Complexity Poems

Some say less is really more, or is it more is really less. I believe both to be true. The future screams towards us faster every day. The pace and complexity of life quickens. Technology more pervasive. The human psyche

” If you wish to make an apple pie from scratch, you must first create the universe.” —Carl Sagan It’s all in there, waiting, just waiting in the time before time, the universe, our universe, packed unimaginably tight, indistinguishably tight,

A man’s choice for imperfect specialty Devoid a woman’s continued quest for security Likewise the two waters in diversity. He believes compromise leads to serenity To the long-haired nothing but a fallacy Then why do the waters co-exist in harmony?

I, the most perfect syllable in the world. It encapsulates me and all that is mine And all that I perceive or have perceived, All that I encountered or experienced, the Totality of my existence and its meaning To me

Will the Twenty First Century be the end for Homo Sapiens? Can human minds and psyches stand up to the speed of change being metered out? Today, we make more decisions in a day than were made one hundred years

How I chose to live my life. I’m wired at birth, my personality in place. I’m sculpted as a youth my environment had its say. The combination of both molded me as artists molds clay. With all this in place

We live in a universe of subatomic particles, the building blocks of everything else. All we can see and touch is made up of the stuff. Even in the seemingly empty void of space science tells us virtual particles pop

I watch the world go by, From my position at its periphery, I ask each day, For a sign, a message, Something to turn the senseless into the meaningful. My thoughts turn inward, My being aches with the pain of

Where do they come from? The brain is complex, of that there’s no doubt. Neurons, synapses, dendrites and axions, all woven together to make up our brain Somehow, from this complex mess we emerge, our consciousness our mind, all this

What does it look like? What does it sound like? How does it read? Is there beauty in mathematics? Are physics formulations beautiful? Is artistic beauty in all its forms discovered or created? Did Newton invent his mathematics or did

They too are living beings …. We snatch their lives , Even when they are the reason we are alive . They control evry kind of pollution , But we cut them instead of finding a new solution . They

Whom should I believe in this life? For me, life itself is a betrayal Whom should I help? I am also helpless Whom should I give love I also need love Whom should I blame for anything? Blaming can not

You built me up, favored by your light’s glow, To bask thereat, as world lies at my feet, I half believe my luck, the times that flow, Still sweet, even through nights of hale and sleet; Your tender touch, soft

Every moment that I spent with you How much was delightful How exciting and delectable it was But it is the reflection of the past now I passed every moment with you until tomorrow Now are the remnants of memories

Cancer woke up, The passionate wanderer, One with nature’s beauty, From a well of silence. It whispered to me, The value of time, To an awakening of, Embracing every season. In an endless sea, Of eternal harmony, To gather my

Sit there, arms folded about your knees Sit there and sulk And still you are beautiful even when your mood Settles on your face like bad makeup Your glances dance with the fire of your anger And your tongue spews

hide me in these walls… shield me even, try your best to cloak me from it.. but it won’t work. death is coming. death is coming at a pace we do not know…whether slowly or quickly it will reach its

My useless body, looks outside the window. Sees the pleasant nature, comes a wish to run across the velvet grass. The lovely rain makes me jealous, of children splashing in the puddles. Once I want to wander, explore the fragrant

I had always wondered why the sun rose in a distance and pondered if I will ever have a son I always stood far away wishing I was closer, not just a poser, why I chased and wanted a girl

Some of us have it Most of us Wish we could just touch It for a second But few have any idea what it really Is or even how It’s formed that pulse You feel when want or desire so

Is there only black and white? Who knows? Is there only darkness or light? Who knows! Who knows! Where are the shades of grey? Who knows? Where are the words I wanted to say? Who knows! Who knows! Is there

Percy the Penguin lived at the South Pole. With many good friends he would laugh and cajole. They would slip and slide and play in the snow, laughing and shouting and running to and fro. Percy was a happy lad

The ghosts of winters past plague my mind with a blissful memory of the first coquettish look and the first breath of her omniscient essence The failure of one’s duty by thine own hand is the blade that cuts the

And when we walk into the twilight gold, if we do I’ll tell you tales of battles lost and won In hospital corridors. Of teeth chattering grit And diligent fear, That rises like seawater From toenails. And when I talk

Best friends are angels sent from above, They deserve every bit of your true love. This relationship is beautiful and wise, Rendering to life a spirit that never dies. What will happen in the end? To a life that has

I know this isn’t the answer, But hell it’s a good option. They call me a coward, But they know nothing. My life being suffocated, But it’s my own hands, My own hands are choking me. Oh why am I

Thoughts have a mind of their own they bring to me a rainbow of emotions each hue darker than the other each hue engulfing me in its eternity and I keep floating through them if only it was all real

Do not talk of unhealing wounds, talk of the weapons. Talk of the hands which used the arms and talk of the brain which pressed the trigger. Violence was primitive but the cruel eyes had a new glint, At night

Fragrances of honeysuckle in the air and everywhere from a mountain top somewhere well he reigns as king having the fire inside… bold and courageous he is like thunder and lightning from the sky Supreme commander of the Cosmos and

One day you’ll only regret The people you never spoke with and met The places you never went And things you never did Then you’ll regret how much the fear controlled your actions What if, the constant question asked What

Standing in a field, Just feeling cool. My mind settles down like a glass of water. See a clear sky, blue above me. A sound I heard like a voice of an angel. It waves into my ears. Looking into

Back in those old days, a wife awaits her husband on a stormy night, hoping for his safe return. .. Waiting for her love, an enigmatic sailor. In vain gowns and a luscious healthy pallor! The porch, radiant in jewels

I love her hair, And that skin, so fair… I am enamoured by Her Voice, And those divine eyes…. I am consumed by Her smile, And that inimitable style… I am smitten with Her walk, And the way she talks…

(for the Painter Girl) we fight the hatreds of the world not with new hatreds, but with beauty, come each erotic kiss each moment of passion we share tilts the global balance, love me with urgency and desperation and we

Spinning someplace in the blackness of space, A peculiar world hosts an unhuman race. Rethink reality, abandon earthly notions; Here, cerulean seas – There, prismatic oceans. Macro quantum motion; Instantaneous locomotion – No need for roads, Teleport to go; No

A 21st century apostle strove to ease our appalling quandary ameliorating the sensation sans being caught between the devil and the dark blue sea, This tethered to the oblate spheroid earthling doth strive toward savoir-faire re: As the fickle finger

The night that breeds dark clouds of rankling dolour Within azure sky of my mind’s great earth, Delusive affection of thine enlivened fervour, Of joy of life and lustre triggers dearth. Thou rememb’rest those fragrant ways trodden, Back i’th’ longest

“Man is born free. But, Everywhere He is in chains.” Woman, is never born! Birth is life… She is only gifted, with a pair of machines… We call those machines ‘Eyes’ on a man’s face! Unbreakable, indestructible Chains are made

Cold night, shimmery light, A white lie to the white knight, Broken heart waving good bye, Shadows in the blue moon night. Melancholy in the milieu, And heart beats are drums in the air. In the deep dark night with

On the Eastern horizon, a deep gray cloud appears, in the shape of a graceful swan. A slivered harvest gold new moon is playing peek-a-boo High, prevailing air currents keep “Swan Cloud” slowly moving across the star studded sky-line. “New