Human Distance
1
Apart from edges, and into deeper darkness,
our scars crawl, remaining aloof.
2
Open windows frame the ache in motion, the
displaced notes between two wavering spaces.
3
Absent light, absent voice. What is the longitude of
grace? Consider errors and their remnants.
4
Navigators measured lunar distance and the height
of two bodies to determine Greenwich time.
5
I study the passing cloud
and its descent, noting the nature of condensation.
6
Desire: the fragmented night and its circumstance.
7
Heavenly form. The moon’s dull glow.
Acquiescence before the body’s silt.
8
Interstellar matter become dust, become
gas, become molecule.
9
Human distance registers no scale.
Great photos. What is that device with the places listed? Is it at Greenwich?
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I haven’t a clue what it is, but it’s at Greenwich Royal Observatory.
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Something to do with the prime meridian, no doubt. I like the hourglass in the other picture, too. Very beautiful.
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Morguefile.com seldom fails me!
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Ah, lovely.
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Thanks, Emily.
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Even a distance of no distance at all can separate us from realizing our needs, when they differ from the needs of others.
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And when you add wants to the equation, the gap can widen drastically.
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Indeed.
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Love the poem and These photos are gorgeous.
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Thanks, Leslie. Wish I had taken the photos. Or that I could.
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Well, that would make you super-hyper-mega talented instead of just hyper-mega talented.
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Ha! My photos more closely resemble stick-figure drawings. And bad ones at that!
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Each photo gets better and better. They make me want to be inside them.
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Thank you, J.
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Another really great one! Nice work Okaji-sama!
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Thank you, Daniel!
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Yes, the Human Distance is variable, for sure! I think there is a way to crawl out of that deep darkness: I’ve been heading in the general direction of time, leaving an ever-widening wake behind me… In any case, if grace is the destination, the journey is the arrival. 🙂
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The journey is certainly what matters most to me.
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Pingback: Sh*t, Robert, You’ve Done it Again « buildingapoem
Such precision. And hot damn, #6!
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Thanks, C. Precision in ambiguity. Just about sums up my life. 🙂
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I love your use of words Robert, some poems jar and stutter on my inner ear but yours flow. Nice. But this is one to re-read, in order for me to try and grasp.
The object is a sculpture to enhance the meridian line. I’ve stood there many times as it’s a beautiful walk up the hill through Greenwich park with stunning views over London.
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Thank you, Tony. Then Linnet was correct. I knew only where the object was located, but it looked perfect for the poem.
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Yes, looks good. I would guess it’s a sail (I see you have a seafaring past?) on a mast and ships wheel has inspired it. Greenwich was of utmost importance to mariners and there’s a museum there to the competition, with prize, for the first person to solve the problem of establishing longitude.
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I imagined it as some sort of navigation tool, perhaps an odd sextant. I was in the U.S. Navy for a short while, and many years ago took a course in navigation, which I would find even more fascinating today.
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Masterful
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Thank you, Al. Much appreciated.
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Overall just great
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You are very kind. Thank you.
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Thank you! Enjoy your posts
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4! Felt inspired to try a couple of my own. They might sound gibberish…
—
If two people stand light years apart, and one of them travels toward the other at the rate that their hearts depart (repel), then maybe through perversion of the time warp, the odds will be even.
—
I had been a stone
.
I had been a worm. I had been a raindrop, looking down the world.
Not even lifetimes
of reincarnation will take me to your abode.
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Don’t stop now. Keep going!
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I wish I had the aforementioned distance when I’m working on WP.
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By that I meant, work day tomorrow…
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Ah, I understand. A little space, a little time…
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“our scars crawl, remaining aloof” How true, and disturbing. Beautiful poem. Distance is fascinating.
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Thank you. Distance, and the measuring of it, actual and metaphorical, fascinates me.
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Reblogged this on "Teacher, me okay!" and commented:
If there is anything I were to complain about inspiration, it’d be that this rascal always wants to party when a workday awaits a few hours later. Drunken in half slumber, now is also one of my bravest moments as I dare to venture into something I’d never think of when I’m sober—poetry.
A couple of my takes:
If two people stand light years apart, and one of them travels toward the other at the rate that their hearts depart (repel), then maybe through perversion of the time warp, the odds will be even.
—
I had been a stone
.
I had been a worm. I had been a raindrop, looking down the world.
Not even lifetimes
of reincarnation will take me to your abode.
—
I wish I had the aforementioned distance when I’m on WP. I could hear the footsteps of kids marching toward this very moment. Human distance, it’s all I want when inspiration hollers.
Onto my wish…
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Thank you for reblogging! And I hope you will venture more often into poetry. Good work!
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I love this!
Happy almost 4th of July, Bob!
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And now, magically, it is the 4th. Thank you!
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This poem made me realize just how much weight space has. Your writing is always so powerful, yet somehow so gentle.
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It’s large and small, heavy and light, near and far, depending upon how you use and perceive it. And thank you for your generous comments!
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