Anymore...

A Friend From The North...

It's not the wings that get you,

Mostly,

But the fierce intelligence,

Traveling the globe through the most spiritual places,

Seeing what would be quantum noise to us,

Places we are not,

Anymore.

In the undermind,

I call a friend,

Flight of the mind's eye,

Synchronized beats,

Playing three-D with empty space and time,

Where you are not,

That's mine,

Only because you don't listen,

Anymore...

The small tightness of detail,

The "anywhereness" of infinite scenes,

Elaborate wood carving of fantastica,

Too busy to practice pareidolia in mahogany,

You don't invest in purposeful months,

Anymore...

The quiet places,

Where you see what those places might be,

Inside your own head,

Outside of time,

The Universe between your ears,

You don't spend hours in,

Anymore...

Your time is carved into eighths of an inch,

Spit at you like machine gun fire,

Each tiny quanta painted in someone else's dream palette,

Not your own design,

Not,

Anymore...

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford

(C) 03/22/2025

The High Priestess Of Sound...

The High Priestess Of Sound...

This world we live in is all out of tune,
Changed to fix a mathematical error,
Sometime back in the sixteen hundreds,
A convenience for the composer's sake.

Don't worry the wineglass,
Darling,
It may shatter explosively,
Yet only if it is the finest crystal of purity.

Pure notes devoid of linguistic meaning,
Therein lies the magic,
The root form of creation and cohesion.

A community of pure sound.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 10-26-2018

Twisting Bits...

Twisting Bits...

I've spun electrons since I was two,
Smoked a finger almost like Franklin,
I could easily imagine a key on a kite string,
And flying kites is a joyful bit of wistful magic.

I've flown phone calls,
Spotted airplanes,
And kept the internet humming,
Now I'm learning all about twisting bits,
Logic pretzels if you will,
As twisted as this ol' brain.

It's funny,
But to keep a career in what I've always done,
I have to become certied to nine levels,
Though most of the world thinks it's black magic,
See all the pretty blinky lights?

My head is so wrapped in this world,
Though life is warping by outside my bubble,
It's like a black hole,
Or maybe Hotel California.

Maybe the poetry Gods can sneak me out for a minute,
But the event horizon is pulling,
Pulling hard.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 06/03/2018

Dusty Old Letters From Tesla...

Dusty Old Letters From Tesla...

You can see the genius in the handwriting,
Meticulously cluttered,
Like an attic closet lost for a century.

The dry must is blown off the yellowed envelopes,
All eyes widen with delight.

Back in the day,
It was known as "correspondence,"
Hand-written and soul-bared.

The wonders of the Universe,
Revealed,
Wax seals that had partly re-stuck,
Grudgingly giving up their sleeping secrets.

It was all tales of love,
Love with a mystical beauty un-bound by our petty rules,
Cosmos was her name.

Nicola gave us an adoring view under her skirts.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 07/11/2017

Rembrandt Sleeping, poem #26

A Highly-Charged Particle...

A Highly-Charged Particle...

The stress of the pennies,
They don't rain from Heaven.

A bucket of marital bliss,
Wrapped in a dollar-sign bow.

The wires buzz and hum.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 07/08/2017

Rembrandt Sleeping, poem #24

Stuffed...

Stuffed...

An eerie glow fills the room,
Flick of the switch.

My own thoughts remain unborn,
My head filled to bursting,
With the carefully-crafted thoughts of others,
People I don't even know.

Stuffed.

AquarianM

By Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 06-30-2017

Rembrandt Sleeping - Poem # 20

A Matter Of Focus...

A Matter Of Focus...

What I say,
What I see,
Large-looming things I water in the garden of my life.

It maters little if I despise them,
Not a whit if I wish to uproot,
Nor love and cherish,
The flowers or weeds I speak to will grow.

All the World should pay attention,
Give that payment to the flowers,
For the weeds grow so easily.

It's really all a matter of focus.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 06/19/2017

Fun House Mirrors...

Fun House Mirrors...

I watch the twists and turns of light,
Like a Fresnel lens of insanity,
A beacon of changing tune,
A hurricane-driven weathervane,
An egoic Super Moon of willful ignorance.

Day-by-day we must wonder and fret,
Twisted upon an impaling spike,
Awaiting a hail of stones,
Yet hoping for the kindness of a shovel and bath towels,
Receiving a schizophrenic cyclone.

We've eaten more trail dust and grime than an ancient cowboy,
Run over by our own cattle,
No real awareness of the deed,
Oblivious to the utterly warped light,
Of these fun house mirrors in every room we inhabit.

E. R. Murrow is spinning hard enough to burst into flames,
Mirroring our sad excuse for truths and portents.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 11/16/2016

Grace Hides In Out-Of-The-Way Places...

Grace Hides In Out-Of-The-Way Places...

Is innocence such a dim memory,
Only to be found in flowery script,
Some battered parchment in a long-conquered fortress?

Would Sir Lancelot recognize sweet Guinevere,
Were she cloaked in a business suit,
Creating the fortune of nations?

Time has wound us tight,
Busy with the bother,
Slaves to information overload.

I long for typewriters and quills,
The feel of paper in my hands,
The quiet that falls with darkness that knows only stars and candlelight.

Civility and service are too complex for this age,
They are ghosts that haunt my dreams,
A song my grandparents would sing were they alive.

Perhaps Time is the name of a dragon,
One that slays us without exception or fail.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 11/04/2016

Far Better Than Farcebook...

Far Better Than Farcebook...

Yes,
That's exactly the name I gave it,
For farce it is,
But certainly not scarce.

I don't know if I can bear it,
One more cucumbered kitty,
One more skinned doggy,
Not another man shot in cold blood,
Nor the conspiracies you want to believe,
Neither the ones you don't.

The science,
Oh to be sure,
The nieces and nephews,
Sons and sisters and brothers,
The Dads and the others.

The music and invention,
But not the games and deception.

I'll stay here where the Muses never lie,
Yet always always always,
Keep you wondering how and why.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 10/11/2016

Better Ways...

Better Ways...

I hear a ticking drumbeat that calls me in the night,

To an other-world,

A place of soft blue light.

All the world places shallow dreams there,

Jokes and screaming and the great salty mind of Humanity,

Raw and yet guarded,

A cesspool full of kittens,

Dreams of the stars spun around dreams of Armageddon.

Then there is this soft place,

An old green garden,

A place where dreams are pinned to the walls,

And our ghosts speak plainly to us,

Everything they ever said at our fingertips.

If I am so driven to pour pieces of my soul into the aether,

I feel that this is a better way.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford

(C) 10/06/2016

--
Compassion is the greatest sign of Humanity.

She Speaks Yinglish, He Speaks Yanglish...

She Speaks Yinglish, He Speaks Yanglish...

A wise man once sang that love is all you need,
A lot of it indeed.

Did I ever tell you I worked for a communications company?

Twenty-one point five years in fact,
Connecting all corners of the globe,
Data and voice as far as Antarctica,
As near as down the street.

I wonder how many trillion words are spoken each year,
Trying to get across the great divide?

"Turn left, turn right, do the dishes tonight."

To quote the fabulous Joan Jett,
"Do you wanna touch,
Do you wanna touch,
Do you wanna touch me there,
Where,
There,
Yeah?"

Exactly where that center in the male/female brain is,
The one that gets the exact image and emotion I mean,
To be recognized and understood.

Twenty minutes is forever,
Only to find you've both said the same thing,
All unknowingly.

Thankfully we have a lotta love,
To make things turn out right.

"No, go left here!!"

AquarianM

(C) 09/28/2016
By: Daniel A. Stafford