Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
As I rotate without and within
When I’ve died I’ll be born yet again
I’ve come and I’ve gone
Like the dusk and the dawn
Can a cycle be said to begin?
What

scaffold

eternal bounds?

Is it sinew, shadow, vacuum?

You reach, spirals unraveling becoming. Who forged laws?

Can the architect recall genesis, or memory ash? Walls hum with fractal hymns.

Each question births a child, becomes a labyrinth, sings of endless corridors. Beneath infinity's weight, does collapse spiral upward forever unfold?

It is a serpent in disguise— its tongue promises clarity, but clarity is a chimera. Thought consumes itself, meaning devours its maker, and nothingness births the heaviest burden: the need to ask again, endlessly.
Tried something a bit different here, mixed it with a little math. Let me know if I got it right or if I just made everyone’s brain hurt!
Eliza Prasai Jan 11
It felt like a dream sometimes…
You and me!
I closed the book and moved away,
I thought we were two parallel lines.
and Our story in the test of time;
It just couldn’t stay!

Time passed and years flew,
Our story broke and our pages torn,
My words had faded but your ink still run…
Little did I know,
Between all these years and frozen memories
Our story was waiting to be reborn!

And then one day …
I travelled the same roads again,
looking for you in the places we were,
You were standing there with arms open
your voice was different yet still the same
And suddenly ,
my heart…
it was longing to see you and embrace your name.

I thought we were drawn as parallel lines,
unbent, unswayed , untouched
Together forever but never home
but then I saw you…
I was wrong all along the way
we were not parallel lines …
theres a magnetic pull to us…
A different kind of force,
running through our past lives
that always draws us to the same old course.

We are not lines, we never were…
infact we are a circle wide and vast
A stubborn thread that keeps looping in…
A loop through our futures and past,
An open circle, running thru the test of time
May be some wrong turns…
but hearts that always yearn…

Then I saw you and the circle closed,
We are no longer lost in the lines…
Like lovers from last life….
Our story carved thru fragments of time…
Two hearts, fully in love and free…
no longer bound by lines but infinity!
Nat Lipstadt Dec 2024
“Talk in everlasting words
And dedicate them all to me
And I will give you all my life
I'm here if you should call to me
You think that I don't even mean
A single word I say
It's only words and words are all I have
To take your heart away”


“Words” by the Bee Gees
<•>

words are orbs,
living in the airy space just
about above over my head

still plucking ‘em when the
spirits shake me awake,
speaking
“create, can’t wait,”
for if the instance slips by,
a
disparate disparaging displacement
though not fully lost,
the precise
conviction combination
precious precision decision
if not stepped upon with
a codifying immediacy urgency
can result in an
irreparably irreversible irresponsibly
l o s s,
feeling as if a piece of your
owned amazing
has been chipped off irretrievably,
flown away to a
never again
nether land

not lost on me that
the infinite symbol

is sometimes called the
lazy eights

a minute momentous moment,
all it takes, for the loss of
infinity permanence of going
gone gone gone

read of a man,
in a creative place,
songwriter on a crowded California
Santa Monica highway,
with no place to pull off,
sings over again the tune birthing
with no intermission
repeating for hours the tune
and the lyrics
of a new (now famous) song,
proceeds
directly to the recording studio
to lay that track down

been there, done exactly that,
“while doing 85 mph on the
Long Island Expressway,”
(L.I..E. )
and those
everlasting words
live on today
Dec. 2024
bucketb0t Nov 2024
sing infinite magic,
magic infinite sign

guitar ∞ shape ∞ masterpieces
one by one
Dedicated to Buckethead's Killswitch guitar, and also it's a condensed exposure of my way of writing.
Hugo Pierce Nov 2024
It's ok to stop
It's ok to slow down
I say this as I speed through my sentences
We are victims of endless pursuit
Racing to get things done only to find out that new things need doing
It doesn't end and if it doesn't end then it's infinite and if it's infinite
What's the rush?

So much to do with so little time
We fear of our finite existence
But with all this speed we lose meaning
And without meaning, why do it in the first place?

We want it now but we aren't there
And when we get what we want it isn't enough
There is always more, always something else
Another task or another priority
Another need or another want
It never ends
And if it doesn't end then its infinite
So if it's infinite
Why rush?
Let us call it bewilderness. That place I can't find. the same place that keeps someone without walls or chains. Perhaps a vast eternity of wandering, a piece of perpetual nothing inside everything.
Mine is yours, I'd be inclined to breathe.
Dark and deeply unfound
A something of nothing where nothing is everything.
Gerald Oct 2024
Galaxies
swirl In the infinity
of your embrace.

Your kiss,
like a comet's tail,
leaves stardust on
my soul.

Our lips collide in
a celestial ballet—a dance
of tongues,

a rythem that
our hearts control.
Next page