Many armed & many mighty,
A congregation of heads
Taking countless different faces.
As like the nine-tailed fox
Or the regenerative hydra,
Like a whisper from a daimon or seraph.
What an elusive cast overseeing this dominion,
In & out there, everywhere.
Those related to physics,
As like inertia & momentum.
To width & to volume.
Time & energy.
The biological & inert systems.
In the scatterings & distributions
And in the combinations & coalescences,
The raindrop to the puddle.
Islands among the sea,
All with some pulse or vibration
And a resonate frequency.
The chain-reactions at lengths which,
By our perspective,
Span seemingly in excession of infinity.
We are flickering candles
Cursed to decipher dripping wax,
Tracking the days of oil left.
We are pollen to by used by the colony
To construct & fortify the hive,
To feed the young.
Who are we to pick the flower
Thinking it will make us blossom?
To eat of the peach, to pick the apple,
But discard the seed
And rob another's potential?
To burn the bush & brush,
Drain the wetlands,
And sow devastation.
Eviction of the natives off their land
After the destruction of their homes.
What is man not, if not an animal?
What is a man, if not an animal?
What then is an animal if there is not some thought which bares resemblance to such a concept?
And if so; since we are made up of that which is organic in nature,
Metallic, and mineral-
It is not outside the realm of possibility
That other such forms of matter
Could indeed be capable.
Without the pretext of plausibility;
Like Eudoxus, in the disparity between
Correctly framing concentric spheres
And mistakenly claiming geocentricism.
It's a big world we know of
And a much larger universe.
Do plants scream
At the pain of a leaf torn?
Do trees look after their neighbors?
Likewise then, there is such constraint,
As like a straight jacket,
In that total adherence
To thought subjugated to concept
Looking for definition & context
Without daring inference or experimentation.
We'll get some things accurate
Even if there are missteps or failures,
But it's imperative we recognize them.
Thumbing around the galaxies
Searching for an answer
To the question of purpose,
But you're right where you stand.
I'm not sure how this started,
Exactly how this began,
And my memory of the journey
Is like that of the end.
If I were a captain,
If I were a white whale.
Cut the nets,
Ditch the harpoons,
Raise anchor,
Break sail.
If I were master,
If I moved to Bremen.
I'd scratch with claws,
Bare teeth & bite,
Kick with hoove,
Give chase & crow.

Were it that I could remember.

"I am over the moon", love said
"But how can you breathe?" logic asked

"I can't", love smiled
"How are you alive?", logic asked

"I am catching my breath", love replied
"Up there?", logic replied

"Weightlessly",
love closed its eyes
and fell

Let’s make love under the stars,
Jupiter and Mars
If you can hold the stars in space
Setting motion our time and place
Into the deepest depths and
darkest nights
I’ll follow you down

Through the cosmic dance, we'll sway
Our love, a gravitational pull, each day
In the silence of the universe's roar
Our hearts will beat together, forever more

In the celestial tapestry, we'll weave
Our love, a shining thread, to forever leave
A constellation of memories, bright and true
Guiding us forward, my love,
I'll follow you.

My companions, forlorn, left Remus Primoid— disappearing like vultures into a Sub-Saharan vista of the night— and travelled back to Earth, missing the the life they had once lived. I, however, had no friends or family to sustain my sentimentality and decided to stay upon Remus Primoid, within the village of Tok-Tuu, hoping to create a life for myself upon this distant world.

In my fifth year as a villager of Tok-Tuu I was permitted to learn the oblong mutterings: sacred chants created by the pre-eminent founder, Oblong Jenkins-Kennedy, who uttered these chants under his breath as he carved the ancient structures of Tok-Tuu, as well as the hidden statue of Tei Romuloid-Papatemuloid, the mother of all life on Remus Primoid, a statue hidden within the depths of the ancient tombs, situated deep within the catacombs.

The mutterings were as follows:

"Oblongboidoid, Tok-Tuu, Tok-Tuu. Boid, boid. Bashin-gore— I sustain my left foot. Boid, boid. Tok-Tuu, Tok-Tuu. Helmonstap-hablefoot, caress carefully."

Upon my learning of the sacred mutterings, I was initiated into The Society of Sculptors. Such joy I felt, in this, my fifth year, to finally be accepted, truly, among the people of Tok-Tuu!

somewhere
along the universal path
a twilight hut

stands alone

where cosmic palms are read
and untimely fortunes are told
by abyssal blackness
in the guise of twinkling
clairvoyants

planets reach out
to touch lost faith
yearning for a claim
to stardom
but the uncelestial zone
yields only
dead broke dreams
that have been missold

inside
the sensei shadows
of physics
whisper
contemptuously
of blaggards that
"couldn't even imagine
how to float
never mind actually
be buoyant"

outside
sub-zero temperatures
make sure their teeth
are heard chattering
as their lips
splutter kisses
upon every
last inch of spacial decay
comets are the remnants
of their spit splattering

© poormansdreams

...dust. Ethereal disgust;
the, revolver, Earthly,
expires, coo d'etats. Droning,
are; discharges, of, mistrust.

Early, empires, of, devilment. Driven-on;
gritty, caustic, roads,
of, gristled, carbon, and, skin.
Exuviated, by, serpentine; clouds, gusts.

Makes, death; evolve.
Caught, in, each, tyre-tread,
is, every, copied, dynasty;
crushed, done, then... Chaos.
Eventually, everything,
self-destructs.

From, erstwhile, meagre,
nihilism, upended. Cometh,
mere, scintillating, diamonds. Of,
their; cognition, desires, meat. Dust...

© poormansdreams

Earth comes out of its greenroom

I bend at the window
looking through the glass
down upon its vastness

something out there is wrong

the future's not what it used to be
a shadow tells me

I feel mysterious today
a stranger to myself
I don't recognize my voice

objects outlive us
but we are more than an accident of stars
someday we will be infinite
breaking into the distance

by serene velocity
by delicate transitions

bringing us closer
to a renewed interest in happiness

I walk these streets, silent and still,
Faces pass by, each chasing their will.
No words I offer, no call, no cheer,
In their worlds, they dwell—so far, so near.

Let them wander where their visions lie,
Beneath the same vast Nepali sky.
Dreams of theirs I do not intrude,
For in my quiet, I find my mood.

Am I rude to pass and not engage?
Or just a soul, freeing their stage?
Each moment they craft, I let it unfold,
A mosaic woven in threads untold.

Beneath these hills, in Kathmandu's grace,
I honor their rhythm, their time, their space.
For in this stillness, I see more clear—
A bond unspoken, yet ever near.

Let their paths shine, let them be,
As I journey within, just silently.
Nepali hearts, vast and deep,
In quiet respect, their space I keep.