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pilgrims Jul 2019
Wistfully,
I wish I was watching the world from above
on a white flying fortress floating far away from the flora, fauna,
and the fickle fools who fight for nothing, fruitless.
Up on my cloud, my cleverness creates constructs.
These convey to me knowledge both cerebral and celestial.
This sends me higher, to the cosmos.
There, I get caught in catechisms which force convulsions.
The spinning Sun stares into my silly soul. "Such stupidity!"
Scowling, I scorn the stars.
Further still I ascend, astounding the astral plane.
I acquire it all.
And now I know it is nothing.
Never have my nerves been so wracked.
I weep wildly wishing
for when I was waging war with a woman's warmth.
Oh, Gaia~
Waking up with wet eyes and wounded heart, I stand and walk.
I no longer wonder why.

I'm the anima.
I'm the evil.
I'm the sky.
My oldest poem
Michaela McCune Jul 2019
It is a wonder they still send astronauts to the moon. Maybe it’s just an unsettled longing to find God in the cosmos but it makes me think, what will you feel when you reach those ***** of gas and fire? How can you travel millions of miles for light when there are over seven billion stars right in front of you?
Jam Jul 2019
The starry sky had engulfed in me in its embrace, leaving my skin pickled in porcelain frost. Floating in the abyss, stars swarm to my touch. Fleeting warmth is merely inches from my fingers, your love is merely inches from my tongue, his hands are merely inches from my thighs. The sky split, separating the tainted from the unloved.

The Sky God, Boreas, he cries rivers of gold. Intertwined with the cosmos, the echo of such a deity lays aloof in the nebula. His whispers sprawl between planets, looping back around through earth and leaving me awe struck. Feeling his words lick at my skin, burn at my flesh, peel away my bones..Reminds me of the way you cried. You drowned me in salty, fresh water; leaving my skin pruned from the river.

Odd how reminiscent your love is to the tears of god. Pounding
Loudly
Through my heart,
You’ve left me dauntless
Beneath the proud, rising sun.
Brandon Conway Jul 2019
In the center gravity holds
tightly as we spiral
awaiting to enfold
ever pressed in cosmic vinyl
rk Jul 2019
my darling
my love for you
will outshine
any star in the sky,
until there is nothing left
but blackness
and the memory
of your lips on mine
you are the only galaxy
i never tire of exploring.
- my love for you is as vast and infinite as the unknown universe.
Myka Jul 2019
The children of the moon are born with golden wings,
flying through the cosmos, travelling worlds and visiting stars.
They pick at the shackles of their realities, hoping to find another,
with glazed eyes, lunar-powered minds and beating hearts.

Sleepwalking in the day, daydreaming at night,
Fluttering their wings as they wear their hearts on their sleeves.
They are the Dreamers, moonstruck wanderers, who dream
to bring truth to their stardust-sprinkled make-believes.
fray narte Jul 2019
she was a supernova
concealed in the synapses
of the cosmic dust.
there,
she incinerated everything
including herself —
she incinerated everything,

especially herself.
MayC Jul 2019
sky
sometimes I just want
to be woken up at 3 a.m.
in the morning
just to watch the stars.
to see what are they doing
while we are asleep.
because no one knows how
they live
how they truly shine.
stardust on our eyelids
to make us fall
asleep
on purpose.
their energy may fill
the entire
Universe
and we,
us,
so innocent,
so naive,
we may never know what they are
up to.
for they can bring life
with their warmth
and their light
but they can
give birth to chaos,
in an abyss of a black hole.
supernovas,
the death of a star,
we think we know them.
but how about their birth?
you never see their spells
how they conjure up and
sing together
and dance through constellations
to welcome their new sister.
no one knows.
not even the Giant
Cosmos
can predict what they can do.
so,
no new stars.
the same light.
with the same speed.
billions and billions
light years
away.
and the distance may come to us
and hunt our minds.
are they still alive ?
are they still emanating
pure, golden
chaos?
unfortunately,
for the heartbroken,
former lovers' eyes
represent the stars.
and oh, how tragic
and beautifully melancholic
it is
to better think that
the stars don't shine anymore.
if not for them,
than fo no one.
don't share the night sky with anyone.
don't wake up just to catch them.
don't dismiss their magic stardust
that puts you to sleep.
because they will enchant you
and make you wish
you never shared their secrets with anyone,
not even yourself.


-May Colde
Sorry for the possible mistakes.
fray narte Jun 2019
this is one of those
theatrical, midnight breakdowns
seen by the markers on my walls
and the cobwebs in the ceiling;
and there i was,
spilling my emotions —
like fragments of a dying star,
all over the place.

lightyears away,
some stars explode immaculately.

right here in my room,
the explosion
isn’t as beautiful;
it just hurts,
and hurts,
and hurts.
Ilonka Jun 2019
I want to go there where the paths end
where I can touch the sky,
the shadow of a grown oak from old ages to be my home and its branches to be my roof,
silence to be my friend when loneliness becomes hostile
and the twilight wind to comfort my body when I feel this ridiculous longing for you...

I want to go where I can be alone with the sea the blue infinity to breathe in, to feel it even in my bones,
I want to cool down on black lava rocks grown from the sea
thirsty waves to kiss me in live rhythms that I receive with sweet smiles lost in infinity ...

I want to go there in empty deserts
where the brass light does not spare any thoughts
melting small, dark minds already darkened by our master
that leads our lives with ego and pride ...

I want to go where the face of the night smiles at me and darkness accepts me as a child of his own,
there in the moon's web to fall asleep undisturbed
caught in a dream to swim with dancing stars in the waltz of the infinite cosmos.
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