Mirror Particles and Mud/Symmetry and Synchronization

Meditation

I watched as the wind blew a few grains of sand off the sandcastle near me. The castles structure seemed pretty advanced for something built so casually. A few cloud cups and unopened packs of fireworks lay next to it. I looked at the water again then up at the sky and noticed the symmetry.

I moved my feet so that they were planted in the sand, then I closed my eyes again. The winds temperature and the stray breezes became easier to detect. The longer I stood still, the more things around me began to melt. The ocean air cut through the space in my mind, and for a split second I thought I saw my reflection in the passing breeze. After a moment, the breeze sat still. Then it spiraled into a small tornado while somehow maintaining its stillness.

 

 

The split second met its reflection and began to continuously split creating an infinite amount of moments within the moment and within the shuffle.

 

 

Meditation/Path of Discovery

I watched as the compass tilted, magnetic amongst other things. Tomorrow is built on the raindrops and ink raindrops that eventually turn into mirror particles as they fall. Tomorrow’s structure seemed pretty advanced for something built so causally. I looked at the water again then up at the sky and noticed the symmetry.

The feeling arrives and the vividness increases exponentially. The longer I stood still the more I was able to notice, until everything else seemed to be standing still. Synchronization expands the vividness and for a split second we catch a glimpse of the spectrum. I looked at the water again then up at the mirror particles and noticed the symmetry.

 

Untitled design

 

Wind so sharp and crisp that a gust could start a fire out of thin air.

The chalky echoes and the warm stillness.

 

Untitled design

 

Mirror Particles

While searching for the feeling I found existence. Chasing a feeling and running directly into a reflection. Again, stopped in my tracks as the moment hands the baton to forever.

Another tilt in the compass.

The nearby waters and far away ocean currents were reflective of the magnetics just as the auroras were.

 

 

 


 

A few more poems:

https://poets.org/poem/aerodynamics

https://poets.org/poem/thousand-somethings-someone

https://poets.org/poem/impression-du-matin

 


 

 

 

“My life amounts to no more than one drop in a limitless ocean. Yet what is any ocean, but a multitude of drops?”
― 
David Mitchell, Cloud Atlas

 

 

“Radiate boundless love towards the entire world — above, below, and across — unhindered, without ill will, without enmity.” – Buddha

Warmness and Radiation/Blue Warmness

The compass tilted until the needle had spun into a full circle, shifting the spectrum of directions.

Now able to see the loop, I get dizzy trying to keep up with its movements, the loop is just the top of the glass, a full circle before reaching the message in a bottle.

 


 

How often the seconds separate and double reflect everything except for that elusive spot of brightness. Awareness watching itself in the double reflection, the reflections multiply and split into halves until they begin to resemble the particles of the mist.

I looked at the changing reflection of the moment, of that nature I am curious, but mustn’t we keep up with the winds of the shuffle? Careful as it goes by.

Two different types of wind, one from here and one from somewhere a little further away.

Now able to see the loop, I get dizzy trying to keep up with its movements, the loop is just the top of the glass, a message in a bottle, down the rabbit hole.

Wishing I could keep up with the moment as it double reflected the infinite. The flame in the distance cut through the mist and it seemed to tilt in the same nature as mine did.

 A shift in the spectrum and a change in the way the compass tilts.

Etched into the moment from winds of the shuffle, the flame’s reflection began to travel further with the mist of the moment, connecting with other reflections as it traveled.

The compass tilted until the needle had spun into a full circle. Then the flame tilted until it had spun into a full circle.

 

 

Untitled design

 

 

As it held that shape for a moment or two, with its measurements being oddly similar to the shape of the compass, it seemingly had taken on the nature of a flame that was experiencing 0 gravity.

Just before the flame returned to its normal shape, I noticed that it also resembled that elusive spot of brightness within the reflections.

 

 

 

Untitled design

 

 

 


A few more poems 

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/collections/146462/poetry-and-the-environment

 


 

 

 

“Radiate boundless love towards the entire world — above, below, and across — unhindered, without ill will, without enmity.” – Buddha

Warmness

The split second faded into its connection with forever, that same glow coming from all around us.

The compass tilted until the needle had spun into a full circle, shifting the spectrum of directions.

Synchronization and awareness. The synchronization of awareness within the spectrum. Context and a taste of radiation poisoning, the split second met its reflection and began to continuously split. There was something in the picture, in the background, just outside of my field of view.

 

Untitled design

 

The heart arcs overhead, I can hear it but my eyes can never catch it. The flame spirals, almost enough to burn the coat if it wasn’t a part of it.

The mist of the moment was settled and chaotic, the potential becomes radiation among the blue warmness.

That same hum coming from your energy, that same glow coming from all around us.

 

 

 


A few more interesting poems

https://poets.org/poem/winter

https://poets.org/poem/ancient-pond

https://poets.org/poem/much-and-more

 

There will be another blog post up sometime tomorrow that ties in with this one. Thanks for the good energy, and thanks for reading.


 

 

 

“Radiate boundless love towards the entire world — above, below, and across — unhindered, without ill will, without enmity.” – Buddha

 

Wonder the Warm Background

Society’s Muse is finally done, and I’ve finally spelled Society’s Muse right (lol). It’s been quite a while; I’ve been working on that and a few other things. I decided that before I release Society’s Muse which has about four parts, I’ll release d.l.j on here in order, one or two poems at a time. Society’s Muse ties into that and the project that comes after it, so it will give a little more background and context to the overall idea. In the meantime, I’m going to revamp a few posts and release them in the correct order. Thanks for giving me a chance to share this with you guys, see you Friday.


Here are a few poems from poets.org that I thought were cool, I hope you enjoy them too:

https://poets.org/your-heart-parking-meter

https://poets.org/poem/gathering-artists

https://poets.org/poem/sonnet-winter

https://poets.org/poem/falling-star

 

And here are a few pieces of motivation to help you stay positive.

“Radiate boundless love towards the entire world — above, below, and across — unhindered, without ill will, without enmity.” – Buddha

“If you are quiet enough, you will hear the flow of the universe. You will feel its rhythm. Go with this flow. Happiness lies ahead. Meditation is key.” – Buddha

 


Wonder seems to be the warm background, static at times, blue and static.


 

Image by: https://www.shutterstock.com/g/Rob+Z
1st poem Your Heart is a Parking Meter written by Tucker Leighty-Pillips
2nd poem On Gathering Artist written by Alberto Rios
3rd poem Sonnet Winter written by Emily Chubbuck Judson
4th poem Falling Star written by Sara Teasdale
I’ll try to catch the part of me that is falling. Until then I’ll try to learn how use my wings from the butterflies that hand me the phone when you’re calling. – Arron Leland

 

Photon/S.S Blue Radiation

A single snowflake falls into the rabbit hole.

Walking back to the lake to see our reflections, curving each step to the tempo of our hearts.

A glimpse of the original blindness.

The last part of Societies Muse will tie it all together. After Societies Muse the idea I want to go over is The Tilts in the Compass which is also a reoccurring theme here. There will be a set of poems exploring that concept just as we did with Societies Muse.

 


 

Blink, blink then become

Carry your ideas on a halo; the aura always throws them off. That same glow is coming from your cup. We sit at desks, designing seats for the rocket. Broken cup holders and questions of an inflight movie make all of us laugh. Is everybody here? Carry your ideas on a set of wings; the aura always throws them off. That same glow is coming from your cup.

The steps feel like leaps.

Flares light up the road.

             No satellite’s eyes could see through the ink in the second sky.

I pace in worn-down shoes for nothing,

Although I wonder how my shoes had become so worn from walking on a cloud.

The steps feel like leaps.

I miss the forwardness from back then; now, forward actually means what it is. Then, it meant hope.

That same glow is coming from your future.

The electric charge, the lighting in a bottle, the static that forever fills the air.

What sways the heart and gives life direction?

Mimic the breeze that makes your hair stand up

I pace in worn down shoes for nothing although I wonder how my shoes had become so worn down from walking on a cloud.

Becoming accustom to lava and mud

Accustom to ocean vents and the creation of new islands

Frankenstein’s neck bolts as ice cubes and sparks from the bottle fell into our cups, as the sky poured electricity into the atmosphere

The neck bolts brought my vision back

Existence then awareness

Blink, blink then become

 


 

Thanks for reading and here are two articles and two poems that hint at some of the ideas that I will be covering in the last part of Societies Muse, and I really enjoyed reading these two poems and I hope you do too. Have good day and thanks for the support.

https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2019/04/190415160820.htm
https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2019/08/190805134054.htm
https://poets.org/poem/moment-1
https://poets.org/poem/blessing-wedding

Mimic the breeze that makes your hair stand up

That same glow is coming from your future.

 


 

Image by https://www.shutterstock.com/g/arztsamui
1st Science Daily article written by Stuart Wolpert
2nd Science Daily article written by Erica k. Brockmeier
1st poem written by Mary Elizabeth Coleridge
2nd poem written by Jane Hirshfield

Main Poetry written by Arron Leland
I’ll try to catch the part of me that is falling. Until then I’ll try to learn how use my wings from the butterflies that hand me the phone when you’re calling. – Arron Leland

∞/Belgium/Thin Air

I’ll try to bring this idea full circle with the next post, thanks for reading.

 


 

f=g (m_(1 ) m_2 )/r^2

 

The longer I tried to stay awake the more my imagination took over.

Gravity becoming less and less, falling awake. Even while I drifted, falling awake.

Aesthetics melt, becoming another type of rain, both types move with gravity sometimes choosing to side with it, other times choosing to disagree. What would be perfectly modified for us to see.

Even before my vision was swallowed by the blindness, I only knew what was in front of me by curving each step to the tempo of my heart. In cursive I loop my way through these lands curving each step to the tempo of my heart.

The tempo of my heart Morse codes itself into my steps and creates the path that turns into the cursive loops, sometimes it creates a linear loop.

Gravity becoming less and less, falling awake. Even while I drifted, falling awake.

Fighting my sleep long enough for the sunlight to comb over the area I was in. Swept away from my sleepiness, and into the wonder by the traveling sun rays. Lucky and naïve but these moments are what help us believe.

The mist fluctuated, curving as my steps did. Each small piece of the mist began reflecting the particles of light, giving a disco ball effect to each piece of the mist. Along with that effect came the blue radiation.

Standing still within the now, I miss the forwardness from back then. The fleeting but infinite sits in between the spaces of the raindrops, splitting interpretation into sets. I miss the forwardness from back then.

The planet’s orbit curved to the tempo of the solar system’s compass, sometimes the curve was sharp enough to create a reflection.

Atlas felt the comb of the sunlight’s eyelashes. The spark of wonder sat still with the infinite between the spaces of the raindrops. Wonder reflects off of forever and lights the lineage and trajectory of thought.

Lucky and naïve but these moments are what help us believe.

Setting out, setting out

The potential that sits within each moment eventually becomes forever, just as the future will eventually become the now, but the further we go the more the perception of what now is melts.

The future will always become the now but there will always be a future until we find the “infinite moment.”

 

v_esc= √(2gm/r)

 


 

 

Poetry written by Arron Leland
I’ll try to catch the part of me that is falling. Until then I’ll try to learn how use my wings from the butterflies that hand me the phone when you’re calling. – Arron Leland

Atlas and the Original Blindness/Navigating the Surface

Down the rabbit hole, and further into the idea of the muse we go.

 

 


 

 

The speed at which,

Look out the window for Schrödinger’s cat and the heavens shift.

Lucky and naïve but these moments are what help us believe.

The blue radiation melds with the expanding spaces, the potential within each moment expands the floors even faster. The arrival of the original blindness lets me use only my heart to see.

No matter where my journey takes me bits of blue radiation will surround some points on the map. Trails of light, and campfires sit in places where we tried to understand the loss of sight.

The land spaces on the map were curved and rigid in many different places like the letters of the language I use. The poetry of the earth is written in lava and mud and eventually cooled into the lands we know of today. In cursive I loop my way through these lands curving each step to the tempo of my heart.

Sun rays comb different sides of the planet as the solar system tilts like a compass.

My own consciousness greatly resembling,

My own heart greatly resembling

The horizon’s eyelashes comb different sides of the planet as the solar system tilts like a compass.

Make sure to watch the time throughout our journeys many nights go by but when I’m with you it seems like the sky has only blinked twice.

I try to hold up my eyes after the heavens shift to watch the night sky. Atlas keeps the horizon’s eye open, letting us see through the sky’s lens. Atlas held up the sky just as I tried to hold up my eyes to let my imagination flow a little longer. The longer I tried to stay awake the more my imagination took over.  As I looked out to the sky’s lens that Atlas held open my dreams looked out the window of my eye from deep inside my heart.

I thought about the countless formations into which the chimes could be arranged and the countless formations into which the raindrops could fall, and the countless formations my thoughts sometimes take.

The curve of the continuum found its way into the tempo. The ink rain found its way onto the map. The ink slowly covers the pictures of the land on the map just as concepts overlay letters to give them meaning.

Look out the window for Schrödinger’s cat and the heavens shift.

A feeling that captures the moment, radiation and ink began to float outside of the context.

Dark spots in my vision began to swallow my sight entirely.

 

 


 

 

Poetry written by Arron Leland
I’ll try to catch the part of me that is falling. Until then I’ll try to learn how use my wings from the butterflies that hand me the phone when you’re calling. – Arron Leland

Powered by WordPress.com.

Up ↑