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Jon Thenes Feb 2019
to the colouring book
and the maddening imagination
the insistence of the scribes
and the glandular power of our missions
of the dome and the species
the turn of the trickster
and the business being
within our clan
in our hand
in the span of our grind
a product of our natters
is there shared scheme in mind ?

                               - an inhabiter
Bryce Jun 2018
Sometimes my vision starts to vibrate
Back and forth,
Like the firmament of reality
Is ripping apart into dreams
And I wonder if one day it'll go
All the way
And I'll just zoom off into some strange bruise of blue
And purple-black
Heart attack

Reading HR on the wall
Thinking how far we have to fall
Feeling the pleasant rush of air
Run across my free cheeks

And I keep blinking,
Thinking that if I just want a little more
Push a little more
Maybe the word will crack open the rains of fortune
And whisk me away like an egg

Grinding my fingers against the tree,
Trying to eat at the bark
Like a little ******
But not so wrong, honestly.

I find more often than not
When I oft retreat into enclosed thought,
Stepping stones across the pond
Of reality,
I dream of something that could never be.

Like a stone,
Crashing into a celestial dome
Only a fraction of an inch
And destroying wholly
All things that called it home.

Clawing deep at wormword
Blood on fingers, blood and hand
To fall ever softly toward the beautiful
To some perfect miracle.
Bryce Feb 2018
They say Cancer is a water-sign
That it is a mutable thing
And cleansing
and that it can fill any body that it meets with
Many feelings,
swirling typhoons
Like tea leaves
and chemical spills
Somewhere below the heart,
They said.

Cancer hangs in the dome of night,
Between the 90th and 120th degree
Where the sky floats like lithium on the tongue
Playing pick-me-ups with the other alkaline metals
Testing every possible reaction
So that one day another might have
What we lost.

Cancer holds a spirit in its claw
So that in the dead summer heat I can still see
A lovely winter leftover weather
You always hoped you'd leave for me

Sometimes I now look around
at night,
watching these celestial compositions flicker like
ancient candles, blues and reds and yellows.
I wonder what your tiny stars shelter, all those light-years away.
How beautiful you look to my unknowing eyes,
Burning violently, silently
In darkness, dying.
Seema Dec 2017
A gem in the solar
North, south polar
Is round throughout
Earth is all about

Water, air, heat and cold
So many myths untold
This giant rock holds
Every living creatures behold

Sun, moon and many stars
Brighten this rock so far
You and me see this
While cruising in our car

Stand on a height
To cherish the light
The bright rainbow fall
Or spectrum by the waterfall

Collect the visions seen
And imagine where you've been
With lame name rock dome
This place here, we call home...

Paul R Hensley Nov 2017
The angel called to me,
said I have wings for you,

The demon called to me,
said I have chains for you,

Living in a dome,
Imma bout to take this to the dome,
Come to my domain,
Let me change you,
Let me corrupt you,

Come let me serve you,
Give me elegant servants,
Imma put them in my dome with me,

Come sit in my dome with me,
lets watch the sun execute us...

Let us be reborn as one tonight
Confused cause I am
Seema Sep 2017
The prime, sublimed
In the ambience
Of time

The seductive spectrum
Of rays, find its way,
To shine

The greens of the oak
The forest pines, bow
To their shrine

The creatures, the preachers
The four-legged, the two-legged

Roam this dome
This earth, our world
We call it home...

she has become my distant lover. my heels crave the cracked holiness of her cobblestone. old city, dome, wall, burial you are still circling at my feet. now i only feel at home when i am close to the ground. mimicking the comfort i found at her feet - Jerusalem
Curing Jan 2015
There you are...
Perched on the edge of my ocean.

Skipping stars across the horizon...
New galaxies bursting to life before my eyes.

And what is your name?
What does it matter?

I've fallen in love with the sound of every word you've spoken.

I can still hear you laughing as we danced barefoot under the universe.
Therese G Nov 2014
In a cold universe of stars,
I am just one of them, ever bright
However, I am born to lose my light
and crash through the dome of somber skies
darkened by the star's perennial lie:
*they have already gone silent.

— The End —