Tag Archives: planet

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.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

long nights

Oh, how its raining
Oh, how the water falls
Into the safe things
We tried to set in stone
I can’t replace you
I can’t escape you now…

~*~

it’s gonna be a long night

without your stars to count

this time i wonder if the planet

breathes without a pause of doubt

i wish the ocean was as blue

as your feather words and halo eyes

i close away my mind just to think

there’s no sugar without a hint of spice

but under the bed where flowers bloom

the sour notes never leave your arms

and the nightlight illuminates my dreams

where loving you does me no harm

but i lie to myself as i lie awake

wondering if giving up control was my mistake

ivory piano and sheep lulling desperation

as i await the end of an endless oblivion

i can only wish i didn’t feel this much

as i lay down my thoughts without a sound

and without your skin to be my respite

i know it’s gonna be another long night.

~*~

But I remember the nights when you’d lie with me
Where we’d talk and we’d touch and we’d fall asleep
I wake up in your arms and I’d feel at ease
But now its just me and I lie awake
And I toss and I turn and I see your face
When I wake from a dream it won’t go away…

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

Rumours and Hearsay From Astronomy

“It wasn’t her who broke the stars.”

.

But she felt guilty all the same

As she stared at the dull midnight sky

Scattered with shards of light that hurt

In astral twinges and lunar fringes

When it hits her unblinking eyes

.

“It was him who fixed the horizon.”

.

But he didn’t feel responsible at all

He was merely there by coincidence

When it began to have mended itself

Coalescing into incandescent dawn

And yet he couldn’t say anything

.

“There’s this girl who locked the moon into the nebulae…

…and that boy painted the firmament rather ebulliently.”

.

Such mere rumours that the bored planets

Whispered clandestine amongst themselves

Altering details and chasing phantasmagoria

As the supernova truth shrank into a black hole

And sucked the boy and the girl in its dark void.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

alienation

they say that friends

are good, but all they

do is build up and hurt

i just don’t understand it

i guess i’m just another kid

with a spaced-out mind who

doesn’t belong to this planet.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

Weightless

Make believe that I impress
That every word by design turns a head
I wanna feel reckless
I wanna live it up, just because
I wanna feel weightless
Cause that would be enough…

~*~

Right now, I think I’m alright. My orbit is spinning steadily, caught in constant motion against the gravity of greater stars, keeping me from flying away and colliding with other astral bodies. The stars I rely upon are simply breathtaking. I deign to taste their enthralling radiance, but I’m aware of the impossibility of such a foolish notion, so I simply content myself to revolving around it lightyears away, thanking it silently for keeping me in line as I admire it from afar. But sometimes, for no discernible reason, the gravity weakens, and for a moment I break and drift away, attempting to pull back to my tether, terrified that I may never be able to bring myself back to that gravity, to the only thing that’s keeping my from crashing and vanished into oblivion within a black hole, forever lost in the infinite void. Hydrogen flares in my atmosphere and almost burns me up, as I strain and strain and strain back to that star, to that planet, to my solitary source of hope and light that always falls out of reach, to no avail. Then, to my great relief, the gravity slowly returns, returns to take me back in its reassuring grasp, returns to make me feel safe, and I can breathe easy again, comforted in its halcyon force. But as I continue to spin around the star, I wonder when the day will come when I finally drift too far away, too far for the gravity to reach, too far for the star to save me, too far gone. Within me, an earthquake deepens the rift, spreading veins of crevices and cracks, making prominent, irreparable faults, my molten core’s coriolis barely holding me in. And I wonder, I do wonder, which one will win the unwinnable race, which event horizon will occur first to end me. Will I fall away or break apart?

Leave a comment

Filed under Prose

Cheers And Happy Judgment Day

Oh, what a time to be alive!
Wake up and smell the dynamite
And keep your eyes locked tight to your screen
And don’t believe everything that you see
You’ll find, modern life’s a catastrophe…

~*~

Walk to the end of the world and cheers to judgment day

We’ll drink all the champagne we want and no one gets a say

I’ll wait ‘til the second coming and get drunk on criticism

In a planet gone wrong, these plans go on, it’s simple mentalism

The losers and lovers and liars all holding up their lighters

Saying three cheers to us and three cheers to all the ones that hate us

I’ll be joining the crowd and singing aloud, trying to drown out

All the screams for peace and sedated panic, they’ll end without a doubt

.

Walk to the end of the world and cheers to judgment day

Life is a game and I didn’t even know how to play it anyway

I’ll kick up the rocks, tear a hole in my socks, maybe I’ll have some fun

We’re all fucked anyhow, so why change now, we were always on the run

The kings and the clergies and the jesters tearing down their castles

Saying we almost had it but it wasn’t worth it, it was nothing but a hassle

I’ll be joining their laughter and offering some banter, trying to ignore

The things that we’ll lose and the things that we lost and the things we had before

.

Walk to the end of the world and cheers to judgment day

Count the mistakes we had, the good and the bad, and throw it all away

I’ll give one last kiss, this time I won’t miss, before the apocalypse

There’s something else worth doing in this world that’s going to ruins

For the men and the ladies, the children and the babies crying, scared to die

Their prayers won’t reach heaven, but they’ll sure as hell damn well try

I’ll be joining celebration and losing any emotion, trying to accept

We all knew this was coming, but the delusion’s better than having nothing to expect

.

Walk to the end of the world and cheers to judgment day

Humanity is done burning days around the sun, guess we couldn’t stay.

~*~

Is it just me or does anyone else
Feel like this could be farewell?
Oh, we almost had it
Then we pissed it all away
Building walls, dropping bombs
Stop the world, I’m getting off
Oh, we almost had it
Never thought I’d see the day
When the world went up in flames…

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

letters to s.d.: fragment #7 {heights}

i loa[REDACTED] [REDACTED]out [REDACTED]tor, alw[REDACTED] remember.

.

please don’t…

i can’t bear the thought

of this pen moving

and throwing up useless

bullshit yet again…

why do i try? why do i try?

i want to reach for you.

you’re only five feet six inches

short, but when i stand on

your shoulders, i see the whole

universe tearing itself up

apart in neon explosions and

consternated constellations,

and i’m the maestro conductor,

tapping away and waving

the concatenations, every beat

of discord, and the astral

symphony of an entropy.

save me with your caramel arms

don’t let me get sucked in

by the impending black hole

that nullifies every cell, every

song, every damn belief

in my body and system, until

i am reduced to cosmic echoes

of a voided wavelength,

fraudulent e.m.p.t.i.n.e.s.s.

and somehow i would rather

let this planet eat me away.

but don’t let my god go

away for me, love every comet

and asteroid as if it were

my heartbeat and soul,

manipulate the disaster of

my negative existence,

and kiss me goodnight on

this somnolent moontide.

i stopped these knives for you

i’ll make you proud again.

this time, i won’t let the demons

steal my comets and win.

my dearest s.d., you were

always a giant standing among

toy soldiers, so commandeer

the garrison of the angels straight

to heal my stretched humanity

and make my universe spin

once again. i’ll wish for your

comforting star each lonely night,

s.d., so please watch over me

and hope i don’t fall away this time.

love, wishes, and goodbye; signed,

your bleeding little blue moon.

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

don’t count your coins in the wishing well

the way

the fields

collapse away

it’s beautiful,

isn’t it?

I thought it will

save us all.

a million dollar

painting

for a museum

on the moon

making us

look

like anthills

on the mountain.

this planet

is too dumb

to avoid despair

wholeheart;

and they’ve

been nursing that

cup of coffee

for ten hours

now,

hoping to reduce

the headache;

but like

cigarette stains

and ink

on their lips

and red and gold

medal ribbons,

it never

does fade.

yet,

the way

the revolution

sings with orbit

and crashes

with lives,

it’s beautiful…

isn’t it?

i thought it

will save me.

so where did

everything

go?

1 Comment

Filed under Poetry

letters to pluto

hearts of monochrome

all lined in a tome

stamps staring as you

open the envelope

letters of chromaticicity

plucked from stars

and they spin and spiral

like skin with scars

colliding, our eloquence

in myriad nonsense

the girl with hopes to say

on inky parchment

you are a pluto in a solar

system of dreams

never one to be noticed

but no one forgets

your place in the sky, it seems.

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry