Poetry – Quantum Artistry

Quantum Artistry

Quantum artistry

Of random pleasure

Revealing wonders

Of infinite treasure.

Cosmic vagaries,

Unfathomable wonder,

Creating mysteries

For us to plunder.

Molecular majesty

Biochemical delight,

Combining catalysts

Creating sight.

Atomic awareness

In guise of life

On a single planet

Consciousness is rife.

Opher – 19.10.2020

We do not live in the world we think we live in. The stability is an illusion.

We live in a quantum universe where everything is stranger than we can imagine.

In this quantum universe atoms combine, molecules merge and life is conceived.

Molecules learn to be aware, to see, hear and think.

We are those molecules.

Poetry – The Magic Strand

The Magic Strand

A rollercoaster ride down the magic strand,

Through aeons,

Traversing a billion forms

All from the same,

Spiralling through time.

Replicating,

                Mutating,

                                Innovating.

Making carbon think.

Careering through genetic codes,

Through eras,

Creating myriad varieties,

The forms of life.

Reproducing,

                Generating,

                                Propagating,

Another living link.

Opher – 18.10.2020

There is magic going on in front of our very eyes. It’s called life.

It began through some amazing set of chance three billion years ago. Randomly. Just once.

We are surrounded by it and take it all for granted.

We are part of something stupendous.

It is time we realised what a wonder it is.

Poetry – We Are Of It

We are of it.

All part of it,

                In it,

                                Of it.

Not apart.

It lives in us.

We are all one.

                Not superior,

                                No order,

Not apart.

All part of the same,

                The whole,

                                The oneness.

Equal.

All fired by

                The same,

                                Chemistry.

Metaphysically.

Not apart.

Connected.       

Oneness.

Sacred.

Opher – 19.10.2020

All life on this planet started from the same magical beginning. Only once. We are all related. That protein/DNA construct we call life began and has propagated itself into a myriad of self-replicating forms. It has learnt to swim, to walk, to crawl and talk, to fly and wonder. It is aware. It is conscious. It can think.

It is not just us that is important, not just us that is aware. All of life shares these attributes.

Life is aware.

We are part of something spectacular and sacred, not apart from it.

Poetry – Once

Once

Once,

Just chance,

Making matter talk.

Once,

Pure fluke,

Making matter walk.

Awareness,

Consciousness,

Out of thin air.

Extravagance,

Outrageousness

Everywhere.

Exploding awareness

On a mad spiral ride.

Civilised stupidity

That cannot be denied.

We were arrogantly

Separated

From the cosmic thread.

Now we pay the price

For not using our head.

Once,

We were

All together.

Now,

Apart,

In hostile weather.

Opher – 17.10.2020

Out of inert matter chance unleashed thought, life blossomed. Just once. Just here. We were part of it. Breathing the same air. Sharing the same DNA. A marvel.

But we became separated, thought we were somehow different, that we were superior.

We destroyed the very thing we are part of, the web of wonder that gives us life.

Now we put ourselves in danger.

Poetry – Spirals of Life

Spirals of Life

Spiralling through the galaxy

On a wondrous strand.

All life mapped out

In the palm of my hand.

All connected.

You and me.

Everything that breathes –

One family.

One continuous body

Made up of many parts.

In sap and blood

Brains and hearts.

All connected.

You and me.

Everything that breathes –

One family.

We all read the same code –

The same four letters.

Free as the wind

Without fetters.

All connected.

You and me.

Everything that breathes –

One family.

Rejoice, Rejoice,

We speak with the same voice.

Opher – 16.10.2020

DNA the language of life. Everything that lives has the same beginning. We all are related.

From an amoeba to a whale we have existed just as long and read from the same code.

All life interconnected on this one lump of rock, diversifying, growing and living right up until our sun explodes.

Enjoy. It’s all we have.

Poetry – Hunting and Dreaming

Hunting and Dreaming

We came from the South

Across the ice,

Hunting and dreaming.

We spread throughout the world

Throwing dice,

Planning, fighting and scheming.

We conquered and bred

As feral mice,

Until the world was teeming.

Now we totter on the brink,

Paying the price,

As the world lies steaming.

Opher – 8.10.2020

Making our way out of Africa we followed the hunting. We were incredibly successful. Our numbers ballooned.

We wiped out the megafauna in no time at all.

Now eight billion of us are felling the forests, poisoning the land and working our way through the rest of life on the planet.

We’ll kill anything for profit or fun.

Life, Questions, Funerals and Blasphemy – an extract from ‘Farther from the Sun’.

The real question is – do we ever learn anything from the chaos of our lives?

I think not. Our lives seem so arbitrary. Leave a few seconds later, or earlier, on a journey and you might be killed or not killed. Ring a few seconds earlier and you have the job. Every decision is a gain and a loss and who is to say which would have been the better?

So what can I pass on to my kids? What advice can I ever give a friend? I don’t want them to die. I want them to be happy and fulfilled. Apart from the obvious – stay away from heroin, motorbikes and cigarettes – find a nice exciting, sensitive, compassionate, intelligent, girl or boy, have fun but don’t do anything daft – it all sounds so trite.

I can’t even tell you what shape a good life is.

I can’t explain how to be happy.

I want my children to be safe. But safety is boring. I want them to be adventurous and live. But adventure is dangerous. I wish them a billion experiences. I want them to taste the extremes but not too much. It’s about the right balance, the right degree of risk.

Maybe Bob was right when he was talking about heroin to me. He said it was like a big calm ocean. It was like a huge orgasm. You felt warm and safe. You left all your worries and concerns behind. Nothing mattered. You bobbed along and it was great. Of course, he didn’t mention the overdoses, red eyes and running nose or the short life and misery. But at the end of the day what really counts?

What do we want? Quiet desperation with manicured lawns in suburbia? A house, two children and the telly? Washing the flash new car on Sunday. Having enough money not to worry and enough possessions to keep up with the Jones’s?

Running wild with the girls, dope, fast cars and loud music? Up all night rapping. Some craziness. Good friends, laughs and hope you don’t fuck yourself up too quickly.

Creating something worthwhile?

Doing some good?

A middle way?

A bit of all of them?

I’ve tried most of it. Some of it I can’t abide. Some of it you can’t control. I would never want anything that controlled me. I avoid that as if it was plutonium.

I watched my Dad live his life. It appeared to be a boring life of quiet desperation, but I could see evidence of some vestiges of fun and enjoyment. I wanted my life to be full of so much more. I’ve done so much more in some ways, but has my life been better? Who can say?

I’m looking back. They say you should never do that, but how else can you judge which direction to head off in if you don’t have a clear picture of where you’ve been?

I’ve told Liz what to sort out at my funeral. Something raucous, like Little Richard’s Rip It Up and a poem, maybe Allen Ginsberg’s Howl, and Roy Harper’s Cricketer, and one of Rich’s poems. Then something that Liz or the kids wants to put in. Then, they could play Tim’s ‘Crazy Zen Beat Hipsters.

I want it to either be a humanist ceremony followed by burial in unconsecrated ground, returned to nature, or I’m leaving my body to medical science where it can be used to teach people one last time.

If I had the biggest shock of my life and died, and unbelievably came face to face with God, and he was that Abrahamic version, I’d tell him to fuck off for being such an evil bastard.

But that’s not something I’d be expecting to happen and if it did I doubt it would piss him off too much.

I’m not sure you can upset a nuclear energy vibration, can you?

I’d like to listen to my obituary to see what other people thought about my life. Maybe that would give a clue? But I know that it would be lopsided. I doubt too many people would say anything too nasty. Still, it would be nice to hear some of the good things, wouldn’t it?

At the end we usually get our life summed up, in two minutes, by someone that never knew you. That’s ultimately all it’s worth.

I’ve done a lot, explored many avenues, had many interests, enjoyed much good company, travelled the world and created a few things on the way. I’ve brought up a family and maintained a relationship over decades. I wonder if my dad would have been proud of me? I didn’t always make the most of things, I have to admit. I’ve made a lot of mistakes.

I suppose the biggest test is if you had the chance to live it all again which bits would you change?

Wow! If you change a bit you miss out on all the friends and experiences that come later down that road. And what’s the unknown road like? – The road untrod? What unmade friends and weird experiences lie down that route? Could you see one of your precious kids unborn?

I’d most probably not have moved to Hull. But not give up Barny, Hester and Henry. Not anything to put that at risk!

Maybe it’s all a Science Fiction story and we are the products of a bored mind floating in infinite space. This is a dream. We will while away the new millennium mulling it over in the dark and breaking up the boredom of forever. We will smile and laugh at the things we’ve done and cry in all the right places and at the end of the day, it will have been better than nothing.

Maybe all time, and all possibilities, really exist in one moment – as the astrophysicists tell us?

I like to think so. Then there would be no road untrod.

3.11.01

 

Happiness is discovery and wonder with liberal dashes of awe.

3.11.01

Poetry – One Life

One Life

 

We have just one life.

We choose what we do with it.

Some fill it with trivia

And some fill it with distraction;

Some with devotion,

Some with exploration,

And some with creation.

Some spend their lives creating wealth

While others offer a helping hand.

Some abuse and exploit.

Some bring happiness and joy

To family, friends and strangers.

Perhaps in the final seconds,

Before this brief period of awareness

Is brought to an end,

There is a period of reflection

In which a person might conclude

Whether those seconds

In this magic interlude

Were well spent,

Or wasted.

 

Opher – 16.6.2020

Being thankful!

The sun is shining. The temperature is warm. There are white clouds in a blue sky. It is a beautiful day.

I am fit, healthy and feeling good.

Today I opened my eyes again into a fabulous universe that is full of many wonders, beauties and things to discover just like I have done 25,219 times before.

My brain is still functioning well. My senses all operate well. I stop to contemplate what an amazing experience this is.

Today I’m playing a bit of music by Neil Young. I’m contemplating a walk on the hills and a read of a book. I’m thinking about the book I’m working on. I’m meeting up with friends later for a pleasant evening of talk, food, wine and fun. I’m thinking ahead to a concert tomorrow and meeting up with my daughter.

For 25,000 plus days I have experienced this universe. I don’t know how many I have ahead of me – certainly not another 25,000 – but I intend to make full use of every second of them as I can. I want to pack them with love, friendship. writing, reading, travel, music, sex, fun, exploration, thought, learning, experience and joy.

One day I will not open my eyes. There will be no universe to be inspired by. Until then I will live.