Superpowers 101

Definitions of self are elusive at best,

Perceptions formed through actions

or reactions

or inactions

that surprise.

The lies we perceive

others tell to deceive

us are just

versions of verisimilitude unverifiable

by outside sources but

of course, we get all uppity, huffing,

“Just who does he/she think they are,

you can’t pull the wool down quite that far,

I’m not as green as I am cabbage looking!”

Putting ourselves on some pedestal,

as if our version is more credible

because that was our experience, so it must be right.

Descartes said: “I think therefore I am”

Expanding this, I plan

to define my existence through my opinions.

But what of utter indifference?

If we define ourselves through preferences

we have handy little references

to remind us of who we think we are.

Like, a car; a phone; a polyphonic ring tone – ironically.

And maybe, just maybe the Old Ones knew

of the selfie-and cctv-sodden future, too.

The act of watching a thing changes the thing being watched.

That’s a law of physics, that- I didn’t make it up.

But the point is, introspection, narcissism and the rest

of the behaviors oft’encouraged by the media of the West –

Are they changing us?

Thrusting flashes in faces starts

 a chain reaction

on a microbial scale.

Colloquially named

Quantum Manipulation

it has a solemn application

in your everyday details.

But the question we want answered

is “can this power be harnessed

so we might direct our dances

and our version might prevail?”

With glee, it falls to me to be your Miyagi-San.

You can, and will master this.

The power’s in your hands.

All you need to do is believe what you perceive,

but to be aware and selective about your perceptions.

I don’t mean kidding yourself, this has to be done with conviction.

If faith can move mountains, against microbes you’ve surely a lever?

After all, what do you call a God without a believer?

Perceptions of self and the resulting definitions

are malleable at will. This has far reaching repercussions.

For if “Mans’ greatness comes from knowing he is wretched”

surely we can know we are wonderful, instead?

With great joy I brought to mind my philosophy tutor at University. I hope he is wonderfully well. Sadly, we've lost touch. Paul, if you read this, Hey! Xxxx

Perseid Nights

The gift of a science celestial.

It’s the atmosphere’s firework festival.

The night is a warm one, breath-catchingly clear

with the galaxy’s profile an ethereal smear.

Cricked necks and curses at errant headlights

as space detritus burns up in the heights.

But,

beware, beware

adoringly gawping,

star-strickenly fawning

ignoring the floor

and where you’re walking

‘cause you’re outside, right?

And on these humid Summer nights

your every step is beset by

slugs.

These slithy gherkins

lurking; determinedly

mucously marking their paths

Those hobos hopefully hunting

sustenance

by the garden fence

are often tragically reduced

to a smear

less ethereal and more entrails.

When we noticed all our potential victims

of heavy footed murder, we picked, toe-tipping

across the pitch-dark path, therein

turning eyes to earth and star-sights missing.

It occurred to me the verse of learning is hidden in everyday things.

For if we live for the spectacular

we risk that sickening crack you hear

when crushing Sluggy’s cousin

to oblivious oblivion.

Similarly,

if we diligently

avoid this genocidal killing spree

we miss all the good stuff.

With eyes for the earth

and cricked necks and curses at the errant soles’ hurt.

There must be equilibrium.

At the hem of the horizon

the cleaving beam of the valiant beacon,

halfway between there and back again.

This suffocating compromise blinds us

to both wonder and loss.

When faced with this decision

I find I’d rather play

a game of sluggish hopscotch

and watch meteors when I may.

I’ll give you back your even keel,

your solid, dependable lighthouse deal

I’ll reel

with my nadirs and zeniths instead.

For as long as I’m feeling

I know I’m not dead.