Like the river it pulls everything
Of supernovas and pulsars
It matters. It is.
It is, beyond time and space
Love, is everything.
No matter the time and space
Bringing night and day
Pulsating the seas
Super, ecliptical or crescent.
Or on the other side
Strong, relentlesss and beautiful.
i carry my heart and it is full of emotions
and those emotions are like
waterfalls crashing with the momentum of pure gravity but
they are equally the eye of the storm in that
the scenery blurs in ugly destruction but
here all is quiet and serene
i carry my heart with me because
it is too intense, too restless to
wait for me to return from my life's voyage
rather, it shapes the ocean's winds
and guides me across the unforgiving world
i carry my heart everywhere with me.
I have never believed in the principles of physics because they do not apply to girls like me. Girls who disobey Newton's straight-mouthed rules with scarlet leaps of blind faith, girls with hopes soaring past our pastel heavens, never weighed down by any mystical force of gravity measured by dead men. The audacity of the physicist's rotten rules anchoring themselves into thick velvet skin-- as if to stifle the daydreams that keep twirling unpredictably even if acted upon by an unbalanced force. There is no way to silence my momentum, I will keep blooming-- slender hands outstretched toward the flickering sun, past all of the white numerical lies and formulaic cages that ache to confine me. What a perfect contradiction, that a soft-spoken girl can rise at the break of Einstein's miscalculated morning, illuminating the sky with the poetry of her defiance.
She, who loves gracefully without friction. She, whose bones cannot be broken by the laws of heat. She, who keeps herself warm when the cold mathematical wrath of their graves fails to keep her quiet.
You have always dreamed of aviation,
cellophane wings glued to your heartstrings--
my marionette lover of hopes hanging high
enough to abolish the air from heavy lungs.
I watch your cavern chest rise but never fall,
tsunami tides engraved permanently airborne,
intertwining hands with time as suspension
Time does not exist here--only periwinkle
veins illuminated by morning light,
wispy eyelashes beginning their ascension.
You are all light, and altitude, and grace.
I am grounded, tethered to comfort, but
the curvature of your spine breathes sanctuary.
Your shoulders-- broad, significant--
as if to fingerpaint the alpines you will ascend
once the wrath of gravity is conquered.
When your parachute soul finally gathers
enough strength to pilot the destined flight,
I hope you remember to save
a window seat for my heart.
Yes, gravity lets you down,
You gaze at your boobs with a frown,
Belly is in overload,
Why does God make us grow old?
I state this with a frown,
Gravity lets you down,
But, do older men improve with age?
Pot bellies, bald patches, on their stage,
I state this with a frown,
Yes, gravity lets you down!