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Io Sep 2020
Deep within the folded grey
Lonesome titans weave upon their watery graves
Amongst shale seas
Veiled with fog
Vast beasts of smoke float atop
oceans

of grey     silence
Poem about the misty sky beasts
lands of
Titans as
these Vikings
clash at
large with
their picks
and chosen
oars and
hoa ravished
atmosphere with
sea by
their front
and wind
at their
backs while
craters solemnize
the dunes
rig Jul 2020
the titan stares
into the sea;
hands in pockets,
feet bare to rocks,
coat gold and black.
his wrist scars itch.
belly trembles
as birds above
chirp with hunger.
he was the one
who, before thought,
thought to birth us
and paid with pain.
all for nothing.
the fire failed.
the fall is ours.
but his fingers
snap again and
a spark flickers
down the cliff walls,
to light ways out
yet unthought-of.
that’s who he is.
at least, we hope.
Dvali Taytem Apr 2020
I do not know how many years I was terrified of the Titan
It spit in my face the stink of ancient beer
Clogged my nostrils with smoke and massive fingers
As if to rip off my nose
As if to crush my bendy bones in its fists
All the while hollering
For more
And less
And itself

I only know that now
I have seen other
Things
Than it
Things with far more power than it
Things that howl louder than
The Titan
I have risen to meet them
I have looked in their eyes
As I brought
     them
To kneel before
     me
Have brought them
To know fear

Soon I shall make battle again
With the great beast from some hell of its own
It does not yet know
To be afraid
Written around 7:00 AM, 4/19/20.
Edits around 10:00 AM.
Il y a bien huit milliards d'années lumière
Huit cents millions de lustres
Huit cents mille siècles
Huit cents quatre-vingt-huit ans
Huit mois
Huit jours
Huit heures
Huit minutes
Et huit secondes
Nous étions le même corps
La même lune mathusalémique
En orbite autour de Saturne
Puis le grand horloger des Dioscures
Dans son grand égarement
Nous a déclarés péchés capitaux,
Luxure et gourmandise,
Et nous a séparés. Tu te souviens ?
Désormais tu es Epiméthée, Titan qui réfléchit après coup
Et moi Janus, bifrons ou quadrifrons, dieu des portes et des entrées
Aux visages qui se dévisagent
Et nous continuons sur la même orbite
En fer à cheval
Toi intérieure, moi extérieure
Et inversement
Tous les quatre ans
Jusqu'à la fin des temps.
Si l'on en croit Newton
"Deux corps s'attirent en raison directe de leur masse
Et en raison inverse du carré de leur distance "
Je suis comme toi couvert de cratères
Castor, Idas, Lynceus et Phoibe
Et chaque seconde me rapproche
De tes merveilleuses boursouflures
Pollux et Hilairea.
Ad libitum nous échangeons nos orbites jumelles
Et poursuivons notre ballet gravitationnel
Entre cosinus et sinus,
Constante et tangente,
Exponentielle et dérive,
En attendant la mutuelle collision,
La chevauchée céleste de nos hypoténuses
Sans jamais perdre de vue la donnée mathématique :
La primitive de x au carré
Vaut un tiers de x au cube
A une constante près.
Celia Rose Jul 2019
You are the Titan of Tears,
Sobbing to the unforgiving milkman
Who breaks your ***** bottles
And feeds you curdled milk
From withering cattle.
He crunches around broken glass
With his scuffed leather boots on your front porch
As you watch from a hole in your bedroom wall,
Losing your first piece of dignity
And the last of the sanity carrying you since age ten.
You are the Titan of Tears,
Crying to the cutthroat poetess
Who refuses to send your estranged sister
A collection of misery soaked poetry.
She burns your insincere words in front of the mailbox;
Stanza by stanza the ash coats your mouth
Like lipstick for the ******.
Spiraling into smoke as she walks away
Fast enough to lose her in the midst of your fit.
The Titan of Tears—
You whimper in torn apart doorways
To block out strangers who will never appear.
You, Titan,
Who only feels clean when flossing
In the harshest of summer storms
Because you believe your great God is washing
Sins out of your matted hair.
You, Titan,
Whose childhood feels never-ending like evening traffic.
Childhood is the milky smoke you witness
Seeping from your dying neighbor’s chimney;
Childhood stares at you
Like glassy eyed pigeons outside of your office window
As you weep into your cold black coffee, Titan.
Your lacking adulthood is full of sloppy attempts to silence
Barking dogs in your slush brain,
Pushing down the bile that rises in your flaking throat,
As water floods your eyes like a basement during Katrina
And feeding worms writhe out of your flared nostrils,
Covered in snot and blackened discharge.
You are the Titan of Tears;
Your weeping rivals Mother Mary’s ****** streaks.
i am proud of this one.
Anya Aug 2018
If they talk they talk after one
But all the nails in his socket were gone
And though our pastor could not outrun
The secret remains of Babylon
Tess Apr 2018
Bold like a lion,
strong and brave.
I'm not defiant,
know my name.

Proud like a lion,
showing might,
No turning back now,
I will fight.

Roar like a lion.
Hunt your prey.
Walk like a titan.
Rule the day.

Live like a lion.
Know your place.
Keep your head high an'
show your grace.

Sleep like a lion,
with your pride.
Protect your region.
None shall die.

Fail like a lion.
tail down low.
But rise like a king.
All will know.
Be a lion, bold strong, and full of fight, and if life gets's you down, rise up!
Astral Aug 2016
Cascades of these things, crickets legs and flayed livers

Rain in such ruby blood,

against the back of a dead titan
A poem from a sunny somber day
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