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Literature Text
Seeking a parallel in quietus
from the smoking fields of nebulae
where I could see all there is,
while reality floats,
its distance doubling with the
passing of each second.
To discover there are no grasslands,
that there never was a serenity
and how lonely I am for that.
Only the tundra of planets
with equators untouched
by their inner engines
in an existence unchanged through
the fish-eye lens of light years with
tilted skull caps lined up like dominoes.
from the smoking fields of nebulae
where I could see all there is,
while reality floats,
its distance doubling with the
passing of each second.
To discover there are no grasslands,
that there never was a serenity
and how lonely I am for that.
Only the tundra of planets
with equators untouched
by their inner engines
in an existence unchanged through
the fish-eye lens of light years with
tilted skull caps lined up like dominoes.
Literature
Aura: The Redemption
Aura: The Redemption
You, the selfless protector who is responsible for my redemption
-
Lending your strong, gentle hands whenever needed
Even if the limits of your mind are exceeded
You wouldn't let anyone be truly defeated
Erasing the definition of: Victim
Handing over strength to the ones that are weakened
Holding onto those whose grips are slowly loosening
You know nothing of greed
It's never for your own benefit
Forever passing on the luxury of relief
And you never have anything left to resent
Your hope is boundless / Your love is timeless
Your sympathy is limitless / Your resolve is endless
You always try your best
Taking on ever
Literature
Secondhand Moonlight
A dingy harem, scattered with junkies,
Stinking of lust and dusty Forget-Me-Nots
A black-veiled, crimson-lipped beauty
Night-haired and spacey-eyed
Purple painted nails laced with cigarette smoke
And a stubby cigarette laced with moonlight
Skulks to my side and burns a hand on my thigh
Age is creeping up her legs
And her panties smell of other men
And a bold-faced tattoo of last month's rent
Is stamped across her feverish forehead
Paper-thin desperation and two mouths to feed with a top hat on top
But the champagne tastes like honey and smells like jazz
You want to dance, Baby Girl?
So I jive with the Shadows and their Whores
Choking o
Literature
Obsolete
Obsolete.
Everyone is too wrapped in their own lives to even care about yours.
But what they fail to remember is that this earth is only the first of many floors.
Tears cascade, smiles appear and fade while the universe continues to ignore,
As they impatiently knock and wait outside life's man made divisible door.
So when they become to self involved in the successes of their own cause.
Just remember this world,
This univ
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qui·e·tusˌkwīˈēdəs/ noun
Death or something that causes death, regarded as a release from life.
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Comments16
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I love this poem. Honestly I do!
What I love most about this poem is that... vicarious indifference portrayed in the sadness of stanza three and four. Its as if the person doesn't belong here at all... as if their alien, and because of this alien presence they are only going to inevitably bleach upon what makes this world so worthwhile...
A light shining out upon empty space, where everything is as completely overwhelmed in a vacuum, as it is complete absolution and freedom put in such... a state as space (with repeated ripplings of history).
A beautiful poem... a very beautiful poem worth reading, and worth contemplating over. Bravo!