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Phia Oct 19
My love,
Are a walking galaxy.
So full of beauty,
And passion.
My love,
Are a walking miracle;
The entire cosmos in a single being.
My love,
Have the universe in your eyes,
The stars in your soul,
And stardust in your bones.
My love,
Are brilliant in every way.
Remember that the next time
Anyone makes you feel
Any less than what you are
Paul Butters Sep 18
Some say we all live in a “Multiverse” –
A myriad of universes
All parallel to one another
Invisible to us
Apart from our own universe
Wondrous as it is.

So in some other universe there is
Another version of yourself,
Where you turned right at some junction
Instead of left
And had a serious accident
Instead of winning the lottery.
Or nothing much happened
Or Everything.

Even my own fertile imagination
Is floored
By the endless possibilities here.
My mind is truly boggled
Fit to explode.

For every tiny insect in our universe
Might fly right
Or left
Or not at all
To thus create another universe.

I could write an epic poem on this.
To think that somewhere out there
I may be Immortal, or a King, or Rock Star
Or even about to be Executed
If not already dead.
And you might be these things too.

Versions of ourselves might live in universes
That echo those of fiction
In worlds such as Narnia, Middle Earth
And that of Star Trek, Star Wars
And Stargate SG One
To name but a few.

Oh to have a TV Remote
Like the fictional “Sliders”
To take us from this realm
To any other of our choice.
Or a “Uniscape”:
A machine like a Tardis
Which can take us to any place
Or time
Or universe
Or Other Multiverse???

My head is aching now.
My mind explodes
Like The Universe
And The Multiverse
Or Multiverse of Multiverses.
So I’d better stop
Before this becomes an epic
And my head explodes.

But, meanwhile, in another universe
I didn’t stop!!!

Paul Butters

© PB 18\9\2023.
This is what I'm all about!!!
Spicy Digits Sep 11
I am going to pluck that illuminated corner of the night sky
and graft it to my palm.
I am sorry, precious sky, that we have been so distant
for so long.
xjf Aug 22
Regardless of my choice of origin
Whether I'm a bipedal ape,
or molded out of clay and rib
I sense it fruitless
To let the complexities of the cosmos
cause me strain

It does me no good
To give unrelenting effort
to a greed-like god
named “Understanding”

I am to wonder and wander
I am to live and love
I am to dance and ponder
To be free
of what's above
She is
in the little,
endless hums
of the night,
they are
soft spoken
in the
wind by the
poet’s pen
in stroke of
the fabric of
pages with
written by
hums of the
deep sea
arms of
the cosmos
in a flower
in the eyes
of the one
who have
the dark
to cherish
the light,
in bloom,
she rises
from the
drifted by
the seas of
the moon
to the
she rests,
the tides
until the
sun is in
the earth
stars, the
sleep and
they too, are
irinia Jul 23
a protest against emptiness?
the failure of forgetting the beginning of touch?
an unanswered question?
the sky inside the roots of trees?
the desert inside the heart of rain?
the dreams of the heat of the earth inside cold stones?
an uninterrupted dance of absence and semantics?
the memory of photons from the moment of conception?
the steam of bodies in the quiet air?

what if love is this cosmic urgency,
emergence with myriad faces,
a protest against the liveliness of
irinia Jul 10
The true poem is not the work of the individual artist, it is the universe itself, the one work of art which is forever perfecting itself.

Ernst Cassirer, from "An essay on Man"
The entirety of my being is trapped in the cosmos of all things — of you.
The morning dew greeted me today with the ache of yesterday, or perhaps the certainty of "what was once mine."
There was a receipt in my hands, where grief was found and the silence felt like love letters delivered in front of my door, and I was told, "It’s June; no one is kind."
A week from now, it will be June. Followed by the same day, but it will be July, and then next, August.
Absence of green.
The sun bleached my skin.
Amber sky.
Tears of joy.
There was a time when I thought being trapped in the cosmos of all things was part of being loved, loving, giving chances, and breathing.
But it’s exhausting; nobody has yet to answer this call — or perhaps the center of this letter is written for you. Mostly because I have yet to find the reason why you can’t put out the fire in me.
So I could grow cold and wither and paint my soul an endless winter — but it’s so cold, and I have got to deal with that.
And there you are, away from the shore. It’s night again, but it’s still June, and my heart is still in silence.
"Grief is your receipt that you actually loved," I said, giving myself a little pat on the back. I’ve tried everything to keep it all together. This time, I’ll allow myself to let things happen and show myself a little mercy. I deserve it.

I hope June will be kind to you.
Eera Apr 2
Let me daydream in this cosmic abyss,
and lose myself in its magic and bliss.
For in the space between stars and dreams,
anything is possible, vivid as it seems.
I dream of planets with oceans of gold
and moons with mountains that are extremely cold;
of nebulas that paint the sky in hues,
and black holes that swallow entire views.
Beneath the stars, a deep vast ocean lies,
teeming with life that I can only surmise.
On a distant planet, so far from our own,
an ocean of mystery lies unknown,
with waves that crash upon alien shores,
and secrets that hide beneath the ocean floor.
I sit and gaze into the endless expanse,
and let my mind take an astral chance;
to travel to worlds beyond our own,
where the mysteries of space have yet to be known.
So we made love and flew up into the sky
Where the clouds caressed our shimmering bodies and the stars welcomed us home.
There we stayed, resting...
In silent ecstasy as the universe pulsated with the heartbeat of every soul
Not a sound was heard
As celestial bodies moved in silent ancient accord...

"It is time," We said... at long last
"To return to that place from long ago
Where all is not as it should be
Where confusion holds
And fear abides."

"We must return there,
To walk amongst those who would know the truth
And tell them of the beauty behind the veil."
I wrote this in April 2016. I don't remember writing it or know where the inspiration came from. The first line of the poem read "never forget this place..."
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