#atlas - Hello Poetry

#atlas

What am I but hollow? This empty cage, this rusted prison A phantom trapped within myself. My bones are stripped bare, And my soul is leaking, Dripping away down the bars, Wasting away, like a cigarette. I am a criminal of my own identity, Betraying myself at every turn. Promises; Promises, I've made myself a million promises, And I have broken them, shattered them, Torn myself up on the many remains. And now, Every, single, error haunts my soul, Each one pressing me deeper down, Pushing me harder, closer, to oblivion. I trip under the weight, Scrape my knees on rock bottom, And point the blame at myself This blood surely, I deserve to bleed. Justification of one's actions, By accusation of the mirror Is the most dangerous act of self support. I am crushed by the shame, By the weight of my own mistakes, My bones, my foundation, crumbling, Like a disgraced version of Atlas. I now live life, for that day, Where all of my guilt fades like smoke, And I am free, from my own blame. Until then, I will tirelessly strive, fight, battle, To be better, Every moment, Every day, Melius esse; Melius esse.

0

Aug 5, 2025

Aug 5, 2025 at 10:08 AM UTC

Charlotte_Coldwell

What am I but hollow? This empty cage, this rusted prison A phantom trapped within myself. My bones are stripped bare, And my soul is leaking, Dripping away down the bars, Wasting away, like a cigarette. I am a criminal of my own identity, Betraying myself at every turn. Promises; Promises, I've made myself a million promises, And I have broken them, shattered them, Torn myself up on the many remains. And now, Every, single, error haunts my soul, Each one pressing me deeper down, Pushing me harder, closer, to oblivion. I trip under the weight, Scrape my knees on rock bottom, And point the blame at myself This blood surely, I deserve to bleed. Justification of one's actions, By accusation of the mirror Is the most dangerous act of self support. I am crushed by the shame, By the weight of my own mistakes, My bones, my foundation, crumbling, Like a disgraced version of Atlas. I now live life, for that day, Where all of my guilt fades like smoke, And I am free, from my own blame. Until then, I will tirelessly strive, fight, battle, To be better, Every moment, Every day, Melius esse; Melius esse.

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I have walked behind my father for many years, Marveling at the broad expanse of his shoulders and the strength in his back. As a child, my father was a veritable giant in my eyes His shoulders stretching towards the horizon And far beyond the reach of my own spindly arms. Whenever he lifted me high onto his mighty shoulders, the world unfolded before my eyes I felt like a demi-god on the shoulder of a god, lifted to heights where my troubles could not follow. Every sight and sound was a revelation and more than anything else, I felt like I was on top of the world. As a teenager going through changes, I still walked behind my father, like a son ought to do. his back, a steady silhouette always loomed large in my vision bearing the weight of untold burdens in stoic silence; never shifting nor trembling under the unyielding demands of life, family and the sacrifices that needed to be made. In those enduring shoulders, I caught a glimpse of Atlas himself and I could sense the titanic strength my father, who carried his world without complaint or pause. Now, as an adult, I stand taller than my revered father. I see the world from a new vantage point and my eyes, once filled with innocent wonder now glow with a refined yet fragile understanding. My father still stands as a rock and a pillar in my world yet now, i see the change wrought by the passing of time I see the slight stoop to his back, the softened edges of once hard muscles and the weariness etched deep into the lines on his back sadness grips my heart and i ache for the figure of invincibility that he struck in the past Yet, those same shoulders bear their old burdens still, proud and strong If there is one thing time has done for me, it has brought me closer in understanding and in strength to my father And though i can walk beside my father, i chose to walk behind him, if ever so slightly to his left so that i can share the weight he bears If there is one thing i am grateful for the passage of time, it is that i can ease the load on those steadfast arms and give my father rest in the twilight of his strength. For all the years that he carried the world upon those shoulders, now it is my turn to share the weight.

0

Jul 29, 2025

Jul 29, 2025 at 6:59 PM UTC

On Atlas' Shoulders

I have walked behind my father for many years, Marveling at the broad expanse of his shoulders and the strength in his back. As a child, my father was a veritable giant in my eyes His shoulders stretching towards the horizon And far beyond the reach of my own spindly arms. Whenever he lifted me high onto his mighty shoulders, the world unfolded before my eyes I felt like a demi-god on the shoulder of a god, lifted to heights where my troubles could not follow. Every sight and sound was a revelation and more than anything else, I felt like I was on top of the world. As a teenager going through changes, I still walked behind my father, like a son ought to do. his back, a steady silhouette always loomed large in my vision bearing the weight of untold burdens in stoic silence; never shifting nor trembling under the unyielding demands of life, family and the sacrifices that needed to be made. In those enduring shoulders, I caught a glimpse of Atlas himself and I could sense the titanic strength my father, who carried his world without complaint or pause. Now, as an adult, I stand taller than my revered father. I see the world from a new vantage point and my eyes, once filled with innocent wonder now glow with a refined yet fragile understanding. My father still stands as a rock and a pillar in my world yet now, i see the change wrought by the passing of time I see the slight stoop to his back, the softened edges of once hard muscles and the weariness etched deep into the lines on his back sadness grips my heart and i ache for the figure of invincibility that he struck in the past Yet, those same shoulders bear their old burdens still, proud and strong If there is one thing time has done for me, it has brought me closer in understanding and in strength to my father And though i can walk beside my father, i chose to walk behind him, if ever so slightly to his left so that i can share the weight he bears If there is one thing i am grateful for the passage of time, it is that i can ease the load on those steadfast arms and give my father rest in the twilight of his strength. For all the years that he carried the world upon those shoulders, now it is my turn to share the weight.

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i feel like the weight of my world is on my shoulders, a self-inflicted Atlas curse. my actions are coming back to knock me down and crush my resolve. i'm so close. so close to getting everything fixed. and i push the boulder up the hill as Sisyphus did. but every time i near the zenith, i make one small misstep, and everything slips from my hands, rolling me flat again. mere assignments feel like labours of Hercules, impossible trials, with the intent of divine punishment. if i slay the Hydra, will i pass english class?

0

Jan 9, 2025

Jan 9, 2025 at 9:55 AM UTC

catching a break feels like a myth

i feel like the weight of my world is on my shoulders, a self-inflicted Atlas curse. my actions are coming back to knock me down and crush my resolve. i'm so close. so close to getting everything fixed. and i push the boulder up the hill as Sisyphus did. but every time i near the zenith, i make one small misstep, and everything slips from my hands, rolling me flat again. mere assignments feel like labours of Hercules, impossible trials, with the intent of divine punishment. if i slay the Hydra, will i pass english class?

Continue reading...

bearing the world upon your shoulders crippling to grasp and smothering to your soul is this world even worth it when there is so much darkness atlas telamon, enduring atlas the fates born and fostered by you past, present, and future are within your arms the weight is magnificent the torments and sins of this world displayed so glaringly to you the pains of humanity are your pains dread of uncertainty haunt your mind regrets are everflowing yearning for past love in present time with the future a fog, but known too well as history repeats itself over and over and over right before your very eyes you see a glimpse of light effervescent fleeting moments of light in this world do occur but this this light is strong, it is powerful, but as imposing as dandelion tufts in a field of grass like nothing you’ve ever seen before it takes your breath away this light is welcoming, like a laugh, but dare you look? dare you entertain something more? you let yourself gaze and behold a familiar beauty distant memories and uncoordinated thoughts rush in the screams of this world the moans of your own soul and you realize there is no darkness without light and no light without darkness it never was and never will be for all the magnificence this world has to offer this light was the most beautiful you’ve ever seen and you look you really look for more than a millennia you’ve shouldered the world the inhabitant’s sins growing to become almost unbearable the horrors manifested in such barbaric ways in fact in many ways, you saw the earth was simply a manifestation of your own inner self you had become something different in carrying the weight of this world upon your shoulders or were you always this way? you are almost blinded with the light and you falter you shrug you feel your shoulders lower, ever so slightly this small shift in your stance causes the entire earth to quake earth’s oceans thrown into a multitude of hurricanes glaciers fall and cause cataclysms of avalanches earth is no longer recognizable and yet your soul remains intact thunderstorms and lightning light up the heavens dark clouds resemble thick smoke a battle of the gods giant gusts of wind rush over entire bodies of earth in the time it takes to whisper your name violent tornados whisk the contents of the landscapes away turning shards of ice into lethal weapons and jungles into something akin to what was once the oceans deserts into blenders where sand is more like billions of bullets and swamps into sinkholes the size of continents and through this all, happening in only a matter of moments, you worry you’ll blink and the light will dim, or vanish entirely what if the light was a dream? but if felt like the realest thing you’d ever known so unabashedly existing, almost in spite darkness made this light stronger this light gave darkness its origin and as the flames of this world flood your peripheral vision the light in your pupils you inhale and you blink as your eyes open, you sigh out huge relief the light is still there and in breathing, your shrug becomes full the world inferno crashes from your shoulders the poles of the earth leaving your grasp plummeting into the cosmos of eternity embraced into the arms of another orbit unknown to you out of your vision and off of your shoulders your soul remains intact and with great effort, and patience, you place your hands upon your knees and you stand to see the light in its full glory is to know that this world never meant anything at all and you inch forward for the first time since almost even you could remember, you’re not stagnant and as you get closer, you marvel at how the light shines the exact same, not darker not even brighter you had wondered if you would see the light more clearly once you were closer but no this light existed in spite of you, in spite of the heavens, or hell, or the conception of this world and your arms reach out, trembling your breath shuddering your skin is on fire, and covered from head to toe in goosebumps, you feel the winds of time breathe on your neck suddenly the light envelops you your eyes well into tears and your body quakes from your sobs as did the earth silly earth no truer joy could you imagine no stronger ecstasy could one feel your body relaxes, and you breathe in sync with this light you vow never to leave the safety of this light if you had to carry this on your shoulders forevermore, you would and you would not falter and you would not shrug your eyes already covenanted to never look away from the light, but to marvel together at the universe in harmony, you move as one your breaths and laughter creating a symphony of sound and light a rose nebula amongst many, yours and the lights story would be a sacred teaching, passed through the ages of humanity written in stone carved into the rocks of our planet told through ritualistic dances by shamans shouted before the battles of vikings transcribed by the poets of all time made into lullabies for the offspring to come your very own song of solomon eventually this story, your story, would turn into fable and myth the earth so far removed from your presence galaxies away no matter who believed your story, or thought of it as a simple bedtime fable it was always told as the epoch genesis of love •

0

Apr 24, 2024

Apr 24, 2024 at 8:49 AM UTC

bearing the world upon your shoulders crippling to grasp and smothering to your soul is this world even worth it when there is so much darkness atlas telamon, enduring atlas the fates born and fostered by you past, present, and future are within your arms the weight is magnificent the torments and sins of this world displayed so glaringly to you the pains of humanity are your pains dread of uncertainty haunt your mind regrets are everflowing yearning for past love in present time with the future a fog, but known too well as history repeats itself over and over and over right before your very eyes you see a glimpse of light effervescent fleeting moments of light in this world do occur but this this light is strong, it is powerful, but as imposing as dandelion tufts in a field of grass like nothing you’ve ever seen before it takes your breath away this light is welcoming, like a laugh, but dare you look? dare you entertain something more? you let yourself gaze and behold a familiar beauty distant memories and uncoordinated thoughts rush in the screams of this world the moans of your own soul and you realize there is no darkness without light and no light without darkness it never was and never will be for all the magnificence this world has to offer this light was the most beautiful you’ve ever seen and you look you really look for more than a millennia you’ve shouldered the world the inhabitant’s sins growing to become almost unbearable the horrors manifested in such barbaric ways in fact in many ways, you saw the earth was simply a manifestation of your own inner self you had become something different in carrying the weight of this world upon your shoulders or were you always this way? you are almost blinded with the light and you falter you shrug you feel your shoulders lower, ever so slightly this small shift in your stance causes the entire earth to quake earth’s oceans thrown into a multitude of hurricanes glaciers fall and cause cataclysms of avalanches earth is no longer recognizable and yet your soul remains intact thunderstorms and lightning light up the heavens dark clouds resemble thick smoke a battle of the gods giant gusts of wind rush over entire bodies of earth in the time it takes to whisper your name violent tornados whisk the contents of the landscapes away turning shards of ice into lethal weapons and jungles into something akin to what was once the oceans deserts into blenders where sand is more like billions of bullets and swamps into sinkholes the size of continents and through this all, happening in only a matter of moments, you worry you’ll blink and the light will dim, or vanish entirely what if the light was a dream? but if felt like the realest thing you’d ever known so unabashedly existing, almost in spite darkness made this light stronger this light gave darkness its origin and as the flames of this world flood your peripheral vision the light in your pupils you inhale and you blink as your eyes open, you sigh out huge relief the light is still there and in breathing, your shrug becomes full the world inferno crashes from your shoulders the poles of the earth leaving your grasp plummeting into the cosmos of eternity embraced into the arms of another orbit unknown to you out of your vision and off of your shoulders your soul remains intact and with great effort, and patience, you place your hands upon your knees and you stand to see the light in its full glory is to know that this world never meant anything at all and you inch forward for the first time since almost even you could remember, you’re not stagnant and as you get closer, you marvel at how the light shines the exact same, not darker not even brighter you had wondered if you would see the light more clearly once you were closer but no this light existed in spite of you, in spite of the heavens, or hell, or the conception of this world and your arms reach out, trembling your breath shuddering your skin is on fire, and covered from head to toe in goosebumps, you feel the winds of time breathe on your neck suddenly the light envelops you your eyes well into tears and your body quakes from your sobs as did the earth silly earth no truer joy could you imagine no stronger ecstasy could one feel your body relaxes, and you breathe in sync with this light you vow never to leave the safety of this light if you had to carry this on your shoulders forevermore, you would and you would not falter and you would not shrug your eyes already covenanted to never look away from the light, but to marvel together at the universe in harmony, you move as one your breaths and laughter creating a symphony of sound and light a rose nebula amongst many, yours and the lights story would be a sacred teaching, passed through the ages of humanity written in stone carved into the rocks of our planet told through ritualistic dances by shamans shouted before the battles of vikings transcribed by the poets of all time made into lullabies for the offspring to come your very own song of solomon eventually this story, your story, would turn into fable and myth the earth so far removed from your presence galaxies away no matter who believed your story, or thought of it as a simple bedtime fable it was always told as the epoch genesis of love •

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To my old love I know it’s hard Do you get tired of carrying The weight of my poetry On your shoulders Until I have something better To worry about? It’s the weight of the world And nothing at all Really matters To my friends I really feel like I’m starting to disappoint you And then It starts to feel like You are too It’s the weight of the world And nothing at all Really matters To my parents I know you’re afraid; I am too But I’m really Much more tired Of running It’s the weight of the world And nothing at all Really matters To self-help To patience To glasses of water To deep breaths And better drugs I promise, It’s the weight of the world And nothing at all Really matters

0

Jun 25, 2022

Jun 25, 2022 at 10:09 PM UTC

To my old love I know it’s hard Do you get tired of carrying The weight of my poetry On your shoulders Until I have something better To worry about? It’s the weight of the world And nothing at all Really matters To my friends I really feel like I’m starting to disappoint you And then It starts to feel like You are too It’s the weight of the world And nothing at all Really matters To my parents I know you’re afraid; I am too But I’m really Much more tired Of running It’s the weight of the world And nothing at all Really matters To self-help To patience To glasses of water To deep breaths And better drugs I promise, It’s the weight of the world And nothing at all Really matters

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O Divine Matchmaker, pay heed to my plea. I guard an egress open ajar, crusted by thorns I guard this world against the odium behind it I guard this door, not in service, Matchmaker. My hands, grip on the barbs of this doorway To keep it ajar, for a glimpse of my remittal; Of the extant light of my sole soul so brittle, Anneliese, Blessed with a name so celestial, Anneliese, Cursed with a burden so menial, Placidly fostering the lives behind that door. Anneliese, my only mud-soaked nightingale. O Divine Matchmaker, answer my quandary. Am I to serve this world as an eternal Atlas? Am I to forsake my mud-soaked nightingale? Is our union ignoble to you, O Matchmaker? How many unanswered sunsets remain alas? In distraught, a thousand misereres, I penned In every breath, I pine to pen a thousand more. If only I had a drop of ink left… If only I had a drop of ink left…

0

Jul 14, 2021

Jul 14, 2021 at 4:10 AM UTC

Answer us... Avenge us.

O Divine Matchmaker, pay heed to my plea. I guard an egress open ajar, crusted by thorns I guard this world against the odium behind it I guard this door, not in service, Matchmaker. My hands, grip on the barbs of this doorway To keep it ajar, for a glimpse of my remittal; Of the extant light of my sole soul so brittle, Anneliese, Blessed with a name so celestial, Anneliese, Cursed with a burden so menial, Placidly fostering the lives behind that door. Anneliese, my only mud-soaked nightingale. O Divine Matchmaker, answer my quandary. Am I to serve this world as an eternal Atlas? Am I to forsake my mud-soaked nightingale? Is our union ignoble to you, O Matchmaker? How many unanswered sunsets remain alas? In distraught, a thousand misereres, I penned In every breath, I pine to pen a thousand more. If only I had a drop of ink left… If only I had a drop of ink left…

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He pushed the weight of the world To the top of the milky way And he leaned, and he sighed As the world rolled away He put the globe on his shoulders As he prepared to climb again He shrugged and it shuddered Spreading fear to little men Igby! Igby, my boy! I feel it coming down on me! This pressure, this weight! Why can I not be free? Some weights are corporeal Like the dumbbells at the barbell Tabs overflowing, drinks and meals These simple weights are easy to quell Then there are the really heavy ones The ones no eyes can see The ones that drag us down to earth That make it hard to flee Our words and obligations All form a lofty load We are all carrying something Along our personal roads And our roads, they go forever But, to where? No one knows...

0

Jun 10, 2021

Jun 10, 2021 at 2:42 PM UTC

cosmic_laughter

He pushed the weight of the world To the top of the milky way And he leaned, and he sighed As the world rolled away He put the globe on his shoulders As he prepared to climb again He shrugged and it shuddered Spreading fear to little men Igby! Igby, my boy! I feel it coming down on me! This pressure, this weight! Why can I not be free? Some weights are corporeal Like the dumbbells at the barbell Tabs overflowing, drinks and meals These simple weights are easy to quell Then there are the really heavy ones The ones no eyes can see The ones that drag us down to earth That make it hard to flee Our words and obligations All form a lofty load We are all carrying something Along our personal roads And our roads, they go forever But, to where? No one knows...

Continue reading...

A colony of Atlas Stones defends itself with heavy handedness intercession relies on physicality only power warrants movement and only movement measures success pushing what's in your way becomes a master key to move through a locked down nation a girdle is worn on America's underbelly bloated by an autoimmune disease. The Atlas Stones reproduce tiny innocuous pellets that take an edgier form filling up the feed trough until they're mature enough to buzz like flies over the deceased burrowing inside anything not made of concrete turning their reluctant host into stone a facsimile of a fairer, freer fossil these stones infect everything with their heaviness so we must remove the concrete and steel inside.

0

Mar 26, 2021

Mar 26, 2021 at 4:19 AM UTC

A colony of Atlas Stones defends itself with heavy handedness intercession relies on physicality only power warrants movement and only movement measures success pushing what's in your way becomes a master key to move through a locked down nation a girdle is worn on America's underbelly bloated by an autoimmune disease. The Atlas Stones reproduce tiny innocuous pellets that take an edgier form filling up the feed trough until they're mature enough to buzz like flies over the deceased burrowing inside anything not made of concrete turning their reluctant host into stone a facsimile of a fairer, freer fossil these stones infect everything with their heaviness so we must remove the concrete and steel inside.

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let's say atlas' body is full of birds and when he is crushed to death they will escape free and resplendent let's say i am atlas and you are the face in the mirror let's say atlas is screaming and crying and begging but you are silent and your face is unmoving atlas' mother gets that worried look on her face and the part of atlas that still loves himself is trying to get him to just put it all down for a second let's say atlas is smoking a cigarette let's say atlas' rib cage is cracking under the pressure and it's worth pointing out that no one will notice atlas is gone until the world starts falling down around his body

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Oct 12, 2020

Oct 12, 2020 at 12:37 PM UTC

parable for someone who will never learn

let's say atlas' body is full of birds and when he is crushed to death they will escape free and resplendent let's say i am atlas and you are the face in the mirror let's say atlas is screaming and crying and begging but you are silent and your face is unmoving atlas' mother gets that worried look on her face and the part of atlas that still loves himself is trying to get him to just put it all down for a second let's say atlas is smoking a cigarette let's say atlas' rib cage is cracking under the pressure and it's worth pointing out that no one will notice atlas is gone until the world starts falling down around his body

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I was remembering when we were new Love was an uncharted land Our time was spent navigating Mapping bodies with both hands And tough times built us mountains To ensure we would grow strong Standing solid through the struggle You were my rock when things went wrong All the lovely sleepless nights Spent texting thoughts and fears Were the beginning of our voyage We were unwitting pioneers Although the departure was scary I knew I had no choice but to start Despite the danger and risk of failure Instincts said 'follow your heart' So we decided to set sail together Though neither had yet steered a ship Our commitment and passion kept us above waves The duration of our trip When the water turned rough and choppy We almost began to sink On the paper used to draw our course Temporarily ran out of ink It was you who saved me from drowning When I foolishly jumped off the boat Abandoned our vessel in fear of shipwreck With one oar you made us float Forgiveness forged a way to shore Filled the pen with tears and blood So we could continue cartography From the place the picture smudged We have come a great distance since that day But still have a lot left to explore Though the diagram of our hearts is complete Life is still showing us more Thick woods Green fields Dry deserts of sand Our feelings guide us through it all Our graph gets larger as time passes And harder for you I fall The route we travelled was complex There were easier by far But the difficult terrain molded us Into the people we now are Our direction was not influenced But entirely our own I'd rather our tumultuous journey Than a simple one alone Because you are my final destination No matter where our path may lead Location is irrelevant When your arms are the only home I need I never knew our relationship Would be the atlas discovered But I hope you realize I'm grateful For each millimeter uncovered I can't explain the overwhelming attraction The magnetism connecting us two But from the moment we met one thing was certain My soul's compass pointed straight to you

0

Jul 26, 2020

Jul 26, 2020 at 11:46 PM UTC

I was remembering when we were new Love was an uncharted land Our time was spent navigating Mapping bodies with both hands And tough times built us mountains To ensure we would grow strong Standing solid through the struggle You were my rock when things went wrong All the lovely sleepless nights Spent texting thoughts and fears Were the beginning of our voyage We were unwitting pioneers Although the departure was scary I knew I had no choice but to start Despite the danger and risk of failure Instincts said 'follow your heart' So we decided to set sail together Though neither had yet steered a ship Our commitment and passion kept us above waves The duration of our trip When the water turned rough and choppy We almost began to sink On the paper used to draw our course Temporarily ran out of ink It was you who saved me from drowning When I foolishly jumped off the boat Abandoned our vessel in fear of shipwreck With one oar you made us float Forgiveness forged a way to shore Filled the pen with tears and blood So we could continue cartography From the place the picture smudged We have come a great distance since that day But still have a lot left to explore Though the diagram of our hearts is complete Life is still showing us more Thick woods Green fields Dry deserts of sand Our feelings guide us through it all Our graph gets larger as time passes And harder for you I fall The route we travelled was complex There were easier by far But the difficult terrain molded us Into the people we now are Our direction was not influenced But entirely our own I'd rather our tumultuous journey Than a simple one alone Because you are my final destination No matter where our path may lead Location is irrelevant When your arms are the only home I need I never knew our relationship Would be the atlas discovered But I hope you realize I'm grateful For each millimeter uncovered I can't explain the overwhelming attraction The magnetism connecting us two But from the moment we met one thing was certain My soul's compass pointed straight to you

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Childless by Michael R. Burch How can she bear her grief? Mightier than Atlas, she shoulders the weight Of one fallen star. Keywords/Tags: mother, mothers, motherhood, child, childless, death, grief, weight, burden, Atlas, epigram, epitaph, elegy, eulogy, lament

0

May 10, 2020

May 10, 2020 at 5:49 AM UTC

michael-r-burch

Childless by Michael R. Burch How can she bear her grief? Mightier than Atlas, she shoulders the weight Of one fallen star. Keywords/Tags: mother, mothers, motherhood, child, childless, death, grief, weight, burden, Atlas, epigram, epitaph, elegy, eulogy, lament

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Not just another dead word from a book But a magical word...straight out of childhood Gathered from a fascination with looking at maps and Atlas books And globes of the World All the different countries in all their different colors With all their fantastic sounding names All spread out in wonderful greens pinks and oranges, yellows reds and purples And then... that wonderful blue sweep of the Pacific...the Pacific ocean. Through the eyes of a young small child The wondrous...sweet Blue Pacific ocean So vast and so full of romance With its mermaids, its whales and its dolphins Coconuts and palm trees and treasured islands Its flying fish and grizzled pirates, Its blue skies forever smiling overhead The surf rolling up onto its sun kissed beaches. .....There long ago I glimpsed the lovely blue of her blouse And the wonderful patterns on it As she lifted me up and spun me around Just like being up on the swing boats, And she laughed with her laughing smiling face And her laughing smiling eyes And I laughed too, out loud and unashamed This was how it should always be And I didn't want it to end Wanted it to go on forever, It brought me a Bluey Bliss And suddenly all this world it was a magic place. She was like Life or Love itself Wanting to embrace you and kiss you And sweep you off your feet Life, it held so much promise and beauty So much wonder and mystery Yea! all was magic in those Summer months The coloured pictures in our comic books The kicking football on the lovely green lawns, The fluttering and flapping of the clothes on the clothes line Were like the sails of a Great Ship... Sweet dreams and sunbeams as we ran out to meet the tide. And still she calls to me today, wild blue ocean How I love... like that sweet feeling of blue The sight of her on a globe or Atlas still And that name like some ancient spell It sends me up into the sky Delights, makes me feel so peaceful The sweet blue Pacific ocean You can...can almost taste it. Sweet intimations of a world that came before, A world underneath...that still lies there...somewhere Whispering like some sweet lost Atlantis Forever calling you back, calling you back home. I'm afraid I can't be more specific About the wonderful, the beautiful ...The Blue Pacific.

0

Apr 25, 2020

Apr 25, 2020 at 10:55 AM UTC

The Blue Pacific

Not just another dead word from a book But a magical word...straight out of childhood Gathered from a fascination with looking at maps and Atlas books And globes of the World All the different countries in all their different colors With all their fantastic sounding names All spread out in wonderful greens pinks and oranges, yellows reds and purples And then... that wonderful blue sweep of the Pacific...the Pacific ocean. Through the eyes of a young small child The wondrous...sweet Blue Pacific ocean So vast and so full of romance With its mermaids, its whales and its dolphins Coconuts and palm trees and treasured islands Its flying fish and grizzled pirates, Its blue skies forever smiling overhead The surf rolling up onto its sun kissed beaches. .....There long ago I glimpsed the lovely blue of her blouse And the wonderful patterns on it As she lifted me up and spun me around Just like being up on the swing boats, And she laughed with her laughing smiling face And her laughing smiling eyes And I laughed too, out loud and unashamed This was how it should always be And I didn't want it to end Wanted it to go on forever, It brought me a Bluey Bliss And suddenly all this world it was a magic place. She was like Life or Love itself Wanting to embrace you and kiss you And sweep you off your feet Life, it held so much promise and beauty So much wonder and mystery Yea! all was magic in those Summer months The coloured pictures in our comic books The kicking football on the lovely green lawns, The fluttering and flapping of the clothes on the clothes line Were like the sails of a Great Ship... Sweet dreams and sunbeams as we ran out to meet the tide. And still she calls to me today, wild blue ocean How I love... like that sweet feeling of blue The sight of her on a globe or Atlas still And that name like some ancient spell It sends me up into the sky Delights, makes me feel so peaceful The sweet blue Pacific ocean You can...can almost taste it. Sweet intimations of a world that came before, A world underneath...that still lies there...somewhere Whispering like some sweet lost Atlantis Forever calling you back, calling you back home. I'm afraid I can't be more specific About the wonderful, the beautiful ...The Blue Pacific.

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no such thing as verbal when you just sit next to me, shoulders burdened by the world and that is my cue to be pliant as you sigh and press yourself deeper into my being. (your face buried in the crook of my neck as i draw small circles on your arm, funny how you look like a child with a halo from the moonlight kissing your crown) and i apologize i cannot make the stars and skies be within your reach or I, better than your early lovers. but if you, so gently, lay your bones where i could keep them until your soul jumps right into you, ready to conquer once again, then be your home I shall. —2:06AM

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Apr 16, 2020

Apr 16, 2020 at 2:11 PM UTC

no such thing as verbal when you just sit next to me, shoulders burdened by the world and that is my cue to be pliant as you sigh and press yourself deeper into my being. (your face buried in the crook of my neck as i draw small circles on your arm, funny how you look like a child with a halo from the moonlight kissing your crown) and i apologize i cannot make the stars and skies be within your reach or I, better than your early lovers. but if you, so gently, lay your bones where i could keep them until your soul jumps right into you, ready to conquer once again, then be your home I shall. —2:06AM

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Welcome to suicide city. Where the first nations population dies quickly. Let me be your tour guide for this deep dive about suicide through aboriginal eyes. The youth, grown up in abuse, turn to drugs or a noose. Bruised, ***** used with no escape in view. So they try to run but succumb to the world's weight and numb themselves to just live another day. At last, atlas could take a break, because our children now hold the world's weight. As the parents lay near by, needles riddled near them and beer bottles laid beside. Too weak to stand, to protect or provide, The proper care for their youth so they some coincide with disgrace as the kids stare and face what fate may lay. Five times more than normal do native men die. Crushed by the world, by the weight of the skies. They are tough on the exterior but broken on the inside. Not taught to talk so they take their own lives. Young women perish about 8 times quicker. With a voice of her own but no one will hear her. Abused she endures so she drowns herself in liquor. She succumbs to darkness, to the thoughts that no one would miss her. Our suicide rates are higher than any other. Tear stricken parents burying their sons and daughters. So many are to blame but the true culprits are our mothers and fathers. We suffer from what I call, cultural deprivation. We suffer of separation of our own. Children were forced to face colonization alone. Put into schools where our people were told. That our way of life was a lie and they're saving our souls. Only to be the harbingers of my peoples demise. They abducted our youth to save them from their "lies". Separated from their families was truly a tragedy. Those priest and nuns messed them up and never taught them to love. So they were release to the world with nothing but a shove and a shrug.

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Feb 7, 2020

Feb 7, 2020 at 7:17 PM UTC

Welcome to suicide city. Where the first nations population dies quickly. Let me be your tour guide for this deep dive about suicide through aboriginal eyes. The youth, grown up in abuse, turn to drugs or a noose. Bruised, ***** used with no escape in view. So they try to run but succumb to the world's weight and numb themselves to just live another day. At last, atlas could take a break, because our children now hold the world's weight. As the parents lay near by, needles riddled near them and beer bottles laid beside. Too weak to stand, to protect or provide, The proper care for their youth so they some coincide with disgrace as the kids stare and face what fate may lay. Five times more than normal do native men die. Crushed by the world, by the weight of the skies. They are tough on the exterior but broken on the inside. Not taught to talk so they take their own lives. Young women perish about 8 times quicker. With a voice of her own but no one will hear her. Abused she endures so she drowns herself in liquor. She succumbs to darkness, to the thoughts that no one would miss her. Our suicide rates are higher than any other. Tear stricken parents burying their sons and daughters. So many are to blame but the true culprits are our mothers and fathers. We suffer from what I call, cultural deprivation. We suffer of separation of our own. Children were forced to face colonization alone. Put into schools where our people were told. That our way of life was a lie and they're saving our souls. Only to be the harbingers of my peoples demise. They abducted our youth to save them from their "lies". Separated from their families was truly a tragedy. Those priest and nuns messed them up and never taught them to love. So they were release to the world with nothing but a shove and a shrug.

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somewhere in manhattan, atlas carries the weight of his heart — a suitcase of battle scars and cigarettes that strayed too far from his lips. each vein, a thread for all these sorry poems that cannot write themselves. each valve, a compartment for spent lights and all these fallen dandelion clocks — all centuries' worth and his body, it longs to rest like a mass of dahlias and complexities, coming undone in the arms of a funeral song. i remember someone telling me it's easier to talk about yourself in third person. and yet, how do you depersonalize and say that in there, sadness has lovingly grown its flesh — like wild grass spreading free in abandoned lawns, albeit carefully contained, carefully covered by these patches of skin so as to not flood — to not spill at every sigh and yet, there can never be enough breaths taken, breaths given away to keep it all intact, to fend off all the pecking, the gnawing at the skin from its forgotten corners, now a feast to a flight of vultures. i now know why it's easier to talk about yourself in third person. somewhere in manhattan, atlas shakes, crumbles, collapses. the flesh gives in; the arms cave in under all this mass: this weight of a heart, this weight of the skies — they just slip right off your hands and words don't see the difference.

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Feb 6, 2020

Feb 6, 2020 at 10:06 AM UTC

somewhere in manhattan, atlas carries the weight of his heart — a suitcase of battle scars and cigarettes that strayed too far from his lips. each vein, a thread for all these sorry poems that cannot write themselves. each valve, a compartment for spent lights and all these fallen dandelion clocks — all centuries' worth and his body, it longs to rest like a mass of dahlias and complexities, coming undone in the arms of a funeral song. i remember someone telling me it's easier to talk about yourself in third person. and yet, how do you depersonalize and say that in there, sadness has lovingly grown its flesh — like wild grass spreading free in abandoned lawns, albeit carefully contained, carefully covered by these patches of skin so as to not flood — to not spill at every sigh and yet, there can never be enough breaths taken, breaths given away to keep it all intact, to fend off all the pecking, the gnawing at the skin from its forgotten corners, now a feast to a flight of vultures. i now know why it's easier to talk about yourself in third person. somewhere in manhattan, atlas shakes, crumbles, collapses. the flesh gives in; the arms cave in under all this mass: this weight of a heart, this weight of the skies — they just slip right off your hands and words don't see the difference.

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I feel the weight of the skies rest upon my shoulder blades And the burn and stretch of the meat beneath my skin As I carry it, sweat rolls down my temples And I walk an endless winding path I look up and I see you Sitting on your high throne Cackling like the mighty claps of thunder Voice bleeding into the world’s innermost core Shaking the ground beneath me As if to taunt me To mock my ever wobbling knees To tell me “This is what you deserve!” I weaken I fall My body limps and meets the darkened soil with a loud thud A sound that rippled through the atmosphere as I wither away The skies collapse Breaking and shattering into thousands, millions of glass shards Showering the earth like rainfall A reminder of my defeat Of the weakness I possessed Of the weight of it all.

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Nov 4, 2019

Nov 4, 2019 at 7:07 AM UTC

The Weight of the Skies

I feel the weight of the skies rest upon my shoulder blades And the burn and stretch of the meat beneath my skin As I carry it, sweat rolls down my temples And I walk an endless winding path I look up and I see you Sitting on your high throne Cackling like the mighty claps of thunder Voice bleeding into the world’s innermost core Shaking the ground beneath me As if to taunt me To mock my ever wobbling knees To tell me “This is what you deserve!” I weaken I fall My body limps and meets the darkened soil with a loud thud A sound that rippled through the atmosphere as I wither away The skies collapse Breaking and shattering into thousands, millions of glass shards Showering the earth like rainfall A reminder of my defeat Of the weakness I possessed Of the weight of it all.

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As Atlas rises above the world He looks down and kneels As you enter the bottleneck You give in to the flow and yield

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Oct 3, 2019

Oct 3, 2019 at 9:34 PM UTC

As Atlas rises above the world He looks down and kneels As you enter the bottleneck You give in to the flow and yield

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Pleiades seven maidens sigh, The sweeping, coruscating gown of stars, In stillness-rapt, the cosmos in collective gasp, At Atlas, his amalgamated bulk of last breath. ********* We breathe in the gown of ending, The snake tongues of our synapses Flicking out the decomposed praeludium For the saprobic stars to feed off the detritus of night.

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Aug 24, 2019

Aug 24, 2019 at 10:45 PM UTC

The Modern Music of the Spheres

Pleiades seven maidens sigh, The sweeping, coruscating gown of stars, In stillness-rapt, the cosmos in collective gasp, At Atlas, his amalgamated bulk of last breath. ********* We breathe in the gown of ending, The snake tongues of our synapses Flicking out the decomposed praeludium For the saprobic stars to feed off the detritus of night.

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"Tell me, Atlas, What is Heavier: The world or its people's hearts?"

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Jul 14, 2019

Jul 14, 2019 at 3:04 AM UTC

I feel sad for no reason

"Tell me, Atlas, What is Heavier: The world or its people's hearts?"

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Your eyes are the world The world is covered In water Of rivers Of seas Of oceans No land above it No land hiding below The world, your eyes, is Glimmering black You are past the blues The blues got dimmer Are your thoughts get Darker Is the blackness A cry for the Universe's unfainess To you? A surrender from the Reckless abandon You've put yourself into? An echo of the Void, the emptiness, the abyss You try so hard to fill? The currents from your Oceans Are ever so wild The waves get bigger As days go by The waves wash away Your sorrows, your grief The waves splash you Back to reality Back to uncertainty And at the crack of dawn At the crack of doom The waves drown The sound of your Heart shattering to Pieces like dreams That turned into Nightmares The world is lawless There are no walls at the ends The water is falling The world is closing in The Universe whispers "It's time to rest, my child, Your world is heavy, Your mind is light A world uninhabitable Even for you Rest easy and Sleep til you forget The life you think you Deserve."

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May 12, 2019

May 12, 2019 at 10:52 AM UTC

Your eyes are the world The world is covered In water Of rivers Of seas Of oceans No land above it No land hiding below The world, your eyes, is Glimmering black You are past the blues The blues got dimmer Are your thoughts get Darker Is the blackness A cry for the Universe's unfainess To you? A surrender from the Reckless abandon You've put yourself into? An echo of the Void, the emptiness, the abyss You try so hard to fill? The currents from your Oceans Are ever so wild The waves get bigger As days go by The waves wash away Your sorrows, your grief The waves splash you Back to reality Back to uncertainty And at the crack of dawn At the crack of doom The waves drown The sound of your Heart shattering to Pieces like dreams That turned into Nightmares The world is lawless There are no walls at the ends The water is falling The world is closing in The Universe whispers "It's time to rest, my child, Your world is heavy, Your mind is light A world uninhabitable Even for you Rest easy and Sleep til you forget The life you think you Deserve."

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