Were tied to others orbits even though were pelted
with the remnant of there words raining down on us.

Scaring the landscape of our feelings,
we still linger hoping that our orbits glide closer,

But in reality were always being pushed further apart.

When the lights stop spinning --
Will the lights stop spinning?
This is the crash,
This is the fall,
I'm the water coming back down
Return from orbit and
Breaking old ******* bones
How's that for home?
When the lights stop spinning --
And they will stop spinning.
Gift of immortality in abstract.
No God, no blessing to grant.
Touchdown from orbit,
******* asteroid.
I am the master/pilot,
My body to destroy

A mood hasten the dew
here that could beat sadness
with a line in its circumference
that joins like a tangent yet
might appear like an axis
but profane as new moon
that sometimes was shone there
discreetly above the equator
and dIrectly by supreme
known its horizon forever now
when blue skies are subterfuge
if only irony doubt here
this dissonant antipathy reign
today jive in rhyme again.

they say men are from Mars
and women are from Venus
but i wonder what takes so long
for us to cross paths
perhaps
it's what the astronomers tried to declare
that Mars and Venus never does
and will never intersect orbits
with millions of miles in between them
or what the astrologers tried to foretell
that a love unknown as a nameless star
can never really shine in the first place
because of the thousands of miles between us
but even if it takes an infinity of time or space
for us to reach one another
i would still stay and wait
by your side, i will hover
what matters for now is
i found you
amidst many others
i saw you
even in the dark
and i love you so

He was my sun, every single planet in my body revolved around him.

The days seem so much longer when I don't meet the light of his gaze.
It was agony.

Every moment we are together,
an hour seems like one second.
It was in these moments wherein I knew what happiness felt like.

I hope I don't grow old like this:
depending on the few days I'd have by your side.

Everyday I'd pray
for a chance that gravity
can grant me my one wish.

My wish of being in his orbit,
and he in mine,
for eternity.

Her novelty has faded.
The stars hang back, distant ladies-in-waiting.
The night sky, their palace, is eclipsed by cities
Exploding with neon lights and grotesque trees.
She is too romantic.
Inch by inch, the black sheath is drawn back,
Revealing her smiling crescent.
She keeps a faithful orbit, and stirs
Blue oceans with long white fingers.

In her full sphere
She is a perfect spotlight,
Turning quiet snowy fields into
Illuminated empty stages.
She plays peek-a-boo, uncovering lovers
Gleaming whitely in the mouths
Of beds.
The beauty of entwined limbs
Exposed in her milky radiance.

She is the sun’s soft reflection.
He is never dim, and the black
Silk bag, a sort of corset,
Is ready to devour her again.
The wine is drained from the glass.
Her smile has become a slit.
The single pearl
Gulped,
Cloaked in shadow again.

They say grieving is different for everyone,
But they can never truthfully explain how.

It was not until my south star exploded
That I could understand how many constellations would be ruined

Like the godmother who would forever spend Saint Patrick's day drinking in memory of both nephew and mother;

Like the little brother who was forced to become the oldest;

Like the uncle who shuddered at seeing his own son's demise too clearly;

Like the step-mother who would hate herself for being right all along;

Like the friend who would cut up his life with the same murderous knife;

Like the father now blinded from the absence of the son's light;

And like the sister who was forced to break the promise of future reconciliation.

None of them could understand how the planets had aligned this way,

And none of them could find their former orbit,

But rather, would follow the path of the star dust left behind

Flinching at it as if it were glass,

Embracing the sting

Because it is all that is left

Of the brightest star in their sky.

moons are out tonight
orbiting softly, unseen
just beyond planets

What are we
but a speck in this universe
of granite, metal and a burning tail
Fiery wild passion
moving in a constant speed
As if we already knew
As if we planned
As if written
As if measured
Do we count in Fibonacci's
in blindfolds eternally spin in this limbo
indulging ourselves in the futility of a dog chasing its tail
are we just asleep in this journey
conversing in our dreams
decoding static noises in the other end of the radio
for flight directions
over shifting planes of time
Like the stars believed that fate is their religion
Or the cosmos just furtive of its secrets?

-Margaret Austin Go, Lost in Orbit