While algae’s greening in the swamp And ogres in the forest romp, The villagers would have a dance, A masquerade, and take a chance Some ogre with a fairy might Pretend to waltz then start a fight. They’ve never liked each other much Although it’s heard they sometimes touch. It’s even heard they sometimes kiss! But I’d doubt all reports of this. It’s rumored that they even love. What can these fools be thinking of? The dance will give them roles to play. For some there might be words to say. It’s safe to meet behind disguise To look into each other’s eyes. Of course, they know what each has done, But from the present, who can run? We’ll have that dance, no matter what. Yes, worried folks will worry, but Tonight we’ll take a chance on change. Let something, somewhere rearrange, Then, whether they like it or not, They’ll get the love they’ve always got.
And that’s when Alice wanted to know when
I was going to grow up and she apologized
for giving me the arsenic even though it was
only imaginary arsenic and then she started
crying because she wasn’t real any more than
that arsenic and that’s why she acted the way
she did and I told her ‘It’s OK’ because what
else was I going to say and then I told her that
even atoms were almost all empty space, nothing
there, and she said, ‘Really?’ and I said ‘Sure’
and then she wanted to know about that tiny stuff
in the middle of the atom and she started to cry
again and I had to tell her that when that stuff
was a wave of potentiality it wasn’t there any
more than she was and she said, ‘Really?’ and
I had to think because I didn’t want to lie to
her and I didn’t want her to start crying again
and as far as I could tell she was more real
than any old atom was and so I said ‘Sure’.
Blown-up detail, black on blue,
Stops the eye from looking through
To the blue-pink water-sky,
Cloudy bubbles rising high
Thrown like soft reality
Teasing, pleasing peacefully
As the day drops toward its end,
Lonely lover, faithful friend.
I told myself that I should be about 170 pounds
and sometimes I check in the morning to see if
my body got the message and usually it didn’t,
but it turned out today that the scale showed 167
pounds which kind of surprised me and made
me wonder if there was something wrong with
the scale or if I needed to tell my eyes to see
more clearly but it looks like my body finally came
through and then I wondered what if I could
levitate and then Alice appeared and she wanted
to know what I was doing and I told her that my
body finally did what I told it to do and she wasn’t
impressed and she wanted to know about that
levitating nonsense I was jabbering about and I
told her I thought it would be cool to become
weightless for a while and she told me that would
mess up my ideas about gravity and did I really want
another cognitive dissonance experience so soon
and then she mumbled something I deliberately
ignored about needing to appreciate whatever
experiences I might have while I had the chance.
A second link to dVerse Meeting the Bar. Amaya is hosting and hopefully this poem is more in line with the prompt. By the way, I now weight about 160 pounds and we have upgraded our technology since those dark ages to a digital scale.
A pretty, plastic flower won’t grow a seed
Though we might think it could with just a glance.
If we insist, indeed, it has a chance,
That only means that we have been deceived.
Computers read, but cannot understand.
They speak, but they cannot be entertained
And nothing new to them has been explained
Though everything and more they have at hand.
So why should anyone presume that we
Could be replaced by what is not aware
Though sentimentalized as if it were?
The flower in the basement cannot be
As real as those that bloom in fresher air
Whom bees enjoy and breezes calmly stir.
The only thing some say that I can know
Is what’s subjective, and I’m fine with that,
But when I shoot electrons aiming at
A double slit I trust I still can show
I fired something definite although
If I could tell which slit each one went through
I’d change the way they must have done that, too,
Implying dumb reality must go.
Hey! I don’t mind. The world seems better when
The matter that I thought was dead depends
Upon some deeper Consciousness to be.
If that configuration’s better, then
It changes almost everything and sends
Me looking for those Eyes that look at me.