"astrologist" poems
Flat as a painting and unmoving the sky lays over us
sits on the far horizons all points of the compass
we wait for the Moons spectacle in complete stillness
Pagan and Christian, Jew and Muslim, all religions and none.
Poet and scientist, astrologer and astrologist, werewolves and freaks.
The Moon shines without discrimination, while lovers wait with bated breath .
Nov 14, 2016
Nov 14, 2016 at 9:51 AM UTC
Burnt umber in the morning
As the planets do align,
Ominously holding
To the Zodiac design,
Reminding us that somewhere
In the Bible, it was said,
That by the twelfth year of this century
Whole populations would be dead.
They say it is upon us
Those children of the moon,
They say the fingers of our destiny
Shall fall upon us soon.
Calamitous catastrophe
To befall the western world
That fiscal debt implosion
Will result with fraud unfurled,
When abnormal plate subduction
Along the continent's divide
Will magnify the earthquake swarm
Across the planet's hide.
When enormous ring tsunamis
Emanate from deep at sea
To cascade onto shorelines
To wreak extreme calamity.
Across the globe, Astrologist's,
Say something huge is due.
Their whispers quietly amplified
To percolate to you.
What little can be done or said
It's very hard to say
Because authorities worldwide
Refuse to recognize this day,
They won't readily acknowledge
Those symptoms verily to hand,
The frequent natural disasters
Occurring in each land.
Contagion is contagious
The whispers may be wrong,
Perhaps the future holds for us
A vastly different song,
But when the moon is full and white
And I look into her face,
I discern a bleak anxiety
Destined for the human race
I see mother nature poised
To take the heavy, upper hand
With an implacable demeanor
And un empathetic stand.
Burnt umber in the morning
As the planets do align,
Ominously holding
To the Zodiac design,
Reminding us that somewhere
In the Bible, it was said,
That by the twelfth year of this century
Whole populations would be dead.
Marshalg
@theBach
In the cold moonlight
20 May 2010
May 19, 2010
May 19, 2010 at 3:04 AM UTC
Your mind is an archivist's wet dream, I'd like to spend an indefinite amount of time there and observe the inner workings
like a astrologist, seeing your constellations of thought...
it also doesn't hurt that your stubbled jawline
seems to speak volumes, and I wonder
if it's chiseled proportions would mind me using them
as braille.
I'd like to know the caverns of your mouth
more intimately--
please whisper prose on my collarbones...
and I don't believe in love at first sight,
but maybe, love at first poem.
Nov 15, 2014
Nov 15, 2014 at 11:26 AM UTC
I saw it a few days ago
I chanced a glance into the void
The place in which all emotions fall and seclude themselves
The place where there are no stars and there is nothing but loud space
She'd just tore away from me
A small tear in the muslin
But she pulled and pulled
Until the void was exposed in my shredded star chart
That subtle darkness in the undertones undulating thickly
Turbulent waves beneath the glorified surface thinness
And behind the closed door it-
It was just a second really
And the hopeless scientist behind me
The dark and big and pragmatic and meek
He didn't see
But he knew
And he wanted it back
And again
She left me frayed
In another winter
Before I could look to the skies and find meaning
When our world was lit only by the fires of forthcoming fears and futile flickers
What clouded the far-off pinpricks, the soft pinching of reality knocking at my door?
It was her straight-edge fragility
And her straight-edge solution
Now her world is lit by a different kind of fire
A fire that numbs
So she said
A fire that heals
So she claims
A flickering flame that destroys every membrane of my being
And binds my hands to my feet
And shoots wildly across the sky
So I cry
And I weep
And I, a universe of atoms
feel like a lost atom in her universe
I safely encased in my crinkled paper, but
Hot holes slowly eat their way through
No maps or constellations face any competition before her
But all she sees is a world of comets and fire
My short fuse is wilted
So she unzips her skin with a zippo
And she freezes time
And she runs across my horizon
Bright, beautiful, blazing
She is forever above my hands
Her path unseen and unforseeable
A spectators daydream
The astrologists' nightmare
Aug 12, 2013
Aug 12, 2013 at 12:04 AM UTC
You turned your back on me and let the slowly closing door swallow the image of you walking away. That was the last time we talked. That was the last time you look at me. And I swear to any astrologist in this world that that is how the sun sets.
Jan 28, 2016
Jan 28, 2016 at 10:01 PM UTC
I danced with you and forgot all my regrets.
I remember when you cried for me. I remember when they made you cry, and then there was a short circuit, and the light bulb above us exploded.
Then I said, "I wonder how many light bulbs it takes to change a person," and we both laughed.
I still remember all the times you said you were ugly, and how hard I tried to make you believe otherwise.
I love you just the way you are, but you don't see you like I see you.
You shouldn't try so hard to be perfect, perfect should be trying to be you.
You never did believe me tho.
You planted seeds of love in the empty spaces of my well-worn heart,
and my heart told my head "let it grow,"
but my head told my heart "this time, no."
And in the end, we're nothing but space dust drifting across a pale blue dot, trying to find our way back to the stars.
And I saw those starry galaxies in your eyes, so what hope did I ever have?
I'm no astrologist, in fact I'm not much for academics at all,
But I would never tire of studying the chemistry of how you touched my skin
And set fire to my mind
And how
you sat down next to be and I forgot how to breathe,
In which case,
I am the most knowledgeable in my field
Jan 16, 2018
Jan 16, 2018 at 1:32 AM UTC
Once in a while
in a beautiful plain,
When I was roaming
Then It has happened.
Surrounded by many
and reading their hand,
surprisingly found
I, Astrologist friend.
Seeking opinion of
friend or a foe,
was anti to pride
and anti my ego.
But such was desire
I could not resist ,
From knowing my future
And showing my hand.
Aay Amitabh Suman
Jan 5, 2018
Jan 5, 2018 at 7:49 AM UTC
There's other way you spell Emilia
With a E not A
Normally Emilia originates from Italy or Spain.
But according to astrologist, if you compatible you may have found your
Soul mates.
Emilia is cute, **** girl who has boys
Acting all manly around her.
She only has a few close friends but lots of friends all together.
Usually the name Emilia not with A it's Italian descent who has a great body.
She's also amazing girl who usually doesn't have many.
She's shine, cute as a button definitely seriously nice.
Emilia is super artistic and willing to
Do anything for others.
Oct 4, 2018
Oct 4, 2018 at 8:51 PM UTC