Title: ⚡PDF ❤ Constellations: Poems From My Universe
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2Constellations Poems From My Universe
3Constellations Poems From My Universe
Sinopsis
Richard Fireman believes a good poem should
reflect both individual and universal perspectives
, and strives to do so in his work, expressing
his thoughts and feelings about both the
microcosm of his life's experiences and the
macrocosm of the universe at large. Each of his
poems are constellations in the sky of his life,
presented to the reader for interpretation and
meaning. Here is the world as I see it, he says
this is how it seems to me. We are all in the
same world, looking up at the stars, and this is
my viewpoint, one man in the vast unknowable
universe.Constellations are our attempt to make
sense of the universe.We create patterns in the
sky, trying to understand what God might mean,and
write our stories as if we knew.These poems are
my constellations. The words are stars.May their
light be a guide to find your way
home.ScapeAncestors called them
constellations,populated the heavens with
stories,made the giant wheel turnto human
rhythms, pushedthe wheel turning nightto day
turning lifeto tales of gods and men and women
turninginto gods, conquering monsters as we
conquerthe turning of time, guidingthe wheel with
imagination's surging push,through any black
hole yet unthought-of,past any edge at the end of
any world.New Worlds Need NamesThis time it was
all going wellbut as we watched the TVshe said
it's going too well,something's going to
happen.At the end of the show I got ready to
leaveand she asked me to take her home.She was
home. She didn't knowlike she didn't know I came
to see her each weekor what a galaxy wasor how to
tear a tissue.She couldn't
4understand how I knew she'd be there,how I'd know
what planet to point the ship at.As I write this
I hear on the newswe sent up a rocket to catch a
piece of a comet.On the way home on the radio is
a storyof snow falling on the living and
dead.Outside the car freezing rain is
falling.Last week my mother said Pop is comingbut
didn't know whose or the difference.In the old
days they were wise to make constellationswhen
they didn't know where they were heading,to
recognize what was too far away.
5Bestselling new book releases
Constellations Poems From My Universe
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7COPY LINK TO DOWNLOAD AND GET ABOOK copy link in
description
8Constellations
Poems
From
My
Universe
copy link in description
Richard Fireman believes a good poem
should reflect both
individual and universal
perspectives, and strives to do so in his work,
expressing his thoughts and feelings about
9both the microcosm of his life's experiences and
the macrocosm of the universe at large. Each of
his poems are constellations in the sky of his
life, presented to the reader for interpretation
and meaning. Here is the world as I see it, he
says this is how it seems to me. We are all in
the same world, looking up at the stars, and this
is my viewpoint, one man in the vast unknowable
universe.Constellations are our attempt to make
sense of the universe.We create patterns in the
sky, trying to understand what God might mean,and
write our stories as if we knew.These poems are
my constellations. The words are stars.May their
light be a guide to find your way
home.ScapeAncestors called them
constellations,populated the heavens with
stories,made the giant wheel turnto human
rhythms, pushedthe wheel turning nightto day
turning lifeto tales of gods and men and women
turninginto gods, conquering monsters as we
conquerthe turning of time, guidingthe wheel with
imagination's surging push,through any black
hole yet unthought-of,past any edge at the end of
any world.New Worlds Need NamesThis time it was
all going wellbut as we watched the TVshe said
it's going too well,something's going to
happen.At the end of the show I got ready to
leaveand she asked me to take her home.She was
home. She didn't knowlike she didn't know I came
to see her each weekor what a galaxy wasor how to
tear a tissue.She couldn't understand how I knew
she'd be there,how I'd know what planet to point
the ship at.As I write this I hear on the newswe
sent up a rocket to catch a piece of a comet.On
the way home on the radio is a storyof snow
falling on the living and dead.Outside the car
freezing rain is falling.Last week my mother
said Pop is comingbut didn't know whose or the
difference.In the old days they were wise to
make constellationswhen they didn't know where
they were heading,to recognize what was too far
away.