Marxus - Hello Poetry

Three billion stars, and the naked eye only sees three thousand. But when I look into the night, somehow I only see you. Because like stars belong to the sky, you fill my mind.

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7d ago

May 27, 2026 at 2:07 AM UTC

Three Billion Stars

Three billion stars, and the naked eye only sees three thousand. But when I look into the night, somehow I only see you. Because like stars belong to the sky, you fill my mind.

9

Empty words fill a lot of conversations. I want to talk seriously about matters because that is what matters, but you’d rather laugh, and I understand; I laugh too, until I am empty, and it feels good. But the inevitability of dark clouds confronts even the sunniest days, and when it rains you get angry where I am sad. So everyday is sunny and flowers dry and die until replaced by a fake bouquet. You ask why my words are hollow, I tell you my heart is and from there my words have grown. Things grow best where things have died. You then frown. You’d rather laugh, and I understand.

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7d ago

May 27, 2026 at 1:58 AM UTC

Laugh

Empty words fill a lot of conversations. I want to talk seriously about matters because that is what matters, but you’d rather laugh, and I understand; I laugh too, until I am empty, and it feels good. But the inevitability of dark clouds confronts even the sunniest days, and when it rains you get angry where I am sad. So everyday is sunny and flowers dry and die until replaced by a fake bouquet. You ask why my words are hollow, I tell you my heart is and from there my words have grown. Things grow best where things have died. You then frown. You’d rather laugh, and I understand.

25

Chiseled as much from spaces untouched as the hammer’s strike The statue cries out, bound by it’s synthetic periphery. The CEO walks across marble Hanging his jacket Lips press against either bottle or barrel, Feeling is for the living. Reborn in the duality of a miscarriage Man grows old Descending from woman’s womb stoic His iron fists reach for mother’s *** Earth spins coddling paper thin virility Her soiled hands constantly left to clean The painter paints until easels break Her brush dipped endlessly in vibrant sorrow.

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Apr 8, 2021

Apr 8, 2021 at 1:59 PM UTC

Atlas

Chiseled as much from spaces untouched as the hammer’s strike The statue cries out, bound by it’s synthetic periphery. The CEO walks across marble Hanging his jacket Lips press against either bottle or barrel, Feeling is for the living. Reborn in the duality of a miscarriage Man grows old Descending from woman’s womb stoic His iron fists reach for mother’s *** Earth spins coddling paper thin virility Her soiled hands constantly left to clean The painter paints until easels break Her brush dipped endlessly in vibrant sorrow.

17

Another day in paradise Halos handed out like parking tickets While prophets are corner store common Heaven is only ever in moderation Halos handed out like parking tickets You can buy forbidden fruit half off Heaven is only ever in moderation The tallest building is never tall enough to jump off. You can buy forbidden fruit half off here Take a bite and put it back on the shelf The tallest building is never tall enough to reach paradise So I jumped and I fell. Take a bite and put it back on the shelf there Prophets stand outside corner stores So I jumped and I fell Another day in paradise.

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Apr 4, 2021

Apr 4, 2021 at 12:00 AM UTC

Another Day In Paradise

Another day in paradise Halos handed out like parking tickets While prophets are corner store common Heaven is only ever in moderation Halos handed out like parking tickets You can buy forbidden fruit half off Heaven is only ever in moderation The tallest building is never tall enough to jump off. You can buy forbidden fruit half off here Take a bite and put it back on the shelf The tallest building is never tall enough to reach paradise So I jumped and I fell. Take a bite and put it back on the shelf there Prophets stand outside corner stores So I jumped and I fell Another day in paradise.

16

When I was 5 I got married to the girl down the street who’s name has been lost with time but daisy chain remains vivid. I remember holding hands, while playing pretend. I’m still playing pretend.

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Mar 12, 2021

Mar 12, 2021 at 6:43 PM UTC

20 Years Later

When I was 5 I got married to the girl down the street who’s name has been lost with time but daisy chain remains vivid. I remember holding hands, while playing pretend. I’m still playing pretend.

3

Part of him — the part that confronts painful truths — was hemorrhaging. That night he felt the mass of her every word like crashing waves. He watched the world crack open, and planets collided, as stars died at the tip of her tongue. The pain he felt was what separated earth and heaven — while the love he lost separated hell and earth. — — Both lines were incomprehensibly fine.

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Feb 26, 2021

Feb 26, 2021 at 9:56 PM UTC

Fine Lines

Part of him — the part that confronts painful truths — was hemorrhaging. That night he felt the mass of her every word like crashing waves. He watched the world crack open, and planets collided, as stars died at the tip of her tongue. The pain he felt was what separated earth and heaven — while the love he lost separated hell and earth. — — Both lines were incomprehensibly fine.

3

I write about you like street artists sketch strangers on subways. Using diction only found in the speech of brush strokes. Your water color eyes sink ships like sirens — and I was drowning, watching the kaleidoscopic surface give way to your naked abyss.

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Jul 18, 2020

Jul 18, 2020 at 5:06 AM UTC

Water Strokes

I write about you like street artists sketch strangers on subways. Using diction only found in the speech of brush strokes. Your water color eyes sink ships like sirens — and I was drowning, watching the kaleidoscopic surface give way to your naked abyss.

1

I waded into ineradicable waters. Turbulent, permeant, I baptized in your sexuality. Your curves as symbolic as the cross.

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Jul 18, 2020

Jul 18, 2020 at 4:59 AM UTC

Woman

I waded into ineradicable waters. Turbulent, permeant, I baptized in your sexuality. Your curves as symbolic as the cross.

1

We bit that apple baby, And to see your naked body felt joyful, not sinful. Yet we are born sinners, not lovers, and for that, I never understood.

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Jul 18, 2020

Jul 18, 2020 at 4:57 AM UTC

Lovers

We bit that apple baby, And to see your naked body felt joyful, not sinful. Yet we are born sinners, not lovers, and for that, I never understood.

7

I walked upon earth a man in all my incompleteness — My X-chromosome broken like Adam’s rib. Create music, art, business, governments She said — you will never create life. So under my oppressive virility She remained, the apotheosis of creation — A wildfire caught in a cage.

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Jul 18, 2020

Jul 18, 2020 at 4:47 AM UTC

Virility

I walked upon earth a man in all my incompleteness — My X-chromosome broken like Adam’s rib. Create music, art, business, governments She said — you will never create life. So under my oppressive virility She remained, the apotheosis of creation — A wildfire caught in a cage.

5