindered, breath after breath, when…

…when this day could last a thousand years,
a millennium before sundown & new beginnings,
fresh ones yet unseen from within,
within, your 'hardest' goal to reach.

It's right inside, never so far..., near.
One breath can make it stay, motionless,
almost, an hummingbird winging still, very slowly,
drinking at the face of the waterfall's slow languid play.

--RK, 11:20pm, 11/13/2013

Clear again

     Inspired by Lacuna Coil's (Your) Heaven's a Lie

Trauma, recoil, understanding, response and release,
release to move on, clear again, one more time.
A pattern recognized of old, nothing new,
not under this star on this planet,

this dark planet in the dank backwoods
of a galaxy where some want to paddle faster when…
…when they hear a banjo playing on the river.
---------------------------------------------------
The river, a place of utter solace there, not here.

Clear again to remember my release there,
release to continue my work helping seekers,
the few seekers I've found here, hungry for truth,
nothing but truth they've never heard before,

again and again, here on this backwater planet,
in the backwoods of an incredible galaxy.
---------------------------------------------------
And, as Lacuna Coil plays in the background,
with you fading into dim of dark, I drive even deeper…

…for ever deeper truth unto final clarity of madness unplumbed...

--RK, 10:08pm, 11/11/2013

Astronomy Updates:

Check http://www.skyandtelescope.com/ for updates on Comet ISON and all other astronomy news and research.

The pen

     Inspired by the movie Sucker Punch

          ...thanks to Zack Snyder...

My fight's almost over,

my pen the weapon,

practiced one stroke at a time,

laying bare the path before me,

prepared by Michael's forces.
------------------------------------------

Follow me, follow me, as I (a)wait,

(never more ready), for madness,

spoken of old, never lost of souls,

those who sought its release,

from before of old, days uncounted,

uncounted along this treacherous path,

this trek within for nothing less,

for nothing less of absolute truth.

------------------------------------------

So I live or die by it, this pen,

this pen in hand reaching out,

reaching for their hearts grasping,

in desperation, for nothing less.

--RK, 7:07pm, 11/05/2013

How many voices?

     Inspired by Lacuna Coil's "I Won't Tell You."

You believe you've heard it all,
but how many voices have you heard?
Rushing headlong unto destruction in arrogance,
you kindled bitterness against its fire yourself,

taking your time in deep rebellion, with meaning,
thinking you would prevail, but you're not the potter.
So how many voices did you cast aside, spitting?
I followed your dank trail of darkness,

while watching you always sidestep the light,
and became witness against you unto…,
...unto your day of final separation & destruction,
light (for you), and darkness of you, utterly gone,

which had always been so close,
so very close at hand.

--RK, 11:15pm, 11/4/2013

Forbidden

     Inspired by Karate Kid (2010) w/Jackie Chan

Many forbade me, but Mom opened the door

silently, watching very closely, always near.

The fight was coming and I had to be ready,

ready for the defense of life, reaching within.

A few black eyes & none could take me.

I wrestled them to full Nelson without warning,
allowing them no breath, taking my time,

so they’d know I was just passing through+...

...on to deeper levels for THE... fight of my life.

In the etheric it’s a different Kung Fu.

And in this forbidden place I was established.

None would, or could, approach of the unsought,

the halt, blind & lame of flesh & mind.

---------------------------------------------------------

The quiet early years were my strength,

which she made sure I had for my journey

beyond kill zone & ramparts of the sun...

...unto release...

--RK, 7:37pm, 11/2/2013

I can't hide...

     (...not from you.)

          (Inspired by Dido’s Here with me & White Flag)

...but I can breathe, in my quiet corner.
You’re close, but I’m far removed, tantamount to gone.
Still, so still, I’m here entangled in animate glimmer.
You don't know now, but you will soon...

...that I can’t hide when I'm every when,
no place home, memories finally fading,
even the most precious ones, held so close.
Time’s end calls me, but I can’t hide...

...not from its last moment when...
...“when” all things end to begin again,
this “time” in most utter perfection,
when nothing’s left of former things...

--RK, 9:41pm, 10/31/2013

Lina-solopoesie: IL MIO AQUILONE

Still of time

     (Inspired by...)

I've seen the still of time standing on its end,

far beyond 4D's limits+ lost, & all opens up,

resonant sound storm, plethora of the deep,

seeing everywhere & nowhen at once...

...while its symphony, resident, resplendent,

echoes no delay, merging into fullness,

fullness of perception, time unmoving,

all things a glimmer, in abeyance of duration.

I focus between two seconds, chosen,

while Santana Abraxas plays in still of time,

yet found again 46 years hence, suspended,

just as vivid...

--RK, 9:58pm, 10/29/2013

Ricochet (note to self)

Bounce not, my son, off infinity's bounds,

ricocheting across the universe, out of control,

in great control of prana you gathered to propel

you unto its ends, undiscovered, incredibly intricate,

but earnestly sought after in the Universe's confines,

confines of infinity bounded against precipice,

threshold of eternity's boundlessness close,

which you knew was there, and was why

you threw yourself across the Universe intentionally,
to reach its distant "edges," gaining momentum,

in hopes of speeding past infinity, unto eternity,

which, when finally you arrived to knock...

...opened and gathered you in, in 1970,

when third heaven's door finally opened.

-------------------------------------------

My friend, bounce not again in desperation,

but in enduring hope that the door will open...,

only once more, unto paradise.

--RK, 9:39pm, 9/8/2012; 11:43pm, 10/26/2013

This is not exaltation

Next to the utter, perfect loneness,

I cry out at first, misunderstanding,

but I remember "when" eternity

'was' a hallway trodden by none,

none but Yahweh alone far beyond,

long 'before' thought of angel or man.

This was not exaltation, but lone initiation,

initiation unto loneness beyond loneliness,

beyond lonely, great grandfather of melancholy.

Lonely I understood, loneliness I had,

in deep melancholy I was, searching hard,

seeing loneness ahead forging my path.

And this path easily pushed beyond

the mountains and ramparts of the sun,

beyond the inner sanctums of time,

unto the very shore of eternity itself,

this same eternity I wrote about

in a theme paper for Mrs. Reid

when I was twelve at my desk, alone.

--RK, 12:14am, 10/26/2013

     (See also: "In the aforetime..." [posted 2007])

This loneliness

It’s different, melancholy’s only friend, elder.
Deepening melancholia beyond just being alone,
this loneliness, the dimension beyond lonely,
transcends all & only the Ancient of Days nears.

Hallways of time’s paling reach not there,
not into the wall-less hallway of eternity,
where once none other joined Him,
in His original, perfect loneness,

from which all existence sprang.
The true and only divinity understood
and brought us forth, some to melancholy,
some to loneliness, some utterly alone,

and a few, close, beyond shore’s distance,
and of all time, to soul & spirit, once again,
once again to know far-beyond brilliance itself,
unto original loneness along eternity’s hallway,

…unseen by any other. - *selah*

--RK, 10:59pm, 10/25/2013
   (See also: “In the aforetime…”+)

Eyes of others...

     (I think you'll understand.)

     Inspired by Lacuna Coil's

        "(Your) Heaven's a Lie"

...but I've never seen them.

Words fall between ears & understanding.

How can I bridge over to the far shore,

a shore of your own you've never seen?

Eyes of others I've never seen,

not in this quiet place inside,

where I've never found another,

the same eyes that tell me

this, that or the other, unknown of them.

I've never seen them here,

here in this, this quiet place,

one like unto nothing ever seen of them.

Words fall between ears & understanding

where I find no shore of apprehension,

only an unvisited desolation of wilderness,

your own outback you've never crossed,

understanding's bright shore waiting the other side.

--RK, 10:58pm, 10/24/2013

Tattery

Tattered rag of my life,

too tragic to tell of,

left to languish unto anguish,

I still manage to shake it off.

Still, I'm tattered beyond appearance,

l'anguish ubiquitous by my side.

I reach out, but very few understand,

nurture & cultivate affection precious.

Not alone, I see many who are, though

many crowd them, worse off than I,

in this tragedy of separation, when oneness,

undivided, lies so very close deep within,

toward the edges of eternity, its shores

shining bright & close, invisible to them.

In my tattery though, this one understands,

in l'anguish, melancholia nearby, waiting,

its brother in ubiquity.

--RK, 8:03pm, 10/26/2013

Exactly

[Inspired by Lacuna Coil's "End of Time" &
     Evanescence's "My Immortal"]

I know why I cry, when tears can't be held.
I don't flounder, emotion discovered early.
I didn't 'play' only in my own pond.
I made emotion, at large, personal, comforting.

I was never alone, but allowed, encouraged
to go it alone to find its common thread
that most I'd ever meet would decry.
But I've known a very long time now.

Though I've been alone all along
I've plumbed depths of all emotion high,
often unto deep elation I could never share
no matter how much I wanted to.

No fears ever held me back, because I knew
exactly why I felt how I did, especially,
especially along my journey deep within,
the only 'place' I knew I'd ever find the truth.

     *selah*

--RK, 9:18pm, 10/14/2013

Sentimental knot

Not another soulful folk song,
not this time, not now.
Not your stories, mine now,
from before time's mists formed,

when time was young, unpast,
I stood in utter oneness, nothing divided,
nothing diminished, nothing disturbed,
this oneness, oneness beyond awareness,

unto tendrils of consciousness which took sure hold
beyond all things perceived, finally,
beyond the beyond, time's portal passed,
utterly, unto ramparts, first seen sunward,

and remembered on first clambered step,
onto the threshold of a very old dream, untold.

--RK, 9:02pm, 8/30/2013