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Jme Love Sep 17
We never had it all.
But we had an open sky full of stars.
The edge of the universe didnt seem that far.
Riding saturns rings all the way.
Passing the man in the moon with a smile and a wave.
Felt like cloud 9 only higher.
Astroids setting the night sky on fire.
Escaping reality stuck in a dream.
Lasting forever or so it seemed. Until
Out of nowhere tragedy struck.
An unseen darkness. With such a force of bad luck.
A black hole pulled us in.
A beautiful life never to be seen again.
This is what its like living the dream one day and losing it all overnight. Oh and i had a saturn ion. That car took us to places unseen. We made so many memories. But i lost the car my relationship and everything i owned overnight.
m Apr 23
the fan on the lowest setting
still disturbs the decade of dust
enveloping the books that formed
my adolescence;
the disorganized organisms and
******* that have dissolved
in these sheets and these short days
haunt my dreams;

how do i sleep,
knowing that the past future present
perpetuate the block universe of
betrayal and boredom and
baby cries, my mother's eyes,
the abdication of adulthood
and absolution in the absence
of harrowing hope.

i broke my own heart
three states over and now
working and waiting for the
answer to be revealed;
my teenage self says that
sadness is my truest form,
but my soul knows there is more
Jordan Gee Feb 2022
early retirement                                           2.11.22 Mercury/Pluto conjunction

I’ve been cracking jokes lately,
when in the company of others.
When there was an opening in the conversation
I would insert a comment;
I would joke about my life in early retirement.
I would joke and say that I am retired.
It's obviously funny because I’m only 35;
fairly early in my second Saturn returns.

Over the last 18 months I’ve made modest acquisitions
fit for a retiree;
house slippers, a few extra lines in my face and
even a piccolo pipe with dark cherry Cavendish tobacco.  
They all fit rather nicely,
(according to my eyes)
when worn with my gray cardigan with the red whip stitch
suring up the right pocket;
the same cardigan I wore the night of the accident and the
morning of the ward.
That was an equinox to remember.

Maybe it's in poor taste to joke about early retirement.
Perhaps that it isn’t very funny to go on about,
or maybe it was only funny to me.
It hadn’t quite occurred to me until now that
it may be kind of awkward for a grown man to crack
funnies about his lack of income or industriousness.
I suppose I just gave myself a pass.
Because I figured everyone already knows I’m
a little unhinged-
a little ungrounded-
certainly a bit touched…
and that “he just needs time to heal because he is
an activated Light Worker and the benefits reaped
by his inner struggle to anchor the
Light upon the Earth plane is in everyone’s best interest,
and that it takes an untold exertion of Will to exact such an incarnation,
and that it takes more than a few several months for the
risen Kundalini to come to maturation.
Quick, can someone please get me a tourmaline.

Well, here I am in
southern Jersey
Manchester Township
Ocean County
Riverside retirement community
side of the pond (man made)
composite bench under a gazebo erected on a concrete pad.
Sitting inside my cardigan next to my piccolo pipe and a pen in my hand,
wondering how I could feel so lost and so found at the same time.

I’ve been a stubborn *******.
Afraid to bear my Light within my hands and
expose it to my kin in a meaningful way.
But here I am,
early retirement
on an early afternoon
in a retirement community
full of elders
slinkin through the
early dusk of the
twilight of their lives.
And I don't like it.
I am not equanimous with what is.
I’ve excreted so many toxins that the
re-uptake is nearly too much to bear.
I’ve carried empty green notepads in my back pocket for years.
Pen and pad with scotch tape holding down the binding;
worth about three or four poems max.
“Yea I fancy myself a writer, just not very prolific.”
You can only speak something into being so many times
before the universe starts agreeing with you.
Old man Saturn couldn’t give a **** about
little fears and excuses.
The limits of necessity were only
bad wiring
rendered by
my own hand.
And that goes down smooth like a fish-bone in the throat.

I own enough scarves and robes to
circumambulate the globe a few times.
If only I could fly
it would be in such style
because on the outside I look how I want to feel on the inside.
Before my heart center I hold the dharmachakra mudra and
I stare into a candle flame.
I could of sworn they prescribed this treatment
early in the Rig Veda for guys with ailments like mine;
running mad like beside his shadow and
fleeing all the house flies;
sliding down the side of a waxing crescent moon.

only the moon it is a scythe;
a crescent knife.
Waning in early retirement,
old man Saturn coming for his life.
death and the sickle
hebrew rope
and a buffalo nickle
nif Nov 2021
I want go to Saturn
sounds better
a place with out any developed pattern
school school school work work work
Saturn sounds better

Helium and hydrogen
never dealing with fake friends
abusive boyfriends
stubborn parents

Saturn has no gang violence
Instead, rings of rock and ice!
A place with no money; no price!
No footage, no comments on display
no replay or rewrite
no right to wrong
no ego to let go
its just now
a dot on a giant thing
with rings
waiting to hear you sing
my love; my life
take flight
A journey of no return
I want to go to Saturn
Raven Feels Jun 2021
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, sunset west moon flies east? ;]

air planes soar
beyond the limits they roar
in a longing stare they long
disappearing through the clouds and gone
arise arose arisen
and in my place still frozen wizen
they venture the winds purple skied time
to blend and wing the moon menaces racing in line
glistening afar
from the back of a wounded scar
archer to the future
claiming a bleach
where does it go?
where does it reach?
maybe Saturn not here
but the return is there
to the node of the belong flying up no fear
seems my flight gonna wait for years
the waxing gibbous flies
and I hope for dreams in the close of eyes

M Solav Mar 2021
When within my cells there rages war,
For a second breath I’d stare at the stars;

The old world thickened under my feet,
Yet across my sorrows the ends would meet;

So to renew these aspirations of ours,
Perhaps on a missile on its way to Mars.

  ("We are past the third wave,
   past the coastline,
   past the coral reef.")

No I haven’t always been there for you,
In these gardens we’ve walked around and through;

From green to red, vice-versa and so forth,
We’ve gone past Saturn many times before;

Now I’m on my way to a distant shore,
Paddling the bloodstream of my heart.

  ("We reach through the gate,
   the threshold of no-return,
   far beyond Saturn.")

Amidst curiosity and its pulsations,
Of skies infinite, a stubborn astronaut;

It’s time to decline and lose it all
Or time to rise up and answer the call;

Fractions of a split-second, a trigger;
Wings spread to the dark yonder.

  ("The moon now floats behind us,
   It cicatrizes our scars as we sail
   Far into the night.")

The journey into the unknown
Always finds a way to take you home.
Written on April 19th, 2018 - for a song that never was.

— Copyright © M. Solav —
This work may not be used in entirety or in part without the prior approval of its author. Please contact for usage requests. Thank you.
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