Tuesday, March 18, 2014

When We Are Gone


When We Are Gone


by

Kenny A. Chaffin

All Rights Reserved © 2014 Kenny A. Chaffin
(from Prosthetic Amalgams)


           
            It starts with ants excavating the driveway, it will continue for years. They will bring their detritus up through the cracks. The winter snows will melt and seep into those cracks, freeze and force them open further. Water will gather, flow, settle, lift and shift sidewalk slabs. Tree roots will drill into foundations, vines into mortar and brick, climbing and covering. Wind-loosened shingles will lift and fall, lift and fall, ‘til they fall away for good. The sun will bake the asphalt shingles, the ice and rain will do their work, abrading and washing grit into the rain gutters and down onto that driveway.
            Manicured lawns will fade as native plants reclaim their territory. Manicured shrubberies will explode, twist and warp into their own shapes, their own selves. Flickers who have always drummed upon flues in search of mates will continue drumming on the rusting flues until those flues fall and can no longer be drummed upon. Woodpeckers will open the way; honeybees will follow taking purchase within walls protected from the elements. Rabbits and deer will return sheltering where we once were. In almost no time at all, life will return to normal.







About the Author

Kenny A. Chaffin writes poetry, fiction and nonfiction and has published poems and fiction in Vision Magazine, The Bay Review, Caney River Reader, WritersHood, Star*Line, MiPo, Melange and Ad Astra and has published nonfiction in The Writer, The Electron, Writers Journal and Today’s Family. He grew up in southern Oklahoma and now lives in Denver, CO where he works hard to make enough of a living to support two cats, numerous wild birds and a bevy of squirrels. His poetry collections No Longer Dressed in Black and The Poet of Utah Park  are available as ebooks at Amazon.com as well as How do we Know? a collection of science articles and essays. These and more are available at his Amazon.com author page: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B007S3SMY8


Thursday, January 30, 2014

What we did (poem)

What we did

Danielle died last night
we are all dying
dear God what do we do.

There is no food, no water
no water that is clean,
disease is rampant.

We ate grass yesterday
it only helped briefly to fill
our bellies and made us sick

There is only one way
if we are to survive
we thank you Danielle.




Kenny A. Chaffin – 1/29/2014

(This is from an in-progress project tentatively titled 'Fate')

Saturday, January 25, 2014

The Fabric of our Lives (poem)




The Fabric of our Lives


What if reality were like a fabric
woven together by laws of physics?

What if we happened across a loose stitch
and happened to give it a tug?

Would we learn, or would we lose?
Would it be the Big Bang Redux?



Kenny A. Chaffin – 1/15/2014
(From - The Joy of Science - Poems of Science and Speculation )

Tuesday, January 7, 2014

Borrowed Bones


 

Borrowed Bones


by

Kenny A. Chaffin

All Rights Reserved © 2013 Kenny A. Chaffin




A poet ought not to pick nature's pocket.
Let him borrow, and so borrow as to repay
by the very act of borrowing…and trust more
to the imagination than the memory.
-- Samuel Taylor Coleridge




You begin your existence as a single gelatinous cell deep in your mother’s body though you will have no understanding, no awareness of that existence for a number of years. That single cell from your mother along with a single strand of DNA from your father was assembled from proteins, nutrients and amino acids. Those things, like all things are made of atoms which have existed since their birth in the hearts of stars billions of years ago. Those atoms once brought into existence by those nuclear furnaces are extremely stable and extremely long-lived. Everything that we are and everything around us is made from those ancient atoms that are at billions of years old. The hydrogen in your body (mostly in molecular water) is as old as the universe itself having been formed shortly after the big bang. The other elements range from 7 – 12 billion years old and were created in first and second generation stars. First generation stars formed just after the birth of the universe 13.8 billion years ago. Second generation stars formed after many of the first generation exploded in supernovas spreading their atoms and remaining original gases into space. Our own sun is a third generation star made from the remains of those that have gone before as well as primordial hydrogen and helium. In something of a similar manner, when you die your proteins, amino acids and the atoms they are comprised of will return to the Earth from which they came to be reused by others or for other purposes such as trees, mountains, clouds or oceans. We are all borrowers. We borrow what we need while we are here. We live on borrowed bones that someday must be returned.
            That original single cell that was you did what all cells do, with no direction from you or from your mother; it conscripted atoms from its environment and incorporated them into itself. It grew, divided to become two cells, then four and eight, all using those atoms from long-dead stars. As an adult your body is constantly replacing itself. They say that all the cells in your body are replaced every decade or so. That being the case, how is it that ‘you’ continue to exist? Clearly it is not the physical cells that are you. Even brain cells which are the seat of awareness and consciousness are replaced over time despite the urban myth to the contrary. What is it then that is you or me? Is life an illusion? Are we nothing more than ambulatory repositories for selfish genes as Dawkins argued decades ago? Would life be any different if we were?
            Just as the features of your face, your skin color and texture does not change when its cells are replaced neither does your experience of self – your self-awareness -- when your brain cells are replaced. Certainly injuries to the brain can change this, just as a bodily injury can change your appearance. Brain injuries can of course cause you to become someone else or even become unaware of yourself, but under normal circumstances even though all your cells may be replaced, you are still you.
            Your facial features, the color of your eyes, those freckles on your skin as well as your brain cells and their connections are maintained by your bodily processes in a constant battle against entropy (the tendency of things to fall apart, lose energy, etc.).  New cells replace old cells and are copies of the cells they replace. Skin cells die and flake off. Internal cells such as those responsible for the color of your eyes, die and are carried off by the blood stream or are broken down into their constituent proteins and amino acids and carried off or reused in place. This is all done in a manner that maintains that physical arrangement that defines your features, your body. It’s that pattern, that arrangement, that relationship between cells and proteins that makes your body what it is and makes you who you are. Your consciousness, your self-awareness, your mind is an arrangement as well. It is a pattern of connected brain cells and their neuronal firings that begin long before you are aware. You are a pattern of information, a process of your brain that is maintained by your body’s homeostasis. All the cells, atoms, neurons and neurotransmitters in your brain can be replaced individually and as long as the replacement maintains the original pattern you will still be you. If on the other hand the replacement is faulty like with Alzheimer’s disease then we begin to change. We become someone else or we lose a part of ourselves.  
            Each of us is only on this Earth for a short time; we arise from the atoms around us, driven by unique information in our DNA. Our bodies are arrangements, patterns built from the information contained in our DNA. We learn, we become, and we are those dynamic arrangements built of borrowed bones, borrowed atoms, neurons and neuronal firings in our brains. We are borrowers. We borrow atoms to build and repair our bodies for the time we are here and when we are done we return them for others to use over and over and over again.



References/Resources/Links

DNA:

Stellar Nucleosynthesis:

Big Bang Nucleosynthesis:

Brain/Mind:





About the Author

Kenny A. Chaffin writes poetry, fiction and nonfiction and has published poems and fiction in Vision Magazine, The Bay Review, Caney River Reader, WritersHood, Star*Line, MiPo, Melange and Ad Astra and has published nonfiction in The Writer, The Electron, Writers Journal and Today’s Family. He grew up in southern Oklahoma and now lives in Denver, CO where he works hard to make enough of a living to support two cats, numerous wild birds and a bevy of squirrels. His poetry collections No Longer Dressed in Black and The Poet of Utah Park and his collection of science essays How do we Know are available at Amazon.com:

 http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B007S3SMY8. He may be contacted through his website at http://www.kacweb.com

Wednesday, January 1, 2014

Radio Waves (poem)


Radio Waves


I listen to Radio New Zealand as I prepare my evening meal.
I think of life before Fox News, Rupert Murdoch, cell
phones and 24 hour infomercials.

A time when life was harder but simpler, more content.
I think of radio waves beamed from Christchurch, circling
the Earth, spreading news, music and culture not only around
the globe but into space as well, beaming towards Alpha
Centauri, spreading at the speed of light from our tiny
corner of the galaxy.

What if somehow we could catch that wave,
pass it and return to a simpler time.


Kenny A. Chaffin – 12/30/2013
(From - The Joy of Science - Poems of Science and Speculation )

Wednesday, September 25, 2013

A Death in the Country


 

A Death in the Country

by

Kenny A. Chaffin

All Rights Reserved © 2013 Kenny A. Chaffin





            America has been eviscerated and no one noticed. Our small towns are dead, or dying. As I look around what was once the vibrant town square of my home town there is nothing, the shops are boarded up or have ratty looking second-hand shops. There are nasty looking, too-steep wooden ramps mounted on the four or six steps (depending on which side of the square you are on) leading up to the sidewalks in front of the dirty windows, the boarded up shops and the dregs of those few souls still trying to somehow make a go of it with an indoor garage sale. Only two legitimate businesses are there, The Madill Record and the bank – now renamed but  in the same place, with the same ‘drive through building’ banking where I had my first checking account, my first car loan from the then First National Bank of Madill.
            The square was once a vibrant center of commerce, civilization and communion. There was the TG&Y 5-cent store, The Corner Barber Shop with its spinning red, white and blue barber pole, the Dry Goods store, The Madill Flower Shop, Parrish Plumbing, the Art and Nick-Nack shop, Rexall Drug Store and another dozen smaller shops selling everything from garden seeds and gardening trinkets to a watch shop. It’s all gone, all boarded up, all broken windows and falling down facades. And we wonder why angry displaced troubled adolescents shoot up our schools, our theaters and each other.
            Our stores have been replaced by Wal-Mart, Kmart, Target, Safeway, Kroger and Amazon. We are homogenized and categorized and targeted and sold by the daily assault of media that tells us what we need to know, who we are and what to pick up from the grocery store. We no longer know the clerk behind the scanner which tallies and totals and assigns and tracks all your purchases even though that clerk may be the single mother that lives next door with her parents because we no longer talk to our neighbors and that clerk has been instructed by corporate training to never get personal with the customers and if she does she will lose her job, her way to feed her son and her American Dream of finishing night school, getting a degree in nursing from the community college because there are a thousand others waiting behind her to take that job.
            The daily news is full of doom and gloom, there is no hope, unemployment is up, earnings are down, the stock market tanked and homes are being repossessed. Oh and the CEO of Leman Brothers got a 5.6 billion dollar incentive bonus. Good news for him.
            Everything we see on TV, everything we hear on Radio is targeted to tell us who we are, what we should do, what products we should buy and how we should feel about Uzbekistan. Oh and let’s throw in a little high-calorie “Dancing with the Stars” or “Meth Dealing for Christ.”
            We no longer have time to discuss the weather, politics or new products with the Dry Goods seller or the neighbors we meet in the store, because there is no store, and we don’t talk. We don’t know what others think or feel, we don’t share our day-to-day trials and tribulations with our neighbors or friends we’re too busy getting to work or dropping the kid off for music lessons or hockey or football or picking them up and grabbing dinner from McDonalds so we can get home in time to watch “Lost.”
            WAKE UP PEOPLE!  We are all ‘lost.’ We’ve lost our way, we’ve become sheep, herded and guided and fleeced. No one knows who they are, only who they are told to be and when someone breaks out of the trance it is all too often a Nathan Dunlap or a Adam Lanza or a James Holmes. It’s 1984. We’ve forgotten how to live, how to communicate, how to support one another. We are dying from the inside out. Just look at our small towns.




             





About the Author

Kenny A. Chaffin writes poetry, fiction and nonfiction and has published poems and fiction in Vision Magazine, The Bay Review, Caney River Reader, WritersHood, Star*Line, MiPo, Melange and Ad Astra and has published nonfiction in The Writer, The Electron, Writers Journal and Today’s Family. He grew up in southern Oklahoma and now lives in Denver, CO where he works hard to make enough of a living to support two cats, numerous wild birds and a bevy of squirrels. His poetry collections No Longer Dressed in Black, The Poet of Utah Park, The Joy of Science, A Fleeting Existence, a collection of science essays How do we Know, and a memoir of growing up on an Oklahoma farm - Growing Up Stories are all available at Amazon.com: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B007S3SMY8. He may be contacted through his website at http://www.kacweb.com

Tuesday, August 13, 2013

A Martian Odyssey (poem)



A Martian Odyssey


There are no clouds in the Martian sky
Curiosity cries at night
when no one hears her silent tears
when no one feels her pain

The sunsets are as thin as the air
no sounds are heard from afar
she cries for Sojourner the oldest here
whose time was cut so short

She wishes to visit him and the others
her brothers and sisters on Mars
but the signal directs, the command is clear
she turns towards Mount Sharp



Kenny A. Chaffin – 8/10/13

From my poetry collection - The Poet of Utah Park available from
Amazon.com: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00EKOTNA0