Tag Archives: galaxy

Asteroseismology

I see no stars in the sky anymore, darling

That’s because they’ve all fallen to the ground now

And lodged their nebulous shards in between

Those tiny beating hearts and empty restless souls

And names and cities and sidewalks no one will ever know

And these stars are long damaged with love

But they look just as exquisitely pretty as when they

Were once strung up in that infinite tapestry

We call the universe—the same universe where

I wonder why I’m still so caught up in you and I

When we’re only stripped-down parts of a woeful quintillion

An unknown number with hydrogen in our breaths

And I want enough pieces for a constellation, darling

Just like you and them and us and the rest of this galaxy

Will you have slowly mended everything together for me

Or are you just another faded light I will soon have to bury?

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

Andromeda

Can anyone reveal the bloodstains

Hiding underneath my torn lips…

Would anyone kiss it all away?

.

My thoughts are arrested at gunpoint

As if they were guilty of something—

.

But the crimes hanging my crown

Heavy on one side are nothing new

I’ve already paid for them time and time again

But why am I still being punished?

.

I can’t escape the incarceration from

What everyone else calls their brain

Try as I may to scrape off the slivers of light,

A jailbreak only makes for broken bones

And a rather crueler atonement…

.

I’m crossing thin lines inside my head

And all over my skin, precarious and fatal

Until humility becomes my illness

.

And manipulation my only chapel of truth

.

For I am no longer human; rather

I am simply a galaxy of constellated scars

.

But not a single one coruscates any longer

And my flesh becomes just another dead star

Extinguished quietly in the infinite darkness.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

Glass Slipper

Because baby, baby, you’re so crazy now
Looks like I’m not the only one now
And I could finally see the light
Oh, there’s a million stars tonight
A single one could save my life…

~*~

There’s a million glass slippers across the galaxy

Scintillating in quiet fervour, constellated reveries

In sizes that vary, from supernova explosions to dwarf suns

But I could point out the most distant and say it’s the one

The one that barely emits light, almost devoured by the darkness

Of the eventide firmament, a pale eternity of madness

Unremarkable in comparison to other astral entities that rage

Indigo skies blotched with abstract shades, while it burns a solemn beige

But that broken glass slipper is the one I will always adore

Every night, I gaze upon it while nescient eyes shall choose to ignore

There’s a million glass slippers scattered across this infinity

But I only have one, my dear Cinderella star, I know she fits me perfectly.

~*~

Red water leaves us
As we collide (Drella! Drella!)
Red water leaves us
And I just drive.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

Illumina

i was wrong to think

dear, that the lights would follow you

back home, where i sleep alone

with an extinguished lamp

.

perhaps you were too prudent

and needn’t dare to waste the stars

on such fickle promenades

.

or perhaps i wasn’t worth the weight

of a galaxy where you exist

.

or perhaps the infinite nights were too much a burden for you

.

but whatever the curious reason

i still stand solitary under a dismal sky

and you’re still kissing the sunlight

as the moon falls under the endless well

weeping grievously for its lost love

.

and my heart wouldn’t be forgiven

for all the scars it left on yours

.

but i hold starlight within my eyes

ones you shall never touch nor extinguish

like the cold lamp smouldering by my bedside

.

for i was mistaken to think, dear

that you were the only source of luminescence.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

Stargirl and the Rocket Lights

You are a curiosity, or a mental case, as some called it rather crudely and dismissively, and you knew everyone noticed. But they didn’t care, and neither should you. One day, you impulsively proclaimed, whilst balancing on the top of a redwood tree branch, that disappearing acts never got old, so you said goodbye to your squirrel friend, clambered down the tree hurriedly, and dashed home. You burst into your room with a loud door slam, gathered up your paraphernalia, grabbed your half-full rucksack dotted with strange pins and souvenir keychains, which was patiently waiting by your ramshackle oakwood cabinet, and began haphazardly shoving various motley things inside. Once you were finished cleaning up and made even more of a mess in the process, you quickly plastered a teddy bear print band-aid on your cheek from where the rough wood accidentally scratched and left a thin red mark, clumsily tied your DIY pinstriped Keds’ purple and green shoelaces, stretched out—as if competing in a marathon—on an abandoned Twister board on your carpeted floor, and finally you left the house, chasing your dissolution without so much as a backward glance. The first part was easy. The next part was easier.

The nightwalking horizon was tinted virtually the same colour as your ripped stonewashed denim overalls, the reticulated stars were in implausible full burst and clearly visible, a myriad riot like the splattered black inkstains on your bohemian tie-dyed shirt, and the moon was shaded exactly and uncannily like your ivory silk flower leggings, the number of the craters perfectly aligned with the number of the frayed holes by your knees, the ones you tore yourself with zigzag safety scissors. The dreamy air tasted faintly like bubblegum ice cream, and the astral bodies were softly clicking into their designated places, a marvellous tableaux of God’s fanciful ethereal jigsaw puzzle. Nothing more was to be prepared; all you had to do was pass against the serendipitous turn of time. That particular task in itself was no difficult feat for your whimsical affinity. The other factor to consider was your destination. Invariably, it didn’t matter which bus you got on, if you were even waiting for a bus at all, for you have an overpowering ominous sensation within your heart that you’ll always inevitably end up on a wayward road, diverging on the intersection to nowhere. And in your own quote unquote words, as that one cliché that nobody says goes, signal for the universe and the galaxy will come.

Your vintage analogue Hello Kitty clock ticked sluggishly second by second, and the small candy floss pink lights by the side came to life and began to glow fervently as the hands struck exactly 8 PM. You had a lot of time to spend thereon and then, sitting prim and taciturn on the graffitied wooden bench, waiting for the longest forever. You intertwined scarlet camellias on your plaited geranium hair and held it in place with a gargantuan leopard-print scrunchie. You tapped your hands, plucked a few sweet and sour notes on your marmalade-orange ukulele, and hummed a Joy Division song melodically, and you laughed quietly when you flubbed the chorus with a splintered squeak. You counted the cheap glittery stars you stuck on your plastic journal even though you knew the number by heart, some microscopic yellow speckles transferring to your skin as you absentmindedly peeled one at the side with a polkadotted fingernail. You scribbled lines of guitar keys, and doodled literal intricate keys without paired locks, onto the slightly-torn cover page with a blueblooded space pen, and used the same pen to trace the wiry butterfly outline on your right ankle. You observed with childish wonder and twinkling heterochromatic dandelion eyes as prams, automobiles, taxis, and tallyho’s passed by you in an amicable whirlwind breeze and friendly engine revving. There were a billion tangible stars in this side of the dimension, just a little more than the glamorous stars shining on your notebook, and you can pluck each and every single one off their orbit. You had a lot of fun little preoccupations, and the time on your hands seemed almost eternal.

Time was up. When it seemed like the aberrant clocks hitched their breaths and you’ve done a thousand and one tasks to fill such a lacuna, finally, Hello Kitty’s spinning hour hand gingerly moved into its designated place. The moment it touched the notch and exactly as the pink lights began their little show, you tilted your chin until it was higher than your freckled button nose, and stared enthusiastically at the empty tranquil sky. As if on cue, your implausible carpool vehicle hurtled imperceptibly from beneath the atmosphere, burning the crepuscular firmament’s concrete shadows at light-year speed, and arrived with a dissuaded thump, to take you away from such a bland and diluted planet. Tucking a stray highlighted neon hair back in your pierced and heavily-ornamented ears, you cautiously replaced the overflowing tatterdemalion notebook back in your bag, bounced on your heels and stood up with lilting sneakered toes, and ceremoniously stepped into that rocketship invention calmly, without any nuance of surprise or astonishment. It seemed you would simply walk straight and be swallowed whole by the blinding flash, but at the last moment, you turned back at the dominating darkness and sent a quaint, fragile, almost palpable air-kiss flying from your painted ruby lips and painted dainty fingers onto the open space. The entire population of the world must have felt a faint zephyr graze their cheek softly at that very moment, but they were too naïve to even bother with noticing it. Yet you said your polite goodbyes, so it didn’t matter. You grandiosely waved a final farewell, the tattooed patterns on your arms spinning and dancing with pastel motion, and you smiled lazily, quite cryptically, as the metallic-gold doors closed in dénouement with a sibilant hiss and a burst of flourishing steam. The metaphysical vessel roared as it propelled into ignition again, shooting up into the sky immediately and billowing into evanescence out of peripheral view, and you were gone with it. Your wish was granted, and you permanently left behind the life you always tolerated with distaste, into a more interesting place with a better yesterday, and no one cared…except for one.

Stargirl, when you ran away and stole the cornflower moon with you from the midnight sky to elope, did you think no one would be interested? When you vanished and charmingly serenaded the sun into a retrograde motion, did you think no one would find out? Did you ever think, for a single heartbeat, that when your star, hiding in plan sight among millions of the other specks in the star-freckled sky, was quietly extinguished, I wouldn’t even notice?

I out of all people would hate to admit such a fact, but for once in your extraordinary yet ephemeral existence, Stargirl, you were wrong.

1 Comment

Filed under Prose

Hidden Universe

The way that you wrote your A’s—

Like incomplete stars missing a line.

I could simply open your notebook,

Flip it to one of your lyrical compositions,

And make constellations in paper;

White parallel lines in two dimensions.

The way that you wrote your A’s;

Like unfinished stars waiting to scintillate,

I always liked the way they appeared.

Your A’s were little constellations,

Existing within a galaxy of ink stains,

On a universe of art, doodles, and words

In that tattered and frayed notebook.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

Standby

If the sky that we look upon should tumble and fall
Or the mountain should crumble to the sea
I won’t cry, I won’t cry, no, I won’t shed a tear
Just as long as you stand, stand by me…

~*~

Why won’t you just stand by me

When my flimsy lullabies falter

Dissolving into stars so sullenly

Speckling the midnight splatter

When the thin air is suffocating

My lungs like a veil of pollution

Breathe, my oxygen effervescing

Heaven’s my only proper solution

The placid moon refines its aura

Into one masterful stained glass

Ready to hear the mournful coda

Of an operatic Valkyrie’s cold lass

Why won’t you simply stand by me

When I’m all apt to be falling apart

Is this but my astrological reveries

Built by a wandering glitched heart

Perhaps I dare now to be neurotic

My tales taller than a red sequoia

In this beach of sands and plastic

You’re the most nebulous paranoia

As sporadic as an elemental spirit

Donning your perverse confluence

And a lopsided smile that’s conduit

For a clandestine mischievousness

Darling, won’t you stand, stand by me

When the galaxy catches my attention

And celestial kingdoms align recklessly

We’ll watch Earth’s theatrical revolution

This quaint planet’s divested, so let it be

Come walk with me for last destination

And I shall carry you home into eternity

Where we can finally sit to rest our notions.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

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.

Leave a comment

Filed under Fixed Poetry, Poetry

Lose Hold

I want to spin wildly where the veering planets are

I wish to ride in the blaze of a yellow shooting star

I’d love to count the quarks, kiss the sun, chase hope

I’d be ecstatic to surf the nebula, and simply lose hold

I dream to dance the fun night on the galaxies someday

….If only the cruel hand of gravity doesn’t keep pulling me away.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

When The Madman Stole Her Away

She was just another broken machine

With a lacklustre life and a weary sheen

But all that changed, blue turned to fay

When the madman stole her away

.

He travelled with her, grinning in bliss

Through golden time and silver galaxies

She promised she would, said he’d play

When the madman stole her away

.

She’s witnessed both his hearts break

Watched aliens trapped with no escape

Time and time, she has saved the day

When the madman stole her away

.

She is powerful, impossible, antithesis

Cause for when the universe freezes

Immaculate, tacky, sexy, he daresays

When the madman stole her away

.

She’s been hurt, bruised, and kidnapped

Tossed around and led to a fruitless stop

Banged up, hit, slammed, but she is okay

When the madman stole her away

.

Varying strangers have always come and gone

Marvelled in awe, basked in her heart and charm

But in the end, it’s always her and the madman to stay

When the Time Lord Doctor stole the TARDIS away.

Leave a comment

Filed under Fandom Poetry, Poetry