If the galaxy came down in a tempest
And all the stars fell in the rain
I’d bottle up a supernova
And send it off your way.
Every morning during breakfast
I’d drink the Milky Way
And if ever the galaxy falls anew
We can barricade the storm drains.

We went barefoot
To the edges of where
The earth uprooted, and
Trees lay barren, with sand
tracks bearing testimony to a
Wretched depravity of time !
And we lay threadbare
In the cool April night,
Gazing upsky for hours,
Waiting in expectations,
For ñ elusive silverlight,
Of the fiery celestial might.
Of it's exhilarating approach,
and it's rapid tumultuous demise,
East onto west; upon the lunar sky.
And we wished to capture it, but
All that we could come up with,
Ws' an oak tree, in its wry solitude
Standing stolid, sly and slender
Mere spectator to the cosmos,
Yet, laughing at our fascination;
Of a lucid spectacle,
Which it did witness,
In its forlorn anomaly,
Innumerable instances
Of it's stoic incessant
Time.

Friday night starlight
As we caress the hours,
Streaks across the sky.

Laying outside on a creaky old balcony,
On our backs, tangled up together in heavy blankets,
Rubbing our hands and ears
Because they’re getting numb
Thankful for the summer’s gentle night

I drew my eyes away
From the graceful Venus in the South,
A lone golden light shining wistfully
And I finally found the shape of the Big Dipper.
I stare at its lowest corners’ bright star,
An unfathomable size, and even greater distance away
Making me feel infinitely small
Infinitely calm
I trace with my gaze its tail
As icy white sparks fly lightning fast
Through the dripping-ink sky
And burn out faster than a blink,
Barely caught by our drifting eyes

The three of us talk, I sing, maybe to stay awake or maybe to pass the time
Bohemian Rhapsody’s bittersweet melody never sounded so pleasing to me as at 2 in the morning.
Our chatter of secrets is punctuated by gasps
Of us pointing out those bright streaks

We all make wishes,
For love, for luck, for answers
As celestial raindrops keep reaching across the sky
One bright orange jewel with a lavender tail
Burns beautifully by

I wonder why people make wishes upon something that’s dying,
Though spectacular, at the end of its life
“People wish upon things of the heavens”
Is your beautiful reply.

the sky lightens gradually
as if from nowhere, as if someone
in the sky is slowly rising,
blinking sleep from his eyes
and sitting lazily up onto his elbow,
casually ******* the brightness slider
on the universe as if he's done it
every day, he must have.
before the pink can hit it the checker
pattern of clouds fades away,
promising a casually clear blue
day but this one is more
personal now, his gift to me,
because on the concrete looking up
i can see the sun before it rises,
i know what it's like to wake
with the sun there on the other
side of the bed, to see her slowly
blinking the stars from her skies.
yawning, stretching, morning breath,
to see her rolling up her sleeves
and tying back her hair
and scattering her dreams of death
with a shake of her tired head.
and yet even before she is fully awake
she is so radiant.
the moon, shooting stars, even the perseids
step back to let her shine.
i feel as though when the sun
hides behind storms some days,
each day i will know why.