Tag Archives: cosmic

wanderlust

you are

raindrops

trickling into

my blood

.

the sight of

the new world

after a long

tiring voyage

.

rusty chain links

rattling against

the street youth’s

scuffed shoes

.

five thousand

ways to say

maybe i like

the way you are

.

warm sunset

trapped in

a mason jar

and buried

.

an innocent

kind of swear

the one that

draws a blush

.

the humming

at the back of

a sad song

in b flat minor

.

a ticklish

kind of green

sticky clumps

of feline fur

.

the start of

a good movie

a back-alley

kind of kiss

.

a saturday

forgotten

a leap year

birthday blues

.

argonaut dreams

and cosmic hail

and candle wax

and old poetry

.

you are all

these things

and more, but

you are not

.

h e r e

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intercosmic

if you’re simply

too out there

like outer space

then i’m the

only cosmonaut

that dares to fly off

in a rocket and

remove my helmet

.

to take a deep

breath of your void

tastes of stardust

to make my lungs spin

maybe my head will

pop like a comet

or maybe you would be

my discovered planet.

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Filed under Poetry

Cosmic Comatose


ʟᴏᴠᴇ, ʜᴜɴᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴅᴏᴡɴ
ɪ ᴄᴀɴ’ᴛ sᴛᴀɴᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ sᴏ ᴅᴇᴀᴅ
ʙᴇʜɪɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇʏᴇs
ᴀɴᴅ ғᴇᴇᴅ ᴍᴇ, sᴘᴀʀᴋ ᴍᴇ ᴜᴘ
ᴀ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ ɪɴ ᴍʏ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅsᴛʀᴇᴀᴍ
ᴄʜᴇᴡs ᴍᴇ ᴜᴘ
sᴏ ɪ ᴄᴀɴ ғᴇᴇʟ sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ…


am i insane, stars?

i made exposed promises to you that i am far from keeping,

melted cosmos and calliope leaking from the corners of my eyes

as his fickle thought is ever missing from the warm embrace

that you provide, only for me to find out that it was just a lie.

flowers grow from my pink bones, the longer i starve myself

and soon enough i have a lithe bouquet with a pretty bow

thorns and boughs left in virgin snow, where heavy cherry

blossoms couldn’t hold out ’til spring to shake off the cold

like me. like me with my corrupted lungs and corrupted lovers

and mute corruption in my light, so much so that when it passes

through the stained glass windows of our unmarried chapel, all i see

is grey. and yet, i still pray. i still cast my bruised eyes to the ground

and wipe away the profanities from the corner of my mouth, where he

left them festering, evergreen, so sweet, bittersweet—where he never

was at all. but god, he didn’t cause this! i caused this, most this

lost this, i took the losing chance and loved until my bastard heart

choked with dopamine and plasticine and oxytocin and strychnine and

still…and still! it just wasn’t enough. no. all i could see is the faint outline

of his hands and his cloying laughter and his blurry eyes so blue you’d

have thought an ocean was trapped beneath it. i would know. i would

have drowned. maybe i’ll still have drowned. i’m already drowned.

skin. finite. nothing. the current that carried souls along to solace

love in the time of scarlet fever, and him, and him, and you? and you.

nothing more. nevermore. neverwhere. we’re all here, now.

so tell me this, stars. am i insane? or am i just too human for my own good?


ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴛᴏᴜᴄʜ
‘ᴄᴀᴜsᴇ ɪ’ᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴍɪssɪɴɢ ɪᴛ
ɪ’ᴍ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍɪɴɢ ᴏғ sᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇʀs
ᴋɪssɪɴɢ ᴍᴇ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ɴɪɢʜᴛ
ᴊᴜsᴛ sᴏ ɪ, ᴊᴜsᴛ sᴏ ɪ
ᴄᴀɴ ғᴇᴇʟ sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ…


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Cosmic Calamities

Moving on down my street
I see people I won’t ever meet
Think of her, take a breath
Feel the beat in the rhythm of my steps
And sometimes it’s a sad song…

~*~

GRADIENT

Get out of my head

And make your home in my stars

I won’t mind at all.

~*~

EBONY

Black holes and kisses

Hurricanes rest in our bed

Secrets for the moon.

~*~

OPALESCENT

Sunshine and smoke fog

You crawl past astral scorpions

Dance lyres in cold fires.

~*~

FACSIMILES

I’m made of strangers

And andromeda’s starlight

And constellations.

~*~

FADED

Sweet blue gravity

Am I still your reverie

Or did you let go?

~*~

Make everyday worth all of the pain
That I have gone through
And mama I’ve been cryin’
‘Cause things ain’t how they used to be
She said “the battle’s almost won
And we’re only several miles from the sun.”

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Filed under Fixed Poetry, Poetry

Glass Stars and Warm Skin

The glass stars crumble to sand every night

Fall on your skin like cool raindrops might

It cuts and maims, yellow aegean scintillate

Until you are a universe, cosmos constellate

It wasn’t facile to achieve your quaint glows

You bled life away before it shines thorough

The glass stars sparkling in a showering light

Your body tasting stardust like the sky might.

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Filed under Poetry

Cosmic Band-Aids

The coalescing Seattle twilight was an interplaying illusion of dusk and haze, warm colours replacing the pastel skylines, only to be painted over by the deep indigo eventide. The local rustic town café was already closing up, and they barely had time to finish the last bites of their chocolate bonbons and sip the remaining drops of their hazelnut vanilla frappé, before the intermittent barista ushered them out—quite literally, with a tremulous hand and an apologetic jilted demeanour. Now they stood outside the establishment in introspective reverie, dimmed bronze sodium streetlight the only solitary light source that resiliently pierced through the caliginous melancholy.

She was a blushing rose, liquid and pale, every infinitesimal detail somehow magnified to be remarkably interesting. Fragrance of baby’s breath and frankincense, posture of a regal and sophisticated monarch, delicate face as that of an angel’s glimpse of paradise, personality of an intricate vintage lock and a million exploding suns. Her companion, admittedly, was a person of less enigma, yet was still a character of significance, an oakwood branch, roughly-hewn and intense, simple yet charismatic. That svelte and cheeky-looking fellow had untidy coffee-tint hair, a discursive ironic smirk, an insouciant slouch, and a steely glint that, more often than not, signalled trouble.

As the fog and the regent shadows further intensified, the pauses and discomfited silence between them further attenuated. Moments passed. Her candyfloss-pink sundress fluttered like a jaded butterfly as she tucked a frayed bookmark behind her seashell ear, and her taciturn companion watched her intently, like an engrossed pawnbroker. Without permission, he began to remove his worn tan overcoat and gingerly placed the article over her cool shoulders, still warm and cosy by his own body heat. Flustered by the uncalled attention, she turned away to brush a stray raven hair back into her gossamer tufted bun, and lost grip of her book of poems, fragile pages yellowed and dogeared with age. Sylvia Plath’s ancient anthology dropped with a soft thump right side up, opening uncannily on the centre page containing Mad Girl’s Love Song, and both bent down and fumbled clumsily to pick it up in haste.

Fingers tangled. Glances exchanged. Blue eyes collided with green. Hands clenched. Throats choked. Hearts skipped. Breaths hitched. Souls shattered. Their blueberry-strawberry swirl ice cream melted absently like calligraphy on the pavement. The book now lay abandoned and forgotten, its unspoken poetry dancing alongside the breeze. No words were whispered. None were necessary. Overhead, the last of the brimstone shades faded away, and incandescent stars splashed the darkness of the falling sky. Below, firework eyes showered sparks, and skins intertwined. Witnessing it all, hiding behind the wisps of pewter clouds and overlooking the nocturnal planet, the glowing moon quaintly smiled.

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Filed under Prose

Just A Twinge Of Cosmic Angst: A Sestina

I sit taciturn and wondering, waiting for the universe

to take my shaking hand into her further infinity.

I see the connected constellations, ostentatious

as they are, splashes and arcs of light tessellating

into the galaxy’s tender motion and sleepy staccato,

Falling fast within this midnight sky so consummate.

.

Now I won’t admit into being also consummate,

Not in the physique of this elegant universe.

My body is made of mere stardust staccato

ravelling tightly into a quite beautiful infinity.

Yet I shall admit defeat unto death, tessellating

into a parasitic decay non so ostentatious.

.

We all wish to enter the gates of Heaven, ostentatious

as humans get. We are quite passionate and consummate

with our concepts arranged into a stained-glass tessellation,

Ignoring still the vast reaches withheld in the universe

and thinking that this small orbit of ours is all that’s infinity,

Earning us a mindset of broken glass and fragmented staccato.

.

Truly, our planet is a zealous one, of cobalt and viridian tessellation,

Pieced together, and yet barely holding on, our divinity ostentatious.

Our sea levels and stretched firmament seem to reach infinity

up to our all-knowing Mother, her opalescent gown consummate,

But then again, she is just another dress in this party of the universe

Her descrying jade heart pulsating and flatlining into faintest staccato.

.

And materialistic, we resolutely remain, technology tessellating,

Preaching with arguing high voices, radioing into noisy black staccato.

Pray must we, for help. Ask forgiveness to the spinning universe

for we have been too indulged getting severely pompously ostentatious.

And soon, no longer will she ever care, for she is a goddess consummate

with her rarities. A powerful chromatic angel donning white wings of infinity.

.

We drown all our self-abnegation in a shallow turbid pool of falsified infinity,

But look up to the astral skies, you fools, and see the stars’ bright tessellation!

We can nevermore achieve the paramount gracefulness of being consummate,

for we are mere scintilla specks floating in space. Barely even a borrowed staccato

that’s vainglorious, ruffling our colourful feathers. Now cease ostentation,

Breathe in the sun…do you feel that slightest twinge of cosmic angst from the universe?

.

I whisper but echoing souls, cut into philosophical tessellation, and cast into evaporation. I might as well be speaking staccato,

but the patient universe hears my every cry, and gifts me some of her onyx satin habiliment. I accept humbly, non ostentatiously

so I see clearly finally. Wherefore must we humans be so dragged into consummate? This life is not a question of perfection, but rather, what we choose to do with our own infinity.

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Filed under Fixed Poetry, Poetry

Cosmic Synesthesia

You spoke a word, life began
Told oceans where to start and where to end
You set in motion time and space
But still you come and you’re calling me by name…

~*~

BLIPPED BANG THEORY

Her soft astral breaths

And mind of dark energy

Formed a universe.

~*~

NIGHTMARES & NOCTURNE

Twisting and turning

Lunar blanket comforting

Conscience relaxing.

~*~

YOU CAN…

Grasp the stars in place

Knock my gravity away

Break the milky way.

~*~

WATCHFUL SATELLITE

Did you know, Juno

Jupiter’s never faithful

Yet you still try so?

~*~

SPACE RACE

Racing on spaceships

Bumping on stark asteroids

Orbits to nowhere.

~*~

THEATRICAL REVOLUTION

Chains keep me in place

Watch planetary stage plays

Audience lost in haze.

~*~

NIGHTFALL

Sundown, distant frown

Of the dusk’s shimmering gown

Evening waltzes soon.

~*~

PERMANENT PRINTS

Hey now, you say how

Algid words like moonswept wind

Footprints left within.

~*~

[G]ASTRONOMICAL DELIGHT

Taste the velvet night

Savoury sips of sunlight

Food for our soul.

~*~

LAKESIDE SUNRISE

Basked glory, daybreak

Dusty shores and empty lake

Peace in breaths you take.

~*~

If you can hold the stars in place
You can hold my heart the same
Whenever I fall away
Whenever I start to break
So here I am, lifting up my heart
To the one who holds the stars…

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Filed under Fixed Poetry, Poetry

Stardust

~*~

“The nitrogen in our DNA. The calcium in our teeth. The iron in our blood. The carbon in our apple pies were made in the interiors of collapsing stars. We are made of star stuff.” ~Carl Sagan

~*~

Shooting stars watch me fall apart

And clothe me in the great yellow sun

Dance on a boulevard of broken hearts

Sparkling shards of my regretted fun

Dashing comets spun around the clock

Chasing off Time’s ceaseless wails

Asteroids in collision course with rocks

Running after their own scorching tails

Lace my DNA with the nebula’s love

Genes of intoxicating nitroglycerine

My fingertips sends their best regards

To the Northern Lights waving between

Negative particles nibbling at the dark

Hungry midnight devouring the light

But worry not for there’s always a spark

That gives it a stomachache and fights

The universe grows in a mad blaze of glory

Won’t you hear out my quaint sacrifice?

Bored galaxies don’t care much for my story

Humans are but creatures of early demise

For what are we compared to their stellar gears

But some wispy aches and sinews of skin?

Astral plains have shed marvellous tears

Yet we’re but without fates floating within

But just as stars will collapse and embrace

And our old ivory bones will creak and rust

Like everything in this infinite soul of space

We all must revert to stardust.

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Filed under Poetry

Surreptitious

Sneaking out late, o’er here and there

Past the squeaky groan of tired stairs

Past the soft sighs of fluffy carpet floor

Out the boast of the huge oaken door

Into the midnight skies’ open splendour

Dancing shadows of monochrome colour

Past the cold nooks and susurrus dark alleys

And onto the verdant heart of green valleys

Zephyr blowing ever softly without a care

As I arrive on time to my appointed affair

With the silliest of my little secret dates

Of me and the galaxy’s colliding destined fates

Shooting stars hold tight my trembling hand

Silver ribbon of nebula can only understand

So won’t you take me away to that special place

For a drink of the universe’s intoxicating haze

And tomorrow wake up, cosmic hungover

But tended for by the mellow sunlight’s care until I feel better.

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