#betelgeuse
i've watched 677 fortnights,
and got bored 'til 678th came.
today i might see the merry lights,
dance, as it tells me it's strange name.
show wonders; of depths and heights,
no blunders, just spectacle or same.
to clear and flush all those petty spites,
watch betelgeuse get engulf with flame.
Oct 18, 2015
Oct 18, 2015 at 11:59 AM UTC
The many voices of the evening
gramophone the sky voice the cell phone
the tablet the notebook, that monotone
observer of mutations purveyor of maladies
the persistence of memories, pale pink light sink
burning in the fires lighting up the skies
an old pang, smitten clang, the pain balm
mug-life, pen-knife, kettle-strife, all the sheaves
them echo-songs that haunt the drill-wells
that are cut wounded and wear fetching
chants, to an yearning oblation
bay leaf, curry leaf, yes, them colander coriander
there's a rhyme of charlies, looping from
our holy wars to now our holy hours with
the ombudsman, the omniman, the only God
who used to thunder for the ****
old Zeus, the Lord of Betelgeuse, him who we
called dead, exhumation, exculpation, exaltation
an ancient loneliness that calls from the nether
depths, now science, now freedom, now pagan.
Jan 14, 2015
Jan 14, 2015 at 3:20 PM UTC