Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Thera Lance Aug 9
I
He has hands and feet now.
And eyes that can close off the world to such a limited view.
  Look at the sun and it is bright,
  Even when the sky shifts to his other sight,
  That warps the fabric of space into view.
  Gravity bends around and around the star burning above,
  Trapping his gaze under its twisting fire.
He forces the vision away, blinking
Once and then twice, then thrice while it lingers.

He breathes in and out
Tucks back a strand of hair glowing red even if there wasn’t light.
Humans see the brightness,
The nameless shade slipping through their thoughts
Slithering down their necks, causing the hair to rise.
When it catches his eye,
When he lets it catch his eye
The dying red star, the one he wasn’t finished slurping down,
Glimmers in those strands of hair.

II
Once, a very long time ago yet so recently in his memory,
There was a hole, gaping and black
Not quite as empty as humans like to pretend that they are.
Stars and planets, bits of rock with life clinging to the surface
Sliding down, down, down what was once a mouth.
That’s all, everything he was, only a mouth to devour.
Until—

His hands clench.
His hands, his feet, his eyes
The mouth closed so very tight
Even if past the lips only round little teeth reside and not
A bottomless abyss.
He might be wrong about that, though
Never could quite build the courage to face a mirror and open wide,
To see if that echoless emptiness still waits inside this carbon-construction of a body.  

He breathes in and out, feels the air slip into lungs
And out again unlike those stars and planets from so long ago.
How was it? How did he become like this?
During that time when his appetite was vast,
Yet he couldn’t have been larger than a drop of ink on a page.
How did he grow, yet become so contained
That the light can strike off this form and not fall into him forever like it did then.

III
There once was an item of science and a priest of old—
The light, the light that doesn’t fall in like the other rays slips its fingers
Into the maw, pulling its jaw open to the point that it
Cracks and realizes that
Its eating, that’s what it—he is doing
That’s all he’s doing, and he wants more
Not more to eat, but more to existing.
And the light pulls out the half-eaten star,
Weaving the red and the orange and the yellow
Into strands that settle past shaking shoulders.

The memory of what he once was presses down upon him as
He wraps his arms around
Those shoulders that only shiver now
Under the weight of boundaries
That keeps the people walking by from falling into him.
He looks back up
Searching for the light that molded him into this shape.
The sun is too dim though, the rays brushing too weakly against his face
To be whatever god forced him into human limbs.
Who needs character notes and outlines when you can just write a poem. In other words, this is a brief and self-contained concept poem about the personification of a black hole.
Zack Ripley Mar 2021
I'm not as concerned with what
I leave behind
As much as I am about
who I leave behind.
Because when I die,
it'll be like I'm blind.
And as much as people
can be black holes,
People can also be
the sun, moon, and stars;
Ready to help you wherever you are.
So that's why I want to live.
Not just for me;
but to stand beside someone
Who stands by me.
Jason Feb 2021
Ladies and gentlemen,

Please keep your arms and legs

Safely inside the poetry at all times.

Please don't fall into the black hole,

We know it's very attractive,

But our insurance rates will just be unmanageable

If we lose another one...
©02/26/21 Jason R. Michie All Rights Reserved
Alice Jan 2021
there was always a darkness in him.
the light that she so easily shone,
disappeared in the black hole cut in the
middle of his chest.

he never gave it back
Traveler Nov 2020
Moving faster
Than perpetual motion
My awareness  jetlagged  
By cosmic gamma waves
Impure tainted toxic
Environments
A spirrowling array
Of wayward souls
Vibrating really low
Unfortunately

My witness
A sporadic blackhole
Blinking in and out of existence
My spirit a fragmented broken sky
A partial day and a long night


For tonight
I'll drink a beer
And live the lie
That this dream of life
Shall never die

+ t +
              Traveler
Traveler Tim
White Shadow Sep 2020
It's three in the morning,
I'm sitting at the balcony,
Looking at the sky,
The stars are twinkling,
The moon lightens the area.
Suddenly a feeling of loneliness hits me,
It makes me realize that I am similar to that moon,
That shines when we see from far,
But actually is dark as a black hole.
And suddenly I realized water drop falling from my eyes.
k e i Aug 2020
the hamper’s starting to spill, week-old clothes pooling on the floor. the sink’s in need of getting drained, rotten food debris floating in mucky dishwater. dried leaves await to be picked out from the plants by the kitchen window. parcels are left unopened by the porch. notifications simultaneously ping as i turn on my phone, urgent messages left unreplied.

the room’s ever bathed in the dark, light unable to filter through as twilight starts, time i’d remain unaware of had my alarm not gone off. i’ve gotten by with chips for three days now, the 1L soda bottle nearly empty. a week ago i was supposed to start working on a project due two days from now i’ve gotten so far as mapping out a concept but i’m still looking for the will to tick off step one;
the will to get up, make the bed, put on clothes that aren’t rumpled or three-day-old like these jeans that i still have on.

i try to give myself another one of my “TEDtalks”, a rundown analyzation of things to go through how i’ve arrived to this colossally sinking feeling. but all that my mouth can coherently gather are year-long sighs. the teddybears propped by the corner of my bed, their black beaded eyes seem to hold more life, their stitched smiles actually formed with meaning. my blanket rests by the corner all wrinkled but here i am, sharing one with the dull melancholy dwelling in each heartbeat, babying it. i should brush it off but it clings, like the remnants of stickers you’ve placed on your first ever guitar that remains up to this day.

three days ago i was doing fine, not duly elated like a holiday’s thrill but i was able to joke around, go out, fulfill plans, cope with what the day throws, go home, satisfyingly crack my knuckles at the end of the night. now all the plans have stopped being sublime, “what’s even the point?” the only thing i can offer when they make themselves known.

this isn’t new, sliding in its way effortlessly into routine from time to time but each time it occurs i still get stupefied. like a sailor going down a shipwreck’s trail yet all i do is fling my lifevest off the faraway shore. like trying to find the lightswitch in my bedroom even when there are no lightbulbs installed. like some modus operandi where they hypnotise you and i find myself caught in a trance unable to break free even though i’m well aware of that sort of scheme firsthand.

i catch myself staring at the blackholes growing out from fissures in the walls. it turns into a staring contest dragging on for i don’t know, hours. i don’t know how long truly as clock work becomes fast-paced, mechanical, submerged in space.

alas, the aftermath dawns on in the early hours, ensuing the breakage of a curse years’-worth; i step out, unused to the halo of light. dewdrops form on orchid trees as the city fervently sleeps. the fog has miraculously lifted. relief follows through.
this was inspired by the song daylily by movements
Mark Toney Jul 2020
I'm the Big Dog—VY Canis Majoris
in the Big Dog constellation
that's why you still adore us
Howling loudly—I'm a star!
Among the biggest known to man
Distinctly visible from afar
so don't look for me at Cannes!
I'm an interstella' fella red
hypergiant pulsating fireball
which drives the ladies mad!
Living large in the Milky Way G
I'm bright and sizzlin' hot as can be
Full of soul, a potential black hole
So move it on ova' while I supernova!


© 2020 Mark Toney.  All rights reserved.
7/1/2020 - Poetry form: Personification - This flight of fancy packs star power! - © 2020 Mark Toney.  All rights reserved.
Cox Jun 2020
They were a pair,
two stars on the verge of colliding in the galaxy,
their love pulled them together like a black hole.
Their disagreements threaded them through it.
Next page