Poems 1959-2009

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Poems 1959-2009 Page 11

by Frederick Seidel


  Their eyes are pure

  Fame and purity.

  This was just an idea.

  It came from thinking about the star.

  I don’t know its name.

  It is very far away.

  What does it say?

  I was walking down by the water.

  The night was warm,

  The smell of spring.

  In outer space the cold

  Is fertile and freezes anything clean.

  The star has the face

  Of a flower.

  It is burning and freezing

  Immensity.

  It has the power

  To say a name.

  When you look out the specially reinforced viewhole

  Of the spaceship at the universe,

  You are glancing down at the top

  Of a tee as you prop a golf ball there

  For the drive.

  You look off in the distance toward the flag.

  The black velvet lining of the box

  That holds the stars is soft.

  I let the dogs off the leash

  And let them run and I pray.

  15. SPECIAL RELATIVITY

  I am pushing the hidden

  Pedals of my little car

  To get somewhere I have

  To get to.

  The stars are everywhere, like tourists

  At cherry blossom time.

  A mist of cosmic dust

  Drifts by for years.

  Little Red Car to Earth:

  I am up here. It’s fun.

  I’m doing all the things.

  I’m signing off now to pedal.

  The little boy pedaled

  Through space in his car.

  The birch canoe paddled

  To avoid the black hole.

  The stars stared,

  Not being cool,

  And stalked the celebrity cherry

  Blossoms for an autograph.

  And the very latest,

  And the weather forecast,

  And the Weather Channel,

  And motorcycles are dangerous.

  I was furiously pumping

  The pedals of my little car

  To get somewhere I had

  To get to.

  By the laws of special relativity,

  I began to wrinkle and bend.

  The universe has no end,

  But I am getting there.

  16. TAKE ME TO INFINITY

  We are completely

  In the dark with our eyes.

  We listen with the radio

  Telescope to the noise.

  We repair the Hubble

  Telescope in place in space because they hiss

  It is head and shoulders above a 200-inch dish

  On a mountaintop—but really

  Astronomy is just like

  Playing in the bath with a rubber duck

  And looking at the universe all

  At once and

  We know so much nothing,

  Why not know some more?

  I say to the people

  Of the United States,

  Enough time has passed.

  I say to the people of the world,

  The time has come

  And gone and now.

  How did the universe begin?

  I will count to ten.

  How will it end?

  I had the most amazing dream.

  You were on all fours like a dog

  And I was walking you

  Around—

  And you were me!

  And I was reading me the riot act

  Because I don’t make sense.

  Both of me say: Take me to infinity!

  Take me to before the universe!

  17. POEM

  Her hobby is laughter.

  She plays the musical saw.

  Her bunk is aft.

  It’s her turn to sleep.

  Mission Control is working feverishly

  Through the night

  To solve the problem and needs her

  Awake.

  The international space crew

  Floats in the dark

  Composing final thoughts

  And smelling the smoke.

  She is the most popular

  Mission Commander

  In the history of the Shakespeare program ever—

  Brave, Chinese, and brilliantly alive.

  She is a wife and mother

  And Girl Scout leader.

  Suddenly the ship shakes violently.

  Something has exploded.

  Shakespeare 5 has been sent up

  With all the world’s hopes. One

  Last chance to deflect the asteroid.

  This is Mission Control. We’re not reading you, Shakespeare. Over.

  She wakes up in her crib

  And is covered with moonlight.

  She hears the nearby murmur

  Of voices

  Which must be the TV

  One billion human beings

  Are watching.

  Someone softly covers her with her blanket.

  18. SUPERSYMMETRY

  You step into the elevator

  To go down and it goes up,

  And the surprise

  Of the sensation of sudden

  Happiness is weightless.

  So is love.

  The chemistry of intergalactic

  Space is scarcely human,

  But on the other hand we

  Are all related.

  So is love.

  Einstein bicycled right here, didn’t he?

  The guru Edward Witten, talking

  Along the same Princeton streets many years after

  And into the grounds of the Institute

  For Advanced Study, is not lost.

  He zooms to a blackboard

  Of equations about

  The quantum mechanics

  Of the central thing when it is raining outside.

  He titters behind

  The flutter of a geisha fan,

  In heavy makeup, left, right, male, female,

  Kabuki, kooky.

  Over the ocean in France, the platinum meter stick

  Under a glass bell is rational,

  And meaningless,

  And dissolving.

  But Witten grasps it cheerily in one hand

  And the geisha fan in the other,

  Like the pots of gold at the ends of the rainbow

  In the rain.

  19. EVERYTHING

  And they overwhelm you and force

  You to stay still till it is over.

  Movies do.

  I like the speed of light.

  I like the speed

  And the incomparably blurred

  Sensation of being deformed

  Into being and about to begin.

  The starter is the inexhaustible

  Appetite of the non-living

  Miracle to grow a universe, so to speak,

  So many digits

  Every blink,

  Tick tick tick tick

  From the beginning.

  I unlock the steamer trunk

  From the days when they used to

  Travel with steamer trunks. I lift the lid and inside

  Find the original blast of spacetime

  Growing outward toward a distant shore.

  The stars are singing to the stars

  In there, stars to stars.

  It isn’t over

  When the galaxies cluster

  And the audience is crying

  And you are.

  It overwhelms you and forces

  You to stay till it is over.

  The same poem over and over

  You are witnessing, the swelling of the universe

  Into the rose

  Which it will give.

  20. HAPPINESS

  It isn’t every day, but most,

  That one inflicts this on oneself.

  It is intole
rable.

  Such universality

  Means there is no other place

  So one must do it here, do

  And be, and feel the joy

  Most days bring.

  We have scars

  On our imagination that come from

  Joy. I mean, the woman has

  A huge star sapphire buried

  In the middle of her forehead, yes?

  And that is good.

  And the universe she sits

  On is.

  Her third eye is.

  However, it bleeds.

  The universe is in a skillet

  Cooking into something yum.

  I say

  Cimabue painted her without the sapphire

  Holding the infant Jesus.

  The dervish dancers swirl

  In their white robes which whirl the stars

  Into galaxies and the galaxies

  Into cheese. The blue shoe is the Earth

  Seen from space,

  And its blade twirls on the ice of the skating rink

  In the dark. There is no point

  In trying to think about this

  Bliss.

  21. THE ELEVEN DIMENSIONS

  The images received are

  One light-year old.

  That has been confirmed.

  On the monitor is

  A wide boulevard of black

  Lacquer in a capital.

  A faint fuzz

  Of spring blur coats the trees.

  The headlights on in the rain must be

  Their eyes.

  The trees are the dogs

  We know so little about

  That they walked.

  We have no idea what

  Language they used

  And did they use their mouths to excrete

  What then was

  Capitalized

  To produce the malt

  Which reproduced the songs?

  They knew there were

  More than three dimensions

  To their wives.

  Every year they called it spring.

  They practiced herd individualism

  And ran alone together.

  Every headlight drank an evening cocktail

  And didn’t drive.

  They knew there were

  Eleven dimensions,

  Which they didn’t know

  Were about to begin.

  22. THE ROYAL PALM

  The tiny octopus

  Of galaxies and dust is

  The universe taking up

  Space.

  The octopus also is

  The black space around itself

  Its octopus ink

  Clones in clouds.

  Its round human eye is looking

  Out at nothing.

  Its eight tentacles

  Are fingering ink-jet spacetime.

  It squirts the self

  Around itself it floats in.

  It opens its eight arms wide.

  It opens its eye and mouth and suckers wide.

  It is an eight-armed dome and does.

  It is the universe and is.

  It is the royal palm

  Of consciousness slightly swaying above the beach.

  Angels are swimming

  In the sea.

  Manta rays ripple by

  Nearby.

  The interstellar dust

  Keeps incubating life.

  The oral

  Sharks are always having fun.

  One tank at the aquarium

  Of nothingness

  Contains all this

  Zest.

  23. FAINT GALAXY

  I come from

  Far away from you

  And that is

  Far away.

  Hundreds of

  Millions of stars in a

  Galaxy and billions of galaxies and one

  Billions of light-years away.

  I came from

  Far away from you

  And that was

  Far away.

  My news is billions

  Of light-years ago. When

  I started to come toward

  You.

  And somewhere

  Along the way. I

  Forget

  What I was going to say.

  I came from

  Far away from you and

  That is far

  Away.

  The light

  That reaches you now

  Is I

  Began far off.

  That touches your eyes.

  That enters your thought.

  From afar.

  From the start.

  24. EDWARD WITTEN

  Witten is designing

  A baby’s bib

  With a little red

  Sea horse raised

  Embroidered emblem. Now

  When baby spits out the baby food paste

  The universe is spooning into her face

  A little red sea horse will catch it.

  A little red

  Sea horse is eleven-dimensional

  Spacetime. It unicycles

  Upright in space

  In all directions

  At once.

  A little thread sea horse

  Is deaf,

  Blind, can’t smell,

  Has no voice.

  The universe

  Is also raised

  On a background of something else,

  And the something else

  Is there to catch something

  Else.

  It will catch hell

  For the unfathomable inhuman

  Daring of the theory

  The heroic Edward Witten

  At the Institute for Advanced Study

  Has put forward in the Theory of Everything

  To the effect

  That we spill.

  25. THE BIRTH OF THE UNIVERSE

  The perfect petals

  Of the rose

  Of time, of all three

  Angels that prepare for this,

  Of everything the blue

  Warm water does

  To magnify the August hour,

  The perfect

  Thunder mint

  Between the thumb and finger

  Makes, or the large smell of rain before it rains,

  Grow from several storm cells

  Violently,

  While the hour

  Hand sweeps as if it were barking seconds

  And the day stands still,

  In perfect bloom,

  And so the universe

  Was just conceived,

  And just arrives,

  And jets a rising fountain

  Lit with many lights

  And colors,

  And a rushing sound,

  And it is night,

  And it is air,

  And the ice cream is infinite

  Above the cone

  The small hand holds

  Dripping, holds the torch

  Of everything

  Is good.

  26. STARLIGHT

  To return to the impossible

  Is to be happy in the future

  With what after all was the start

  And continues to produce.

  You know what that means?

  It means you are in love.

  It means to live your life

  You have to.

  The universe is ourself

  Moving in sleep

  Very slowly or in sudden

  Seizures toward eternal life.

  The universe is a single organism

  Made of two

  Or more individual,

  Or many more than two, individual

  Moving parts and blitzkrampf,

  Explosive but balletic slow-mo

  Of vast organs

  Of ecstasy making sounds

  The radio telescopes will hear

  Billions of light-years from now,

 
The way whales croon

  Whalesong through the ocean microphone

  To an audience in darkness far away.

  To live your life

  You have to use it up.

  A star performs its nuclear core.

  Beautiful Kate Valk of the Wooster Group

  Of actors does the male title role in The Emperor Jones

  In blackface till she is so much

  Starlight she stops.

  27. QUANTUM MECHANICS

  It is raining on one side

  Of the street and

  A mother on the other.

  Boy, it’s hot!

  Incandescence not making sense,

  The ultimate

  The weather will

  Allow.

  Of the energy

  Of a supernova the

  Undertow

  Collapses to,

  It has been said

  There is no way to

  Express the utterly

  Unlighted

  Out the other side.

  It can appear out of nowhere

  Outside your own front door.

  Knock, knock.

  Come in. It’s open.

  Delivery!

  Come in, it’s open.

  Fifteen billion light-years is fast food

  To the divine quantum equations

  It is delivered to—

  Which eat the delivery boy,

  According to Heisenberg.

  They have charm

  And quark and spin.

  They work both sides of the street.

  They give good infinity.

  28. IT IS THE MORNING OF THE UNIVERSE

  It is the morning of the universe:

  Black children on their way to school to read.

  The storefront metal gates on rollers rise

  And all the shops are open now for praise.

  It’s hard to bear the beauty.

  The traffic is sweet this early.

  The old are up and listen,

  Though the ones who don’t get up don’t listen.

  Even in a universe this young

  Things ask why

  Enormous stars blow up

  And more stars are born.

  Born to burn,

  They start to cry.

  The young stars burn and shine.

  That’s the law.

  As for the mania of being always

  On,

  It consumes the nuclear core

  And beams truth through space

  As deeply as a child reads his first real book.

  When they assemble the biggest telescope ever

  On the far side of the skin,

  They will be able to see

  A boy not moving his lips

  And a book being read,

  Free of the wobbles

  Of earth atmosphere distortion.

  Stars collide and explode

  And their young are born.

  The children arrive at school.

  A billion years go by.

 

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