Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
astronaut Apr 2015
I live in poetry
Even if I can't live off of it
-I need a job, man.
-You're a lit. major... you will never get one.

also, **** the government.
astronaut Apr 2015
Water has no color
Water has to scent
Water has no texture
Water has no taste

No color paste can be made without water
No aroma, perfume or sweat, can smell without water
Rough lands are soften into soil through water
All meals are cooked and all drinks are made through water

It's the most simple words
that create complex worlds

In plainness lies poetry.
Kitsch take two
astronaut Apr 2015
Every night..
I tuck my heart in,
and sing it lullabies of smiles and light.
I caress it softly to sleep. .to sleep into tenderness
and to wake up lite

Every morning..
I wake up to my heart
broken, and sat on fire burning.
The gentle night will always fail to help
a heart that keeps on yearning


Every night, I pick my heart back up, and mold it with careful hands as I softly kiss all its scars
Every morning, my heart falls into the void you left, and shatters into pieces as many as the stars
kitsch (N): an object, or a piece of art, that is of poor quality due to excessive sentimentality and cheesiness, but is appreciated for the same reason.
  Apr 2015 astronaut
Tawanda Mulalu
And then I thought that
those big, endless dark spaces
between the stars in the night sky
had to mean Something

besides

how much nothing is in
Nothing.
I was in the car, talking to my mother... then I looked out the window.
  Apr 2015 astronaut
Ben Walker
My watch whispers faithfully the turning of the universe
The trees breathe in static silence outside my window
The wind caressing their bodies, like a cold serpent
Their red leaves falling like tears

Humanity sleeps, waiting for the morning
Waiting for the fresh, the new, the different
Waiting for their prospects of rebirth to be realised
Waiting for the sun to bleed colours of crimson and coral over the silent sky

But nothing ever changes

The cycle repeats itself
Agony is poured down Earth’s open wound
Like acid
Melting away at what we once cherished

When will it end?
When the last creature cries for their fallen mother?
When the last tree falls from the vicious storm?
When the last scream echoes through the barren wasteland that we created?

The sun anxiously peers over the horizon
Humanity exploits the new day

Work
Play
Live
Die

The rhythm of the universe beats like the breath of trees
The evanescence of life pulses like the veins of the universe
Gone in a moment
Gone

But not forever
astronaut Apr 2015
I have unfolded the great blue starry napkin, I have held and beheld all the secrets of the universe.. all the love there is, all the beauty there is, all the warmth, all the art, all the truths.


I have unfolded the great blue starry napkin and I have seen it stretch and stretch beyond my hands, my arms, and the full length of my body to form an ocean.

Then the gods above sent a storm and so have begun the whirlpool, and I have seen it stretch and stretch beyond the ocean, beyond the skies, and beyond the gods that dwell within them to form an eye.

I have seen your beautiful blue starry eyes, and I have unfolded them.
astronaut Apr 2015
I am a wanderluster. My cells are incapable of remaining intact. Every single atom in me is constantly roaming the uni-verse and conflating with all its beauty, constantly becoming it, and constantly providing it with the chance to become through myself.

I am not carefree. I am not balanced. I feel intensely, and I like it.
I am. And my beingness is a gravitational field, pulling the everythingness of everything into me.
I am..

And with all its interactivity, my existence is serene. I am emollient. I am a beauty, light, warmth, and sincerity seeker. I, the universe, am one with myself.
Next page