The Sky is an Immortal Tent Built by the Sons of Los (from
The sky is an immortal tent built by the Sons of Los:
And every space that a man views around his dwelling-place
Standing on his own roof or in his garden on a mount
Of twenty-five cubits in height, such space is his universe:
And on its verge the sun rises and sets, the clouds bow
To meet the flat earth and the sea in such an order'd space:
The starry heavens reach no further, but here bend and set
On all sides, and the two Poles turn on their valves of gold:
And if he moves his dwelling-place, his heavens also move
Where'er he goes, and all his neighbourhood bewail his loss.
Such are the spaces called Earth and such its dimension.
As to that false appearance which appears to the reasoner
As of a globe rolling through voidness, it is a delusion of Ulro.
The microscope knows not of this nor the telescope: they alter
The ratio of the spectator's organs, but leave objects untouch'd.
For every space larger than a red globule of Man's blood
Is visionary, and is created by the Hammer of Los;
And every space smaller than a globule of Man's blood opens
Into Eternity of which this vegetable Earth is but a shadow.
The red globule is the unwearied sun by Los created
To measure time and space to mortal men every morning.
poem by William Blake
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Milton: The Sky is an Immortal Tent Built by the Sons of Los
The sky is an immortal tent built by the Sons of Los:
And every space that a man views around his dwelling-place
Standing on his own roof or in his garden on a mount
Of twenty-five cubits in height, such space is his universe:
And on its verge the sun rises and sets, the clouds bow
To meet the flat earth and the sea in such an order'd space:
The starry heavens reach no further, but here bend and set
On all sides, and the two Poles turn on their valves of gold:
And if he moves his dwelling-place, his heavens also move
Where'er he goes, and all his neighbourhood bewail his loss.
Such are the spaces called Earth and such its dimension.
As to that false appearance which appears to the reasoner
As of a globe rolling through voidness, it is a delusion of Ulro.
The microscope knows not of this nor the telescope: they alter
The ratio of the spectator's organs, but leave objects untouch'd.
For every space larger than a red globule of Man's blood
Is visionary, and is created by the Hammer of Los;
And every space smaller than a globule of Man's blood opens
Into Eternity of which this vegetable Earth is but a shadow.
The red globule is the unwearied sun by Los created
To measure time and space to mortal men every morning
poem by William Blake
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Book the First
Daughters of Beulah! Muses who inspire the Poet’s Song,
Record the journey of immortal Milton thro’ you Realms
Of terror & mild moony luster, in soft sexual delusions
Of varied beauty, to delight the wanderer and repose
His burning thirst & descending down the Nerves of my right arm
From out the Portals of my Brain, where by your ministry
The Eternal Great Humanity Divine planted his Paradise,
And in it caus’d the Spectres of the Dead to take sweet forms
In likeness of himself. Tell also of the False Tongue! vegetated
Beneath your land of shadows, of its sacrifices and
Its offerings, even till Jesus, the image of the Invisible God,
Became its prey – a curse, an offering and an atonement
For Death Eternal in the heavens of Albion, & before the Gates
Of Jerusalem his Emanation, in the heavens beneath Beulah.
Say first! what mov’d Milton, who walk’d about in Eternity
One hundred years, pond’ring the intricate mazes of Providence,
Unhappy tho’ in heav’n – he obey’d, he murmur’d not, he was silent
Viewing his Sixfold Emanation scatter’d thro’ the deep
In torment – To go into the deep, her to redeem & himself perish?
What cause at length mov’d Milton to this unexampled deed?
A Bard’s prophetic Song! for sitting at eternal tables,
Terrific among the Sons of Albion in chorus solemn & loud,
A Bard broke forth! all sat attentive to the awful man.
* * *
Then Milton rose up form the heavens of Albion ardorous.
The whole Assembly wept prophetic, seeing in Milton’s face
And in his lineaments divine the shades of Death & Ulro.
He took off the robe of the promise, & ungirded himself from the oath of God.
And Milton said: ‘I go to Eternal Death! The Nations still
Follow after the detestable Gods of Priam, in pomp
Of warlike selfhood, contradicting and blaspheming.
When will the Resurrection come to deliver the sleeping body
From corruptibility? O when, Lord Jesus, wilt thou come?
Tarry no longer, for my soul lies at the gates of death.
I will arise and look forth for the morning of the grave;
I will go down to the sepulcher to see if morning breaks;
I will go down to self annihilation and eternal death,
Lest the Last Judgment come & find me unannihilate,
And I be seiz’d & giv’n into the hands of my own Selfhood.
The Lamb of God is seen thro’ mists & shadows, hov’ring
Over the sepulchers in clouds of Jehovah & winds of Elohim,
A disk of blood, distant; & heav’ns & earths roll dark between.
What do I here before the Judgment? without my Emanation?
With the daughters of memory & not with the daughters of inspiration?
I in my Selfhood am that Satan; I am that Evil One!
He is my Spectre! In my obedience to loose him from my Hells,
To claim the Hells, my Furnaces, I go to Eternal Death.’
* * *
But Milton entering my Foot, I saw in the nether
Regions of the Imagination – also all men on Earth
And all in Heaven saw in the nether region of the Imagination
In Ulro beneath Beulah – the vast breach of Milton’s descent.
But I knew not that it was Milton, for man cannot know
What passes in his members till periods of Space & Time
Reveal the secrets of Eternity; for more extensive
Than any other earthly things are Man’s earthly lineaments.
And all this Vegetable World appear’d on my left Foot,
As a bright sandal from’d immortal of precious stones & gold:
I stooped down & bound it on to walk forward thro’ Eternity.
* * *
…what time I bound my sandals
On to walk forward thro’ Eternity, Los descended to me;
And Los behind me stood, a terrible flaming Sun, just close
Behind my back. I turned round in terror, and behold!
Los stood in that fierce glowing fire, & he also stoop’d down
And bound my sandals on in Udan-Adan. Trembling I stood
Exceedingly with fear & terror, standing in the Vale
Of Lambeth; but he kissed me, and wish’d me health,
And I became One Man with him arising in my strength.
‘Twas too late now to recede. Los had enter’d into my soul;
his terrors now posses’d me whole! I arose in fury & strength.
‘I am that Shadowy Prophet who Six Thousand Years ago
Fell from my station in the Eternal bosom. Six Thousand Years
Are finish’d. I return! both Time & Space obey my will.
I in Six Thousand Years walk up and down; for not one Moment
Of Time is lost, nor one Event of Space unpermanent,
But all remain; every fabric of Six Thousand Years
Remains permanent. Tho’ on the Earth where Satan
Fell and was cut off all things vanish & are seen no more,
They vanish not from me & mine; we guard them first & last.
The generations of men run on in the tide of Time,
But leave their destin’d lineaments permanent for ever & ever.’
* * *
Los is by mortals nam’d Time; Enitharmon is nam’d Space.
But they depict him bald & aged who is in eternal youth,
All powerful, and his locks flourish like the brows of morning.
He is the Spirit of Prophecy, the ever apparent Elias.
Time is the mercy of Eternity; without Time’s swiftness,
Which is the swiftest of all things, all were eternal torment.
All the Gods of the Kingdoms of Earth labour in Los’s Halls:
Every one is a fallen Son of the Spirit of Prophecy;
He is the Fourth Zoa, that stood around the Throne Divine.
* * *
Thou seest the Constellations in the deep & wondrous Night;
They rise in order and countinue their immortal courses
Upon the mountains & in vales, with harp & heavenly song,
With flute & clarion, with cups & measures fill’d with foaming wine.
Glitt’ring the streams reflect the Vision of beatitude,
And the calm Ocean joys beneath & smooths his awful waves.
These are the Sons of Los, & these the Labourers of the Vintage.
Thou seest the gorgeous clothed Flies that dance & sport in summer
Upon the sunny brooks & meadows; every one the dance
Knows in its intricate mazes of delight artful to weave,
Each one to sound his instruments of music in the dace,
To touch each other & recede, to cross & change & return.
These are the Children of Los. Thou seest the Trees on mountains;
The wind blows heavy, loud they thunder thro’ the darksome sky,
Uttering prophecies & speaking instructive words to the sons
Of men. These are the Sons of Los, these the Visions of Eternity;
But we see only as it were the hem of their garments
When with our vegetable eyes we view these wondrous Visions.
…
And every Generated Body in its inward form
Is a garden of delight & a building of magnificence,
Built by the Sons of Los in Bowlahoola & Allamanda;
And the herbs & flowers & furniture & beds &chambers
Continually woven in the Looms of Enitharmon’s Daughters,
In bright Cathedron’s golden Dome with care & love & tears.
For the various Classes of Men are all mark’d out determinate
In Bowlahoola, & as the Spectures choose their affinities
So they are born on Earth, & every Class is determinate;
But not by Natural, but by Spiritual power alone, because
The Natural power continually seeks & tends to Destruction,
Ending in Death, which would of itself be Eternal Death.
And all are Class’d by Spiritual & not by Natural power,
And every Neutral Effect has a Spiritual Cause, and Not
A Natural; for a natural Cause only seems: it is a Delusion
Of Ulro, & a ratio of the perishing Vegetable Memory.
* * *
But others of the Sons of Los build Moments & Minutes & Hours
And Days & Months & Years & Ages & Periods, wondrous buildings;
And every Moment has a Couch of gold for soft repose,
(A Moment equals a pulsation of the artery),
And between every two Moments stands a Daughter of Beulah
To feed the Sleepers on their Couches with maternal care.
And Every Minute has an azure Tent with silken Veils;
And Every Hour has a bright golden Gate carved with skill;
And every Day & Night has Walls of brass & Gates of adamant,
Shining like precious stones & ornamented with appropriate signs;
And every Month a silver paved Terrace builded high;
And every Year invulnerable Barriers wit high Towers;
And every Age is Moated deep with Bridges of silver & gold;
And every Seven Ages is Incircled with a Flaming Fire.
Now Seven Ages is amounting to Two Hundred Years:
Each has its Guard, each Moment, Minute, Hour, Day, Month & Year.
All are the work of Fairy hands of the Four Elements.
The Guard are Angels of Providence on duty evermore.
Every Time less than a pulsation of the artery
Is equal in its period & value to Six Thousand Years;
For in this Period the Poet’s work is Done, and all the Great
Events of Time start forth & are conciev’d in such a Period,
Within a Moment, a Pulsation of the Artery.
The Sky is an immortal Tent built by the Sons of Los;
And every Space that a Man views around his dwelling-place,
Standing on his own roof or in his garden on a mount
Of twenty-five cubits in height, such space is his Universe;
And on its verge to Sun rises & sets, the Clouds bow
To meet the flat Earth & the Sea I such an order’d Space.
The Starry heavens reach no further, but here bend and set
On all sides, & the two Poles turn on their valves of gold;
And if he move his dwelling-place, his heavens also move
Where’er he goes, & all his neighbourhood bewail his loss.
Such are the Spaces called Earth, &such its dimension.
As to that false appearance which appears to the reasoner,
As of a Globe rolling thro’ Voidness, it is a delusion of Ulro.
The Microscope knows not of this, nor the Telescope; they alter
The ration of the Spectator’s Organs, but leave Objects untouch’d.
For every Space larger than a red globule of Man’s blood
Is visionary, and is created by the Hammer of Los;
And every Space smaller than a Globule of Man’s blood opens
Into Eternity, of which this vegetable Earth is but a shadow.
The red Globule is the unwearied Sun by Los created
To measure Time and Space to mortal Men every morning.
Bowlahoola & Allamanda are placed on each side
Of that Pulsation & that Globule, terrible their power.
* * *
poem by William Blake from Milton (1810)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Primal Death
Space
Time
Space
Travel
Raining
Ai ming
Space
Time
Space
Expanding
Un iting
Increasing
Space
Time
Space
Sweeping
Restraining
Stretching
Space
Time
Space
Wrestling
Throwing
Throwi ng up
Space
Time
Space
Falling
Sinkin g
Overturning
Space
Time
Space
Whi rling
Space
Time
Space
Disturbing
Space
Time
Space
Whirring
Space
Ti me Space
Erring at
Nothing
poem by August Stramm
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Astronauts
couples on the verge of divorce
have become astronauts because they always say they need
space.
it matters, and matter is that
which occupies space and has weight.
i need space. i am gaining weight.
i am standing on a cliff, on the verge of an abyss
i am not afraid
i want to fall, because i am an astronaut too needing
space.
i miss the fun at the opening of your beehive.
sort of your art boutique
i did not forget it.
i need space.
i need space.you badly need more space.
tomorrow morning you will ask me
why did you write a sad poem last night?
and i too, now, needed more space
to lie,
i will ask you,
which one?
did i?
i cannot remember.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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0032From Shankara on the Chandogya Upanishad 8.1.1
Inside the body
is a little place.
you could say that
this is like a lotus
for it floats on the surface of the waters of life
and opens its petals to the heavens,
rejoicing to be alive.
or you could say that
it is like a house
for it is where you return for rest and re-creation
within the love of family,
within the safety of its walls.
or you could say that
it is like a city
for it has a palace and a treasury, and many officers
such as mind and intellect
to fulfil its needs.
yet within that little place,
a space,
as large as the universe itself.
we should know about that space.
within it are comprehended
the heavens and the earth;
the elements, sound, air, fire, light, water, all that’s underfoot
that arises from the earth, returns to dust;
whatever is, and what is not;
all in that little space
which because it is space
is unbounded.
it does not age with age,
with wrinkles nor gray hair, nor
with forgetful mind;
beyond all sorrows, since sorrow comes
from separation;
free to have desires,
since it satisfies all desires
and lives in its own satisfaction;
that satisfaction, they call bliss – what else?
you need not seek outside for this;
all this is in your heart.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Spaces
Space
No center, no above, no below
Ceaselessly devouring and engendering itself
Whirlpool space
And drop into height
Spaces
Clarities steeply cut
Suspended
By the night's flank
Black gardens of rock crystal
Flowering on a rod of smoke
White gardens exploding in the air
Space
One space opening up
Corolla
And dissolving
Space in space
All is nowhere
Place of impalpable nuptials
poem by Octavio Paz
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Following False Stars
there is a theory
that Satan created
mimic false space
dark creation
in cosmic region
around earth
a fallen counterfeit
deceptive space
of decoy illusions
heaven's real space
is where God's angels
still obey God's will.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Condensing Space
the universe is a garden
of gems, stars and planets
and a mental wonderland
if you love arithematics, theories
of compression and relativity
every place in space is just a few minutes away
as close as your own bedroom and the garden
there is space and they are meant for fun
and should be the least of any body's problem
they are pleasure to the space condenser
the three trillion trillion miles
well, they can be condensed into two three miles
remember the six inch of your mind
well it has in it all the space you would ever traverse
just cflose your eyes and see
the energies all over space can be harnessed
or deharnessed? ? ? to condense space,
so that you need just one minute to go to the
furthest reach of space
just close your eyes and there you would see
all the distance of the universes
condensed in a little box on your top
one day it will be as simple as that
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Move with time, awaiting a pleasant surprise in each of your position in space
Time is not what is shown in a clock
Time is not what the second hand passes
Time is not what the minute or hour hands show
Time is also not what our calendar indicate
Time is not the day, the week, the month or the year
Time is not sun rise or sun set
Time is not the morning, noon, afternoon, evening or even night
Time is indeed the point or location
You occupy in the space
Me, you and every one and every thing
On this surface of the earth
Are on a continuous move
As the earth rotates on its axis
And keeps moving around the sun
We all keep moving
And we do not know or even the clue to know
Whether we reach the same location in space again for a second time
It may look similar
But, it is all relative position with respect to the
Position of the other objects on the space
Duration for a thing to complete is thus
Is also not the time measures we employ
In absolute terms,
It is this the distance in space you traveled
Between the beginning and finishing of an event
It is also true you do not travel back as there is no reverse gear
In this universal path
Blame not your time, and
If anything to blame it is your position in the space
Since you are never stagnant
Your position will soon change
And things will soon be different and in your favor too sometimes
Move with time
Awaiting a pleasant surprise in each of your position in space
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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There Is No River
there is no river
anywhere here on earth
which will
not accommodate the
widest hulls
of our sails
there is no sea
so crowded with vessels
there is always
a space for
whales and
sharks
there is no space that
can't hold a spaceship
there is no cloud
that is ever overfilled
with rain
there is always a space
for us
always a corner to rest
there is always
a star for everyone
to name
to become even our
own
if privacy is a must
why quarrel? why do you
make war on
anybody?
at the tips of the poles
there is always
a resting place
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Scientific Facts Science Of Creation
Genesis constitutes a philosophical creation
storm such as never was or will be ever again
Genesis states core identities Genesis explains
all essence contains greatest promise ever made
Genesis declares God seeks intimacy is intimate
examine scientific facts Science of Creation
'In the beginning (time) God created the heavens
(space) and the earth (matter) ' meaning God
in very first verse of Genesis in the Bible states
God created time, space, matter! Great Scientists
Philosophers did seek over thousands of years
to discover prove basic conceptions of creation
components of or make up of the universe behold
twentieth century break through physicists state
physics proves our entire vast universe is founded
upon time space matter as proclaimed in Genesis
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Utter Space
I come from outer space at least I think I do
I need a change of pace thats why I walk with you
Its a change up-left-one-two
In outer space
Ive had a change of heart Im tired of being the best
I need another part to make an educated guess
And help me pass the test
In outer space
In outer space
In outer space
I come from outer space at least I think I do
I need another face I need one just like you
Its a change up-left-one-two
In outer space
In outer space
In outer space
The space
Outer space
The space
In outer space
song performed by by Men Without Hats
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Searching For Truth
Many men venture up into space, searching for that time and place,
Just where this earth had its start, while guided by wayward hearts.
They circle way above this world, looking for grand news to herald,
News that they can be assured, the earth started without The Lord.
The Lord above, they simply mock, as to the craft above they dock,
Suspended high above the earth, filled with a vain and empty mirth.
All the time they simply speculate, of man’s beginning and his fate.
But God is not mocked my friend, as they will all see come the end.
Men continue to blindly say, all came from the big bang in one day.
A foolish theory men do embrace, so they can worship outer space.
At times I wonder, how can it be, in that vastness they can not see,
That everything their eyes can see, was created by God of Eternity.
Although they suppress The Truth, they all shall be without excuse,
Because the vastness of creation, confirms all of God’s Revelation.
Above the circle of our little earth, sits The Creator of our universe.
As Creator, only He holds the key, to every man’s eternal destiny.
Their search for truth is misplaced, ignoring God’s awesome Grace,
Men need to look to The Creator, accepting Jesus Christ as Savior.
Then He who sits above the earth, will grant these men a new birth,
And they will receive eyes to see, that space is a curtain to Eternity.
-
One World (Not Three)
Everyone I know is lonely
And God is so far away,
And my heart belongs to no one,
So now sometimes I pray
Please take the space between us
And fill it up some way.
Take the space between us
And fill it up some way.
Oh my God you take the biscuit
Treating me this way
Expecting me to treat you well
No matter what you say.
How can I turn the other cheek
It's black and bruised and torn
I've been waiting
Since the day that I was born.
Take the space between us
And fill it up some way.
Take the space between us
And fill it up some way.
The fat man in his garden
The thin man at his gate
My God you must be sleeping
Wake up, it's much too late.
Take the space between us
And fill it up some way.
Take the space between us
And fill it up some way.
Do I have to tell the story
Of a thousand rainy days?
Since we first met,
It's a big enough umbrella
But it's always me that ends up getting wet.
song performed by by Police
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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O My God
Everyone I know is lonely
And gods so far away
And my heart belongs to no one
So now sometimes I pray
Please take this space between us
And fill it up some way
Take this space between us
And fill it up some way
O my God you take the biscuit
Treating me this way
Expecting me to treat you well
No matter what they say
How can I turn the other cheek
Its black and bruised and torn
Ive been waiting
Since the day that I was born
Take this space between us
And fill it up some way
Take this space between us
And fill it up some way
The fat man in his garden
The thin man at his gate
My God you must be sleeping
Wake up, its much too late
Take this space between us
And fill it up some way
Take this space between us
And fill it up some way
Do I have to tell the story
Of a thousand rainy days
Since we first met
Its a big enough umbrella
But its always me that ends up getting wet
song performed by by Police
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Scripture suggests that the elements in space were created for the benefit of earth, while evolution suggests that earth is an insignificant speck in vast space.
quote by Walter Lang
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There's the world by Mercy created
That thunders through the rain
To turn the houses into little dots of existence
That eat their own pictures within a space
The dropp is a vague silence
The space of a place all soaking wet
Washed in the rhythm
Within the word of wounds
Each whisper in Mercy remembers
Its soul's dwelling in blood
©Miroslava Odalovic
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Next Generation Space Telescope, which will be located much further away from the Earth than the Hubble Space Telescope presently is, will also explore the infrared part of the spectrum.
quote by Claude Nicollier
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Space
You entered my space
The space that was mine alone
It was my cocoon
I felt safe there.
Then you thundered in and somehow took over.
I treasured my space, it was only for me.
You came and shook my fragile walls, shattered my peace,
Disturbed my equilibrium.
Now my space isn't my space anymore.
But you gave me something that made my space obsolete,
You gave me your love.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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The Gathering
There was a gathering of time
in odd spaces.
There was a gathering of spaces
seeking my time, your time, our time.
There was a gathering of the Saving Graces
which bid us to lie down with peace
to bloom in time and space.
This was a gathering of hopes and dreams
in a space, in a time
with an individualized saving grace.
In gathering it seems-
if we come with only our individual sense
of time, space and grace-
we will have not gathered at all
and will have only succumbed to Sweet Ironic Irony.
'Place then' he said
'your eyes upon the Sun
and know that life is such that
sometimes you must be the moon.
'Place then' he said' your hand
knowing your space
sometimes
in life
must be our space or no space at all.'
'How' we all said
'is this trick to be done? '
He said 'no trick. It is the essence of all things
not only to change
but to be in essence
more than one thing;
even to be more than two
at the same time.'
'That is why' he said
uplifting his arm
'we can think two different,
even contradictory things
at the same time.
This is not artifact
but essence.
This is nature-
not mistake.
Who I am;
Who are we
is the same query
and the answer is for both:
both are we
and each is I
for all is multiples;
and Revelation;
there is no
Universal Rule
of Consistency;
we live in multiple multiplicities.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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