nobody gives a ****
about poetry
or books
charles bukowski
or siddhartha
nobody gives a ****
about the universe
or extra terrestrials
carl sagan
or that we are stardust
nobody gives a ****
about Led Zeppelin
or Pink Floyd
Joni Mitchell
or Nirvana
nobody gives a ****
except for me

Communication technology recognition

Reformation in monopoly contortions

Feel the attuned tunes from satellites

Setting light like an antenna televised

Usher prolific hologram vised in vision

Bid manipulation bye to new world neon’s

Motivation from free thought movement

Commendations cemented in another time-zone

Complement to comment for extra terrestrials

Electrical vibrations moving from wired modems  

Floating up above the skies, a heaven end  

All life become a past tense lie, come lie

A dead fantasy for the oars ain’t tacky

The most surreal reality, the stability, an ability

Congeniality, this is an alien evasion, adaptability

Figure a boxer on the ring, trenching victory

An agility the accessibility to the victorious flag

Tracing admissible tunes, planking in a cool challenge

The heroic and not hectic hologram check the angiogram

Its not a diagram, but a radiant heart an earthy soul

Am a do anything, buffing myself to do anything

Ain’t a deal rocking the crowd in crazy clouds

Breaking the underground like a Fujita F Scale tornado

Ronaldo tormenting the ball in a field with F clef societal

Social control and orders, tormenting the ****** to extraordinaire, an extradite

Streaming live make you believe like you can live for real

Stratifications, ****** classes and sewn mobility

Chasing dreams in the winds deeply wheeled in a well

Be well as we sink  so deep to seek and hold the dense

The essence of the whirlwind, it’s a seep through static

This rollercoaster an aspiration to inspire then perspire

Ever higher, from the root to crown charkra, a tantra

Annata,the ascending holographic magnetic hero

Tuning visions to dreamers and travellers

Hold my hand as we sink underneath the stratums

No sputum, just headphones.... a culture, it’s the new age soul

i've always liked space.
the idea of exploring
the final frontier; beyond
and into everything.
when i was in university
i wanted to be an astronaut
with a literature degree—
i thought hey,
why take maths and science
up there, but not language?
not poetry?
it's all well and good if we meet aliens,
but what will they know of us
without first knowing how we love?
i would bring a book of love poems
to the extra-terrestrials
and explain that the finest human condition
is one of devotion.
science got us upwards,
but love gave us the idea.

i'll never be an astronaut.
i think some people are destined
to become the dust that made us;
that shaped us. some of us
are our mother's children,
born on earth to die here too,
but we dream. what are we
if not made of dreams?

at night, i look at the moon.
sometimes, it is so big and full
that my heart swells with it.
my chest bursts like i've stepped
into the light of a space station
without a space suit.
that tiny little moment before death,
in which i am one with the universe,
and it makes me so small.

but, oh. out—
out into the glow of a thousand suns.
little poet in the wide universe,
loving his way upwards.
loving someone so much
that he understands
what it feels like to take
such a great leap.

with her, i know the stars.

manual laborers all present

ready to begin

heart, liver, lungs, stomach

all here

ready to begin



each piling up bricks one by one

stacking them on top of each other

manual labor taking

seconds

          minutes

                    days

                          years



time flying by as the bricks keep piling up

held tightly by violet veins

squeezing the bricks close and tense



finally

after a decade of organic construction

a wall stands as tall as china's

visible by extra terrestrials on a distant world



but what was not visible was the familiar natural disaster

that stormed in from behind

coming in from the blind spot



this friendly natural disaster shook down the wall

it cut the veins with violent blades

and left to continue with its destruction of construction



the heart, liver, lungs, and stomach

watched their masterpiece crumble

down

into the earth.

Different
lines on the thermometer,
when it happens,
it moves all by itself.

Deliberately
random restless waters,
terrestrials standing on their banks,
recidivists having deposits
and withdrawals
at an inflated rate.

Dungeoneering
--the amplified gesture
means a convenience charge,
elevate me later.

Defibrillation,
I'm on the existential end
of viral paradise,
"the files you have on me"
are a trail of stolen pebbles,
sure to inoculate my final
walk into the sea.

That little alien told me he could
Come to our Earth in his ufos half a second
Leave without making a sound
The locals wonder them Martians up above the ground

You may share my poems

Copyright 2018 Joyce Joadiyce

I know that we are flesh and blood;
We're bound terrestrials.
There is not a hint nor thought
In me, celestial.
And yet the final day they found
You were ephemeral,
I raised my eyes towards the skies
And sought the aerials.
I hoped the blessed, holy book
In truth, was literal.
The yearning, needing wanting hole
Was raw and pitiful.
In vain I combed the cobalt spans
For proof reciprocal
Of an eternal, lasting love
From the ethereal.
My opulence in obstinence
Brought truth from empty skies
The swirling air, the ash and dust
Is only where you fly.
There is no golden field of wheat
And barley where we'll meet
There is no paradise where I
Will once more hear you speak.
The last known home where you reside
Exists in no known creed
You live now in the dreams and thoughts.
That bring you back to me.

We are the celestials,
Different from these terrestrials,
Above such things *******,
I'm an old age girl,
You are my world,
I love you to the moon
And beyond, none too soon,
We wander as stars,
Orbiting afar,
In universe above,
Endless divine love,
Deep in galaxies,
Across time and centuries,
Above the terrestrials,
We are the celestials......

creepy moss that hide in dark spots
on creaked roads and river ponds
slimy green and even brick red
they are the first terrestrials ...or so , Ive read

the stages in which a fish walks on land
or  how earthquakes move continents
and how movements cause formation of land
that millions of cells died regenerated to birth new plan

that stars died for earth to be reborn ..
that there is no right or wrong
that i have no such a purpose but to exist
that life is an empty and a meaningless abbis

that the rays of the sun so colorfully stream  
are shooting down at precision speed
that the rotation and direction of our earth spins
in nothing but chances ......by them we live

although facts upon facts , they reach
never coming to conclusions , they teach ....


how can we just be
an anomaly of evolution and astrophysics
how can we be
so complex ...feel ?(thoughts , emotions , ideas ?..)
or is it just chemicals that control our
actions and the turning of the wheels ?

El Matrona waits on the children of the earth to learn of the gate to heaven is through her, safe and ever open. It was placed on earth by her beloved. The youth on earth as well as all pure righteousness enters in to make the light grow ever stronger to unite the love of her life to her once again for all eternity. How she hungers for his touch separated from his being to aid man and others in there justification to their lord and god. The army is surrounding her to protect the temple of the one true god she will never change her course through time or dimensions but may turn to dust before the land turns back. Her love sustains her through out time, holding onto what she was given she lunges forward to her given task like a babe to the breast. Her heart weighs nigh as a feather for her joy is his return. The children gather round her with abundant laughter, giving her continuous hope running through her veins like sunshine in the darkest of night. Silent tears run across the valley of her heart like a fissure of stone rending sand through the hourglass of time in the mortal world which sends shivers down her body. Years pass as she now must age as a mere mortal no longer held at bay by the darkness befriended in the making of a soul readied for the task at hand. El Matrona now knows which way due north points and why it must be fulfilled. She has reveled it throughout out many lifetimes given her by the saints which now she has become. Even the terrestrials envies her station and must obey her king. T’is the year of the lord and all will feel the judgment of the shekhinah through the angel metatron. Ive been her long and haven given many messages unheard, all must listen now for we have not long to endure before the great changes occur. I say unto you Love is the greatest of all things believe in him that made you and he will save you, confess with your heart and mouth your sins, he will free you. Ask and he will give unto you the way. For I am the door to the way, reach for me and you will receive him for who receives me receives him that sent me. Peace be unto you all as love from the great MOTHER and WIFE of the KING lives and breathes in Metrona immortal.