Scientific American

September 12, 2022 ~ Kenneth P. Gurney ~ Leave a comment

A photon circled Delphi’s head.
Skull encased brain displayed hydrogen’s atomic structure.

Due to its orbital speed
the photon appeared to be a halo.

This caused her gynecologist some reluctance
to give Delphi an exam.

She read an old Scientific American
with legs spread, feet inserted in the stirrups.

Her mind projected images of t-rex on the white walls
along with Mesozoic foliage.

The gynecologist never met the dinosaur’s gaze
afraid it would step off the wall.

The exam room warmed significantly
as a meteor entered the atmosphere igniting.

Remitted

February 9, 2020 ~ Kenneth P. Gurney ~ Leave a comment

My halo turned out to be a mirror.
It reflected sun and moonlight.
It reflected rich green grass
and you reclining at my feet.

This realization that my halo
glowed from without instead of within
caused me to doubt
an inner light.

My doubt dimmed my halo,
fogged the mirror.
My doubt shuttered my mental agility.
My doubt remitted my saintliness.

Special Effects

December 27, 2019 ~ Kenneth P. Gurney ~ 1 Comment

We were talking over coffee in a cafe.
We managed not to interrupt each other.
As the sky darkened behind Dora,
I noticed the halo about her head.
At first I thought it was a trick of the light.
Or my eyes gone misty.
When I reached forward to adjust Dora’s hair,
my fingers brightened perceptively.

The sharp withdrawal of my hand
prompted Dora’s queried gaze.
I reached out again, flicked a finger from thumb
to tap the halo like a cymbal.
Dora quivered.
A bass strum emanated from the halo
to rebound off the cafe’s walls.

Dora claimed she is no saint, no goddess.
She first noticed the halo in the mirror
the morning after she determined to own
all her actions, all her emotions,
all her consequences and the repercussions.

She confessed shortly thereafter
that she read superhero comics
and graphic novels,
but found no correlations.