Astro Poetry Contest Awards – Keynote Address – 4/20/24

“Said the sun to the moon

Said the head to the heart

we have more in common

Than sets us apart”

From Let the Light Pour In by Lemn Sissay

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What we have in common is trying to make sense of it all. Peering up at the giant mystery from which we pull order, design and beauty. Sharing storytelling from the wonder.

“The universe is not only stranger than we imagine, it is stranger than we can imagine.”

— Sir Arthur Eddington, The Nature of the Physical World (1927)

One could argue we haven’t come much closer to being able to imagine the truth of everything in the last century. And yet we still answer the cosmic pull to try.

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“How long ’til my soul gets it right

Can any human being ever reach that kind of light

I call on the resting soul of Galileo king of night vision

King of insight”

— Galileo by The Indigo Girls

An opening prayer of sorts. An attempt to get it right. An effort to articulate the ineffable.

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“When we contemplate the whole globe as one great dewdrop, striped and dotted with continents and islands, flying through space with other stars all singing and shining together as one, the whole universe appears as an infinite storm of beauty.”

John Muir

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From established writer:

LEE BALLENTINE

Poets operate on the level of metaphor and symbolic reasoning. We also focus on emotions, the non-cognitive processes of the mind. It’s only possible to communicate on a cognitive level if you share a basic platform of common concerns with someone. Communication works when you communicate about something both parties care about. Without emotion, communication is just an annoying noise in your ear.

Carl Sagan, author of the novel Contact, was interested in poetry. When he produced his science television series Cosmos, he included poetry and worked with Diane Ackerman—a great poet whose work I published in my anthology POLY in the 1980s. Diane was Carl’s poetry consultant for Cosmos and advised him on the poetry selections.

If we do encounter alien intelligences out in space, it’s highly likely that we will best be able to connect with them on a symbolic and metaphorical level. What will we have in common with them?

• Death, almost certainly.

• Some kind of relation to the enormousness and emptiness of space—their version of the loneliness of the explorer.

• Something corresponding to our experience of beauty.

Whatever aliens are like, the skills of a mathematician may be needed to open communications with them, but the skills of a poet will be needed to say anything they will care to hear or be able to understand.

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“Some celestial event…no…no words…

no words to describe it…poetry…

they should’ve sent a poet… so beautiful…

beautiful… so beautiful… so beautiful…

I had no idea… I had no idea”

— Jodie Foster as Dr. Eleanor Ann “Ellie” Arroway in Contact (1997)

Whether the subject is astronomy, theoretical mathematics, quantum physics, bio-chemistry or something along the lines of the humanities, it is often poetry that is best suited to bridge those gaps and traverse those expanses between us. To find commonality and community amidst our seemingly insurmountable differences. Poetry brings us together and makes us more happy that we are.

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“We have calcium in our bones, iron in our veins, carbon in our souls, and nitrogen in our brains. 93 percent stardust, with souls made of flames, we are all just stars that have people names.”

— Nikita Gill

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“Contemplate the stars. Each one gifted with its own glittering like you are.”

— Maxima Kahn

I have contemplated the stars, the planets including our own, as well as my own individual glittering. I have meditated upon the entire universe as well as my tiny place in it and I’ve brought four original pieces, written specifically for today to share with everyone.

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Order of Pieces To Share:

Flash Flood

The Night Sky

Remembered Well

Into the Fullness

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How do you do it? said night.

How do you wake and shine?

I keep it simple. said light.

One day at a time.

From Let the Light Pour In by Lemn Sissay

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About SIDEWAYS EIGHT

Being heard, stirred, and perhaps cured by life's many hidden images and the written-spoken word.
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