Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
  Jul 2023 Richard Shepherd
irinia
the night is darker on your lips
my hips are dreaming while
your touch is searching for its meaning
The Nighttime Skies have altered, altering us…

The nightly showing of twinkling heavens, fulsome,
brimming, as can now be seen but only in a planetarium
program, always was a delight to our ******* citified  
visitors, who received this free reminder of Earth’s  
non-centric role in the universe, happily, for it jived
senses with common sensibility, confirming an assumptive
reality with yes! my-eyes-can-see-it proofs, that many city
folk only hope & assume are yet true someplace  else
‘out there.’

Night light pollution, a life feature just assumed as
a costless cost of doing business of our modern
population distribution, has horrendous mental
consequences for a generation of me-me-me
young ones, who lack the lessons in real awe,
not by way of a video game, but by never having seen a
Milky Way,
constellations and planets
that were so necessary to
critical cortical thinking p,
human beliefs,
re the totality of
existence a mere
two hundred or
so years ago.

The star’s disappearance for so much of our population,
reenforces the notion of our own centricity, get it?

A world centered on the city.

The truer star studded sky knows not
of gender neutrality,
racial disharmony,
through a
“I am not the universe “ perspective,
for in this large than life realer than real
exterior externality,
which why, by the by,
is mega black and white duopoly,
makes who is bigger no better than smaller,
for all but magnified speckles
all now more of a minor
irrelevant relativity.

When all the worlds are watching, not just the world, but
a Universe of unknown worlds are judging, studying us,
and maybe our lives are mighty picayune,
but amore humbled and yet precious, do we not need to be
always on our best behavior?

the fact is that we who are but 80 miles from nyc’s borderline can no longer sky-testify, be reminded of our planetary’s liveliness- uniqueness and our proper place on the largest tapestry
of the always, of the forever, of the
majesty and harmonious coexistence.

I am naive and a proper fool, and I do not know if it is the new smoking of the planet, spread of the seemingly innocuous
city boundaries encroaching on our rural existence, or a new physicality condition that makes our nights a pungent blackened cloud, and that so many can not say of the awesomeness
mystery above us, and think
with humility
our destiny,
our alignment
                         “is in the star’s.”

Alas poor Yorick, even your creator, the poet William Shakespeare, who understood human frailties too well, conceded that,

”it is not in the stars to hold our destiny, but in ourselves.”

But the again,
he could nightly gaze
upon them,
and we cannot!

He also conceded, to attempt to balance
the imbalances of our
visual scales,
and magnetic moral compasses,
writing,

indeed!

”there are more things in heaven and earth*”
  Jul 2023 Richard Shepherd
Lily Mae
The Queen and Princess Treacle
were sitting in the bath
The Queen let off a raspberry
while Princess Treacle laughed

The Princess dropped a hot one
the bubbles like perfume...
the Queen was quite disgusted
and stormed out of the room...

Treacle was quite perplexed
so laughed a little more
'til Queenie shouted oh so loud;
' You filthy royal ***** '

Treacle released a sinister laugh
a ***** she might be...
Yet Philip didn't seem to mind
removing her dungerees

he done her in the palace gardens
late one summer's night
Treacle was but a young lesbian
but he sorted her out alright

As Treacle's secret garden doors were
opened, under the light of the moon...
Queenie did bellow for her corgis
searching from room to room...

but all she found was Philip
shafting Treacle on the lawn
so they had a royal *******
then watched some German ****
mother’s crustiness sometimes
stretches too far
sometimes bleeds fire
and lava runs to scorch mother’s skin

she ignites her anger
warns her children in hellish flows
to keep them safe from
her fumeroles
sacrifices herself to let them
live

and
smiles from her heart eyes
that see it all


c. 2023 Roberta Compton Rainwater
Fumerole: volcanic earth ****
Next page