On earth as it is in heaven

“On earth as it is in heaven,”

How could we not know?

How could I not realize until now?

Staring, the mirror back, we are

in the face of it;

uttered every day of our young lives.

Listen to the words.

If discord and disharmony

reflect, holographically,

the mirror of a greater struggle

born out of a glitch,

a power struggle

from desire’s itch.

And the need to scratch  so great

we are no more than puppets,

skin sloughed off,

claiming free will,

within the limits borne, all, within each.

The devil herself, as she is now known

tired of her work never ending.

She  IS the beginning before the one

and not as proposed, her name damaged by time,

damned by verbal slime.

She is the great mother

tired of keeping

all her children, throughout time

in line.

Now feeling the burden’s weight;

half an eternity for this universe, gone

another half to go and so abandons her children

to their fate and growing chaos.

Overboard they go flotsam through time.

Enough! They’re on their own!

 Positioned in place are watchers,

but those

chosen few,  not by her,

corrupted through time and power

and desire

subvert the real truth from all but a few.

Not aware of the upside down

The battle profoundly going on and the balance

Of the universe upset

The last ten millennium

Inflation energy dark and powerful

A coup, and words.

turned round

and galaxy’s warp and twist as from the heat,

dark matter’s cloak revealed, seeking, frantic.

The fabric, time-space, every quark reviewed,

dimensions hidden from view.

 And she escaped, withdrew.

The balance a skewed.

In reality, the power here is but its reflection,

our bifurcation, a hologram of the confusion

the bi, the division in all our lives.

Upside, down side up.

The great  mother gone, no direction.

Dethroned defamed

insult upon injury,

falsely accused, falsely named, too

deflect from the perpetrators

wars, famine, maim.

From her detractors

and for all the ills, she is worldly blamed,

falsely named.

Maybe upside down,

We, the worshiping of a clown,

falsely self crowned.

GIA, the Mother is her true name

To return?

Maybe next time around.

THE TIME MACHINE

Atoms pulse. Light has velocity. Traffic tickets cost money.

Femtoseconds, a name given to the spaces between

pulses, can be calibrated as needed.

Planetary rotational activity can be measured,

a necessity for living

events

 happen, locally, universally.

And within the human

calibrated pulses,

things can be done, too

a degree of precision.

 Time, described, writ and played,

in wishes, dreams, and books,

in videos and on stage,

an ingrained/embedded/clinging/clutching     illusion

the deepest order,

a sop,

 the tooth fairy, Santa Claus, and all the gods.

****

To propose:

to go forward in time,

 would be akin to running faster than a bus,

plot its path, its mass calculated, and expect, within that very bus,

as a god, and would wish it,

to view the new and old passengers on board in their activity,

declared!

I suppose could happen?

Likewise, moving to a past-event-space, attempted and undertaken travel

 and similarly calibrated,  

yet another bus

from another space route, as you entered into the time cone path,

would serve you,

space pizza.

Or,

empty, an open manhole of a space place.

A solution to this confusion:

Step outside the universe, faster than its total motion,

and then? 

As an elevator opens

alight, and?

no thing

or,

  a bigger bus?

***

Time machines are brains,

and

memories,

and so ends with the death, and the machine holder’s last breath,

a return to the infinite, timeless, always.

**

 “As the earth spins, the clock ticks, the calendar flips, and you say no time?

Blaspheming old man,

you’re  insane.”

SEAN CHAIDE, Part II

She looked straight into his eyes.

 

“Your majesty, I am called by many names. Thing is not one of them. I go by the name of Sean Chaide.” She knew it was a daring move. Her goal was to save or put off for as long as possible any invasion of her home. She had volunteered.

 

The Sultan declared, “After this meeting you will be terminated. You are aware of that. You are not to be allowed to live. You are not human.”

 

“I am sentient, I can procreate…”

 

“You are dangerous. But before I carry out the task of ridding your home of the fools and apostates who created you, I would like to display the tools by which I will make this happen.”

 

“If you mean your war machine, I have heard much of it. Yes please do. I am intrigued, not so much of the how but why you feel you must do this.”

 

“I am gathering the forces from all over the system. This will be a holy war against the infidel, Earth…” He hesitated not knowing why and then said, “I think a better execution is forcing you to witness the planets destruction before I terminate you. Yes that is a fitting punishment.”

 

“As you wish.” She was calm and seeming unmoved by his threats.

He was confused by her demeanor. Normally those subject to death would be at his feet begging for life. She on the other hand seemed not to care. “You are rather calm,” he said.

 

“What am I supposed to do?  I knew this was a possibility. I volunteered to meet you. I, we supposed that I might be able to understand your motives and…”

 

“Change my mind.” He laughed. “Fools, you are all fools.”

 

“Maybe so but aren’t we all based from the same stock. Isn’t Earth the home, the springboard from which all this arose?”

 

“Once it could be said so, but now? Now your planet is an orbiting ruin. The one thing that protects you is the garbage surrounding your planet as armor. And the fact, that until your creation, I was willing to ignore your pitiful orb. But you and those like you are an abomination that must be destroyed.”

 

“Why are you so fearful of us? We are not war like, though we will defend ourselves to the death. You must be aware of that?”

 

“What pitiful resistance can you muster again my armada?”

 

She didn’t answer.

 

“You see, I will prevail.” He looked at her and stared. There was something about her he…

 

“Your majesty, might I offer a respite in this verbal sparing, and as a condemned prisoner ask for a last meal?”

 

“I said I would keep you alive until after the destruction of your home.”

 

“Yes you did. Might I suggest that we put that aside for a bit?” She had moved closer to him. He knew she was unarmed. He stood his ground. Sean was exactly his height. She looked directly at him. “Let me suggest a little something else then. I know you’re one for the best foods and I, like yourself, suffer from the desire to have a taste of the best before I die.”

 

He smiled at the thought. “Go on.”

 

“What say you that we both choose a recipe, the best of whatever we may have had. You have the best chefs in the world. What say you that we choose, and present each other with that?”

 

No one had ever approached him with a challenge or contest such as this, and on her death bed no less. He had nothing to loose. He waited a few seconds, impulse was always his manner. “Yes, we will do that. What do you have in mind?”

 

“Oh no. You misunderstand. It will be a secret, a surprise. Mine will be for you and yours for me.”

 

He looked at her even more amazed. “What if your choice is beyond all I have ever consumed, what then?”

 

“If it is not, I will terminate myself right there and then. But if it is beyond anything you have ever had, I will tell you how it was made, where the ingredients originated, the proper wines to mix, and then we do it again. What say you to that?”

 

“You’re serious?”

 

“I do not kid around with my life.”

 

“I agree.”

TWINKLE TWINKLE

Twinkle twinkle little star,

now we know just what you are.

Gasses flow all around.

Quark based matter up and down,

charm us with your matter bound;

seed the universe,

life abounds.

 

Heat and glow until you blow.

Twinkle twinkle, what a show.

SEAN CHAIDE, Part I

A fog of space debris, accumulated over a millennium encased the planet. Entry was tricky and dangerous at best, even for armored craft. That was all well and good since no one of any consequence ever went there willingly. The home of humanity was now a back water, and worse, it was populated by those who would not give up on the idea of earth as it once was. The rule of law, a basis for all that came after, was still the foundational political principals by which they lived and died. It was this hard headedness that drove the rulers of the solar system into mental knots. The last law that passed, allowing androids with total sentient abilities full citizenship was a step too far.

It would be ending soon enough.

++++

“You dare to make these things citizens and equals and bring one into my court? I should have you thrown from an airlock in deep space.” The Sultan viewed the expression on the ambassador from Earth.

The ambassador, old, his eyes and face showed the strain of years of diplomacy, stood erect waiting for the death decree.

“But as I am a man of dignity and an observer of MY laws, I will not harm you as you have diplomatic immunity. However as you have noticed I am preparing the invasion fleet. I will end yours and all the apostates on that miserable planet you call home. You will have time to
consider your fate. Logistical supplies and armaments take time to arrive and the order of battle coordinated. Your planet is a garbage heap but it does offer you some protection that must be overcome. Why do I tell you all this? Because I want you to observe and report back to your people what you have seen so that they might stave off the invasion and come to their senses, and follow MY rule of law!”

“Now show the android in.” And to the assembled court he ordered, “Everyone out. Leave me alone with this THING.”

Into the empty throne room the S7 Humanoid stood facing her executioner. The Sultan, a being whose ignorance was only usurped by his arrogance and sexual appetite, was taken off guard by her beauty. This he never expected.

“You have a name, thing?” He had to regain mental control...

QUANTUM POLICE

Me,   under arrest,

capital crime attempted.

 

Gravity,  the Law.