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Isaace Feb 17
The Wyg burns the separate strands above a wooden pyre.
The Wyg ushers in The Line.

Mixing new colours with a robotnik slave-hand,
The Wyg manipulates The Line as no other in existence has done before or since—
Except, Exalted Ditko,
He who studied with
Exalted Paul Rubens.

The Wyg pays credence to the commeroration of Mars,
Watching over its distant skies and hallowed sand dunes,
Which burn as only fires can;
But those of us with eyes where eyes ought to be
Can only see the embers that scatter across the land
As hallowed, red Mars-chalk.

In communication with the Mars Moth-Man,
On the nights where Earth-glow streaks across exalted Azuul,
The Wyg scrapes Mars Moth-Man's moth wings for the powder of the scales
And uses the powder for hallowed rites of manifestation.
Only in the temples of Azuul can one conjure The Line, and many materials are required.
David Cunha Feb 7
Like rats, lab confined
Like fish, water confined
Like blood, vessel confined
Like children, perception confined

There are stars we'll never reach,
Spaces we'll never meet
Forms we'll never greet
The Universe expands faster than our growth

Faster than light, perhaps -- we're in a cosmic cage.
- David Cunha
july 15, 2022
10:42 a.m.
arsonpoet Oct 2022
when i think of it, i am all but nothing. a tiny speck of dust in this big world vying to survive. all of our deed, whether it be associated with feeling or emotions feel so incomplete. i wish our existence had more to it. when i look at the stars i feel that someone else might be looking at them too. i feel close to this person whom i do not even know. we are all mindless human beings, existential entities. maybe it is time we shed our skin thorough the leaks and cracks the universe has provided us. because we are so much more than just feelings, emotions and metaphors.
Crow Aug 2022
towards paradise

fingertips streaming
spirals of howling light

beyond the speed of ecstasy
flying blind

knowing unseen
the unbroken strand
that binds two
through boundless halls
of celestial wonder

skimming across astral seas
split the surface
peel back the facade
plunge beyond the deep

spread your wings
for me

envelope me

ride the cresting wave
rushing inside of you
through my tantric eye

we coruscate
and transmute
constantly becoming

infinitely and intricately

Singularity - A thing forming a complex whole
Mystic Ink Plus Aug 2022
I have come so far

Talk to me
Till the morning sun
Genre: Inspirational
Theme: Good Morning All
Author's Note:
About something
And everything
As a metaphor
Or a symbol
Till faith will follow
On a soul level
cher Jul 2022
i am the universe
come alive, come conscious,
and what is sentience but
a mystery living at the base
of all that we can ever be?
what a strange dichotomy,
how insignificant, and yet
spectacular! inconceivable beauty.
my life is a verse in the cosmic poetry
constructed out of explosive nothing,
a vast vacuum littered with
unknowable everythings.
what to me is familiar idiosyncrasy,
the everyday routine of my wakings
was arbitrarily designed by some intricate,
equation unsolvable, navier-stokes
nothing compared to the machinations
of the minute turbulent eddies
from the swirling currents in my bloodstream
to the patterns formed by astronomical dances
debris and space dust.
so how is it then that in my miniature
dollhouse of a life, am i languished?
i look up through the pollution,
through the night sky, and think
of how much i long to simply bask
in the beautiful artistic whimsy
the universe has let me into,
to embark on the philosophical,
the insurmountable task to uncover
the myriad of deep secrets locked now
for i am the universe come conscious.
its the first poem i've written in a while. a deviation from my usual subject matter.
Patrick Apr 2022
First one death,
The Old destroyed.
Reborn anew,
Unto two,
Those two combined,
And with it life.

He has read the holy scriptures,
He's learned the myths abroad.
He's lived and breathed among every star,
Yet still He felt so lost.

He's seen the Cosmic Maw,
He's wandered the Abyss,
He's looked under every grain of sand,
But even still,
Somehow He missed.

Until that night?
A blinding light?
This lady?
This Heavenly Light?

She extended her hand,
Her smile like a sun,
and embraced this lost creature,
Who had been born on the run.

She was human and more, Broken and healed.
She was a beautiful unknown in a world of guilt.
She was a treasured sunrise over a blossoming world,
She was the most amazing thing I have ever felt, held or heard.

My philosopher's fire,
My alchemical catalyst.

As if suddenly articulate,
I could embrace those around.
I learned of more than survive and drown;
I learned more of myself.

The groundwork finally laid,
With equal parts Her help,
He finally was here to stay.
I could finally live and play.

First one death,
The Old destroyed.
Reborn anew,
Unto two,
Those two combined,
And with it my life.
The Earth trembled
As the rabbits marched down
With strange twisted muskets
and fangs in their Cowles.
You can hear the cry’s of crows lost crowds
who have obviously sent them around
to hop one by one
to lead you into the cold lonely ground
Where you can only watch
As the works of man
Are razed to the ground
Odd mind
Tony Tweedy Nov 2021
Two hundred billion galaxies, trillions upon trillions of stars,
And to reinforce our insignificance we search still for life on Mars.

We look upon a heaven so vast there is no rocket we could send,
that in a hundred thousand lifetimes could it ever near its end.

Twenty billion Earths scattered across all of time and space,
stupid to think we could be alone and its all about this place?

For over nine billion years the universe survived without our sun,
is it real to think when we arrived universal purpose had just begun?

The universe did not wait for us its evolution just carries on,
and so it will be in future times when all memory of us is gone.
explains itself
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