our unwavering frog chorus chirps sweet incense of these at last amorous summer nights with joyous voices that are surely singing songs of devotion to la Luna and her silver eyes that watch over this garden of the cosmos with cloud eyelids that cause her wondrous beam to flicker in and out of perception as if dappled by trees; eyes that are nothing but the reflection of all of infinity’s stars projecting themselves in every direction through the expanse of dark matter in a quest to witness (or be witnessed by) the infinitesimal percentage of atoms in the universe that have become conscience; atoms perhaps unfairly concentrated on this one marvelous rock that has been bestowed with the gift of that elixir of life that is the bonding of hydrogen and oxygen; a rock that flies along at a breakneck speed while its inhabitants are able to feel so incredibly still:
we assemblage of friends are so very perfectly still in time together collected on this backyard blanket where like the thicket our legs and arms entangle, and invisibly our minds entangle too until we are bonded chemically in some ineffably complex emotion it would be fitting to label love; and as faces turn silhouette in the night, it’s as if we have on this steadfast square decomposed back into the smallest building blocks of matter; splendid flesh broken into atoms, lips and hands, hearts and brains, all dissolved into this collective pool of consciousness where we each understand one another’s aches and ecstasies in this world, and in the frog’s chirpings we hear that the world understands too, and we think ‘thank our transcendental creator for the stars that watch over us, because how else would we know that we’re alive?’
the foolish men who went to the moon found not a glittering paradise but a grey desert, and when they found this to be true marveled not at the moon but at the heart breaking sight of Earth’s entirety; for here is the only place where the stars can truly appreciate life and where life can truly appreciate the stars.
Because you color my thoughts
with beautiful vibrant colors
Because your smile and approval
shining deep in your eyes
beautify me
Because your support and love
disperse dark shadows
of my insecurity
Because with you by my side
I am strong
and my world is not
scary anymore
You have
my unwavering loyalty
and love
~Natasha~
Cue the curtain
sound the song
she takes the stage
unwavering, headstrong
all of her soul
on this unabashed floor
knows every step
each after and before
but the crowd is antsy
and the white noise is hovering
and the hand of the man working the spotlight
shakes unsteady as he
texts his girlfriend
the camera man yawns
and the little boy sitting next to me
tugs his moms sleeve
for a snack
the dancer on stage
prevails
this is her world
all she knows
is the arch in her back
as she
makes love to the floor
sweeps of ribbon and silk
caressing
the fold of her body
to the riff of the ballad
she is one
she is all
she is shining
her body tells a story
and I watch captivated
with bated breath
entwined in this love story of beauty and suffering
while the camera man yawns
and the guy working the spotlight
used this time
to text his girlfriend
Gone for a while, but stuck in the moment
Try to hold back, try not to show it
Her unwavering compassion and subtle flair
I can't help but to stop and stare
That smile of hers is freedom's light
Timeless eternal, an endless sight
Beautiful angel, she is worthy of love
A true sign of the One above
I was alive
through days of hunger
nights of thirst
when the sky was lost
I huddled beneath fallen arches
waiting for a sign
when our brethren fell
through frozen winters
I cursed patiently
the heavens they gazed at
trembling, undying
a stigmata of the universe.
Wandering alone
for countless years
I learned more of
the novelty of my creation
no rumors that seem fitting
no weapons worth killing
an abomination of karma
some called savior
others called Satan
through bloodshed
and the darkness of man
I’ve survived as a testament
to all their failures.
In the books they wrote
in the stories they told
I have passed briefly
subtly in and out
from the days of black sun
to now a solar eclipse
unwavering, the flame of life
still burns bright in me
I am alive
I am immortal.
Who is she?
She strolls across the moon and makes the earth slave to her beauty.
She turns the tempest aside and commands the elements to dance to the lacy whims of her muse.
Delicate is her smile yet strength her true mantle, unwavering and immovable, like the roots of a mountain or the implacable stare of the tsunami.
Grace becomes her as unlike she, there exists no example of such.
Flames may dance and the stars may shine and glitter, yet both are less in her presence, desire consuming them in unparalleled jealousy of her radiance.
How she haunts my every step and casts her darkness across my path, a more futile existence I may never know, this pursuit of the unknowable.
Fleeting this reality becomes and into dreams I ascend, praying beyond all gods that she blesses some world, fictitious or temporal, believable or buried in hideous lies,
with her footsteps.
Silence becomes my mind, the hum of thought ceases and the hot, burning spike of ruination is driven deep into my heart.
Lost without the slightest inkling of rescue or recourse,
in a fathomless valley on a foreign rock,
orbiting an alien sun, fails to mar the target registered
as the stand-in visual for this devil of loss lodged in the usual vacancy of my chest.
Bereft of the glory entertained by loving her as my purpose foreordained,
I've forgotten the taste of life and bartered with the unworthy.
My smile stole and the light hidden in my eyes snuffed out, I tarry on the cusp of eternal darkness, courting my eradication instead of my enlightenment, wishing on a fallen anything that this timeline isn't frozen still in diamond and unforgiving.
In the mornings,
I make a crown of daisies
to remind myself that I am in fact worth it,
fit for a queen,
the stems woven tightly together,
an unwavering reminder of the encouragement from the ones stronger than I,
yet still enduring this same hurt.
As the day progresses,
the stems loosen,
the flowers wither,
and, similarly,
so does my belief that I matter.
You're waiving your white flag
With less than enough effort
To convince me you are done.
I know your heart is desheveled, crumpled
Into a ball of torn misery between
What to do with me.
You need space, you can't fathom space.
You need time, you won't take the time.
You need peace, I make it hard to obtain that.
So if you feel a force underneath your elbow,
Pushing your arm high enough to see
That you're waiving that flag in my face,
Know it's me pushing you there.
Know I'll hold your elbow there for so long,
And walk away once you have enough strength to keep it there.
I'll push your elbow up
So you can push me away,
And walk down the path you've been hesitant to tread.
Hold strong with that white flag,
Keep it high enough so I can see it in the distance
As I look back at you, up tall and unwavering.
This feeling- more blunt
more even, with the unwavering power of gravity
like trying to breathe in torrential rain
and I can't explain why, simultaneously
I feel giddy, feel like crying
I want that rain to pour down
so I can drown in it-
is different than any feeling
that has ever snuck up on me
and pushed me, kicking and screaming,
into its van.
So what I am not saying at all
is that I-
well, what I won't tell you,
dark chimes and blackbirds, is
I am in smoke and winter,
red clay mixed with rain, love,
wind flying through tall yellow grass,
with you
and it scares the shit out of me.
Shooting upward, branching out
Touching the clouds, hundreds of miles long
Stairs circling, bark and branches
Three levels of mystical place
The first, the strongest
Yet still miles high
Working, alive, laboring all day, all night
Never resting, for if they stop
It all falls
Forced to move with the Earth
Or become apart of it
Constantly building the legs
Legs which help the city stand tall
Legs which keep the city connected as one
The second, the heaviest
Yet the weakest
Memories, burdens, woes, never passing
Never forgetting, for if they do
The past, haunting, daunting, taunting
Always waiting for a laspe, a gap
If it arises, reattached to ball and chain
No key, but free
Only if they stay never forgetting
Guardians of the past
Guardians from woes
The third, the fealty to nature
Yet the vessel of free will
Irrational, Persistant, Impulsive
Never giving a second thought
Acting out the will of the its lord
Acting out to fulfill its own will
Never wavering, steadfast, determined
Pulsing, coursing through the veins
Driving the city towards desire's wants
This city, standing tall, unwavering
Never stop working, Never forgetting
Always moving towards desire's call
Until end's goal reached
Until it's counterpart met
Then shall the city stop
Then shall the city forget
Then shall the city sleep,
But no longer alone.
