"astronomically" poems
Lately,
When I’ve tried
Opening the gates
The locks to my kingdom
It’s simply impossible to accomplish.
I’m terrified,
Terrified,
Of being ‘open.’
What does ‘open’ really even mean?
Am I supposed to investigate
Every dazzling petunia?
Conduct a survey among my local hydrangeas?
Or maybe I should consider taking a hibiscus
As my teacher
In order to learn the art of blooming.
Flowers mastered
The art of opening up to the world,
Without the fear that those around it
Will shine more astronomically
More brilliantly
Than they.
Yes, I wish I was a flower,
I wish I did not care.
I need to learn
How not to care
Like a flower.
Flowers may be ‘weak’
But they’re still stronger
Than me.
My skin is too soft-
My shell might crack
And it will break open
And you will see
That there’s nothing left inside me
And I will carve myself open
To prove it to you.
If I open up
Like a flower,
I’m sure to sustain an injury
Or a lot.
Trust is a butterfly
Easy to crush
Impossible to take
And wow
When you have it
It’s an amazing thing.
But when it’s gone,
Oh it’s an
Ugly
Mangled
Dead thing.
When did this trust
Fall out of my chest?
Did it shatter when it fell?
Because it’s sure broken
Into a million pieces
And it is mangled and ugly.
I am so broken
So fully broken
Hugs are poison
And your touch
Could burn the heart
Out of me.
I’m just anxious
I’m always nervous
My veins itch and
When your eyes dance on my form
I become physically ill
And when you put a hand on my shoulder
I’ll jump like a suicidal bird in flight.
These nerves are eating away
I’m being dissolved by their horrid bleach
And my organs are already mush.
Mar 27, 2014
Mar 27, 2014 at 1:54 PM UTC
Listening to your heartbeat like it's a story that'll never be told again
listening to your heartbeat like it's the first edition vinyl
of my favourite song
and the only copy ever made
listening to your heartbeat
like the universe is sending me a message
through the whistles of the wind
listening to your heartbeat like science is trying to contact me
via the thuds of your *****
and justify the inexplicable
of how two astronomically unidentifiable catastrophes
clashed and become one planet
in a galaxy surrrounded by false stars
that actually turned out to be passing planes
Dec 5, 2014
Dec 5, 2014 at 10:51 PM UTC
as soon as she sees it she wants it is entitled to it while she is stealing it she begins elaborate lie everybody knows if she truly wants it she has means everybody knows she is gorgeous movie actress celebrity starlet awesome accessory genius she convinces herself she did not steal it the darling delicate chain with finely crafted handcuff clasp and accompanying key she wears it effortlessly just another imperial trifle hanging around her exquisite throat she has no idea how it got there she may have a drug problem a little dizzy even careless but she is no thief what with her magnificent beauty idyllic body prominent discography why would anyone accuse her she is submerged in deep denial why with so much to lose and absolutely nothing but tiny shimmering embellishment to gain why do tell would anyone point a finger at her she probably wasn’t even ever there at that dicey store she never tried on the astronomically overpriced bling it may have been her dodgy handlers or stylist’s suspect mismanagement and subsequent loan hypothesis she is positively not a thief it’s too insignificant an item to squabble about a mere gold necklace the whole incident ridiculously overblown cruel in fact she hates the miserable paltry piece of jewelry here take it back she insists it never graced her illustrious neck if anything perhaps a cheap ploy by Venice Beach shop to enhance it’s value oh the genuine necklace that she stole
Feb 9, 2011
Feb 9, 2011 at 12:12 PM UTC
It's the little things that
drives one mad,
a snapped shoelace,
on your way to the
liquor store in the
driving snow.
A cockroach in
the cereal,
dead batteries, when all you
want to do is listen
to music.
Shifty eyed people in
my house, quietly plotting
my demise.
It's the tree of
life, cut down to clear
space for a parking lot.
No love from my brother.
Another frosty day in April.
Cigarette prices constantly
rising astronomically.
Footsteps in an empty
hallway.
It's Just a hop, skip, and
a jump to the madhouse.
Apr 29, 2022
Apr 29, 2022 at 10:42 PM UTC
as i get older, i realize bonds are not as easily forged and the value of friendship increases astronomically
i realize how long it's been since i've been touched
and remember how i used to hug each and every one of my friends when i was younger
and now it's a wave, a quick nod of the head before briskly walking out the door, no looking back, no checking to see if everything is okay
i realize loneliness isn't saved for 2 am revelations
loneliness is saved in the mundane moments-
watching tv on the couch
wanting to tell someone how i feel, but not wanting to annoy anyone
trying to sleep in the middle of the day because there's nothing to look forward to and oblivion is better than the soul crushing disappointment
of loneliness
Jul 6, 2014
Jul 6, 2014 at 11:22 PM UTC
You don't see it, or understand it
I could frankly care less if you do
From the depths of my heart
Referring it to as an ocean
It forms a tsunami when I'm around you
From the depths of my heart
Referring to it astronomically
Millions of shooting stars run across the sky for you
From the depths of my heart
Referring it to everything we are
We are love, in the finest forms.
Aug 27, 2015
Aug 27, 2015 at 12:46 AM UTC
I can't seem to focus
and I don't seem to notice
I am far,
I'm living but so far.
I tried to travel back
but something was pulling me
Even in my darkest hours,
You were there.
Watching over me
like the ten thousand beautiful
stars that you are,
A sun
astronomically great
I was awakened;
when I was with you on my own
all the pain of yesterday disappeared.
You're such a dream to me
but that will not be justice
the patience you had with me and all along
you were right there in front of me
Just when i thought
there was no light that
breaks up the dark
You were there.
They say
Allah is one
it's true Allah is one
The one that was the Light In My Darkness
Sep 14, 2020
Sep 14, 2020 at 2:20 PM UTC
The room is clear and the air is filtered
Two chairs for me and her, to separate and segregate
I grind my teeth and I clinch my fist, to the point where
I experience near sudden paralysis in my right hand,
and I think to myself, "I didn't love you because you were rich".
No such things as unaccepted apologies.
Between the two pillars of our own truth, there stands 32 Dr. Phils,
and each one attempts to explain to me
on how to be a reasonable and rational man,
so I can grow old with her, and learn how to fly without having any mosquito wings.
As I sit impatiently in this draconian chair of imprisonment with no restraints,
I think of what we once had and what we can still accomplish
by not believing in things such as unaccepted apologies.
By realizing that we are no longer on training wheels,
That the jagged surface that bridges us,
From a love that can shave diamonds and convert children into angels after death.
And when we get to that bridge, we will see ourselves with our children
as they walk and crawl to our bodies,
infesting their love across our fat bellies with their eyes and their drooling mouths.
I want our children to learn their first words that signify the exact representation
of our relationship;
their vivid sounds of "mamas, dadas, goo-goos, ga-gas"
hanging to our ears like raindrops on windshields,
like a mobile softly swinging over their cribs.
I relinquish myself from this seat as I run to hers,
to grab her, to tell her how ****** this situation is.
How our internal and legal battles are astronomically indifferent
To the spheric gift from God that has shun His light to your tiny stomach,
like the flickering spark of a dying flash.
Aug 22, 2013
Aug 22, 2013 at 8:47 PM UTC
I’d spent months
working on the vector-calculations,
checking, verifying, rechecking, rechecking, rechecking
in a circular-order, a daily ritual,
infecting my mind with worry.
Such things were important,
so very critical for mission success.
A careless subtraction,
a meaningless missed-detail,
one minor error in the numbers
and my chances went up astronomically.
The chances I would not make it back,
not make it back to see all those nice things
going on down on the surface.
Strange, how your mind can play tricks on you up here,
this lonely place where dreams are made
& lost. I know she’ll be sorry when she finds out
about my mistake, but things
should have been better between us.
Sadly, they weren’t.
Jan 3, 2014
Jan 3, 2014 at 11:16 AM UTC
It seemed your hands could mold me
into whatever you deemed appropriate that week,
while I let you do whatever you pleased.
We collided at rapid speeds,
and neither of us would ever
accept blame for the damage done.
Now, after the destruction has ceased
to amuse you, you've moved on.
You've no bow, and no arrow,
but always a target, nonetheless.
Each one always harder than the last.
In the end, we'll still be friends
bound by mutual and situational obligations.
We'll run from the awkwardness
and try not to drown in the depths
of denial, for a little while.
After that, things will most likely be normal,
because astronomically, grudges aren't my forte,
and you're just oblivious to the pain
you've caused me. In the mean time,
I'm nobody's girl, and if you were to ever
come crawling back, it'd be something like
handing me your weapon so I could practice my own shot.
Sep 6, 2015
Sep 6, 2015 at 10:14 PM UTC
It's not often that mere conversation like we had makes me feel so intrigued, but when you sang those few songs your voice made me feel tranquility in a dose I've truly never felt. My heart fluttered, and if I hadn't been floating in a pool I would have had to sit down, my knees were so weak. You couldn't see in the darkness but I was in awe, so much so that if we had been standing in a room full of art, I only could have looked at you.
I swear you turned the night sky into tie dye, a hippy haven for my mind. On heavens hill I found my soul, all my anxieties flowed out. I drank more slowly once your voice came forward, it was much more intoxicating than the lager I had chosen. I knew all these feelings may have been the alcohol, but I decided, **** it. I never feel intrigued, I was so surprised to have my interests peaked, that I would entertain myself and you, because for once, I didn't freeze.
I awoke the next morning, after sleeping off my chemicals, both the ones I ingested and the ones my body produced at the sight of such a pleasing specimen of the female form. I found my head hurting, but remembered the sights I saw, the glow of the stars and string lights, melted in my memory to form a tie dye blot, the colors meddled together. It was as astronomically beautiful as you had been the night before.
Jul 31, 2016
Jul 31, 2016 at 3:47 PM UTC
why the occurrence of something highly improbable should be inherently noteworthy
Here is a way to produce Here is a way to produce
an outcome a poem
almost certainly almost certainly
never seen before in never seen before in
human history human history
and never to be repeated: and never to be repeated:
Shuffle a deck of cards. Shuffle an alphabet.
The resulting deck, assuming The resulting deck of letters
the cards are shuffled correctly, if the letters are shuffled correctly
should only occur on average should only occur on average
every 52 *51 *50 *... 21 shuffles, every 26 *25 *24 *... 21 shuffles,
because this is the number because this is the number
of possible permutations of of possible permutations
52 cards, all equally likely. 26 letters, all equally likely.
This number is incomprehensibly large, on the order of 1068 or 534 using letters
100,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000, 000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000, 000,000,000,000,
(or half that with an alphabet)
Every person on earth could
write a gibberish poem once every nanosecond
for the expected lifetime of the universe and not even put
a dent in that number.
Is this why then is there not a GOOD poem written
every time letters are shuffled about
the astronomically unlikely event
that just took place?
Because letters are not numbers, the subset of sequenced associations called words (in the English language) is about a mere
~ 220,000~
But, each year, an estimated 800 to 1,000 new words
are added to the English language
That is still a heck of a lot of possible combinations and is the reason why the occurrence of something should be inherently noteworthy
at all.
So writing a new combination of words is still pretty difficult,
and writing an intelligible and intelligent
mind moving combination
is a rare thing indeed.
Should you happen to write a poem and get even a single read, that is a pretty miraculous thing because the subset of the billions of English reading persons on Earth who also read poetry habitutualy
read is the square root of pi, or 1.7724537398758821888.
which ain’t a lot of people.
So, if you wrote a really good poem today and a couple of people read it, liked it, that highly improbable event is highly improbable, about the same chance that someone else exists with your exact DNA (excluding any identical twin) is a reallly low number
so, consider yourself really, really special. I do.
Mar 25, 2019
Mar 25, 2019 at 8:12 AM UTC
Ideas and Feelings inevitably start
From deep inside a pregnant heart
Ideas ! But surely the brain is the thing?
Yet brains fall dumb when heart doth sing.
So many a notion is drowned at birth
As for emotion; they often fare worse
For dreams never fly until they’re set free
So “When ?”to release them , you ask of me
Well if ever’s the time to make them true
Then do it today
Whilst that moon’s shining blue.
Well not literally, but astronomically speaking, it is tonight !
Aug 31, 2012
Aug 31, 2012 at 7:14 AM UTC
We are so lucky to be alive.
The chances of you even being here is astronomically finite.
Think.
Ponder.
Startle yourself.
Now, start breathing in and out
as wisps of bliss
slowly
forms mellow quietude.
The perfect medium
to be
who ever you want.
Jan 1, 2014
Jan 1, 2014 at 2:53 AM UTC
I gave Her a star
my Valentine
my Forever Valentine
designation K.I.C.-
ten-thirteen
now bears Her name
a Kepler star
a binary star
so
truthfully
two stars
locked Together
Forever
each attracted to
and repelled by
the other's force
of Gravity
Two immense
uncontrolled
Nuclear Explosions
so gigantic
so astronomically enormous
that their own weight
holds them in place
and keeps them from growing
any larger
Chaos poised
in perfect Balance
these two fireballs
right now
are spinning around each other
in the cold vacuum of deep
extrastellar space
each throwing off enough Heat
and Light
to brighten and warm
a dozen worlds
they spin around each other
Burning
locked together
Dancing
through the void
They have been dancing for
a billion years
and they will keep dancing
for a billion more
They will still be dancing
and burning
together
lighting the dark
long after Our World
has turned to dust
and blown away
and there is no one left
to remember them
But for now
we call them by Her names
And it's not enough
it will never be enough
there's so much more I could do
so much more I must do
But for now
I call them by Her names
so we can look up at night
and see ourselves there
on fire in the void
dancing forever
And so I call them by Her names
my Valentine
my Forever Valentine
Feb 15, 2013
Feb 15, 2013 at 4:40 PM UTC
I was three, four--surely no more
we marched through the old city, I
mostly on father's shoulders, a place
I was perched so often back then
of a thousand dry seas on the moon's
pocked face, only one my father chose to wed
with a bomb crater: Mare Ingenii
to others, you were but a mammoth hole,
ill-timed casualty of the bombers wrath,
but Dad named you for a barren basin
on the dark side of the moon
eons later, I was an ancient ten,
and John Glenn spun thrice around the globe
I then asked if we would live to see the real you,
an astronomically sculpted scoop, two hundred
arctic black miles across
dad said of course,
and I believed him, especially
after I asked when, and he said
a billion years ago
Oct 19, 2015
Oct 19, 2015 at 9:39 PM UTC
I confess in this test that we call life,
We all use, various things, to reduce strife.
In dark times it's hard, to be a light.
Which leads us to getting lost in tunes after a long night.
Now despite whatever's the preferred genre,
I'll manifest what I rep and lay it down upon ya.
Break down your walls with a magnetic new energy,
Crafted in the kitchen and blended so splendidly.
Differences in instances have influenced the bliss in this,
This art is how you choose it
However you view it, we were blessed with music.
I saw you alone, with headphones,
and it was almost sad to see.
I nod as I walk past, casually.
We're both drowning, in you I see the eternal me
It hasn't taken long to see that we connect perfectly.
Our soul is our luxury,
Deeply rooted we have grown astronomically
and by the music we are bound Universally.
It promotes your liberation,
Instilling feelings in you without hesitation, no need for contemplation.
Music will be with you wherever you take it,
Find solace in it's comfort like a security blanket.
My Utmost Significance Isn't Confined
The art lies in what you see within the lines.
Jan 16, 2013
Jan 16, 2013 at 9:13 AM UTC
Some people are cynical about college - it’s rigid, they say - why is it even needed?
Don’t be confused about college - it’s not a place for creativity. You can’t use an essay to wander restlessly through your imagination - you’ll fail - and fail quickly. Universities are places for conscientious minds.
Conscientiousness - the desire to do the needed well and thoroughly - is the best predictor of success in college, in graduate school, in law, in management and anyplace that has structure and rules.
In science, most progress is incremental. Oh sure, there’s the occasional Einstein who changes everything, but that’s rare. The reason science is so powerful is that it allows regular, educated people to advance knowledge one microstep at a time. Imagine a hundred thousand people microstepping and exchanging knowledge and wow, now we’re zooming.
You don’t want a surgeon in their well lit operating theater to have an inspiration and try something new on you. You want them to apply the state-of-the-art procedure diligently and carefully.
Entrepreneurs and artists don’t always do well in college. Those careers require constant “out of the box” thinking. When a person starts a company, there are no rules, it’s necessary for the entrepreneur to make things work on the fly. Artists are almost required to break or create new rules. Conscientiousness certainly plays a part in those fields but it’s not the main predictor of success.
Creativity is necessary - every company needs a small group of people generating new ideas but it’s a high risk, high reward game. Few new ideas pan out - the odds that your idea will be unique, practical, affordable and reach the marketplace at exactly the right time to be successful are astronomically low.
Someone who wants to - who feels they have to be creative - is almost cursed. Yes, it’s ironic that I’m publishing this on a poetry site - but in most cases creative people fail - it’s much better for the average someone to be practical. Practical people are generally more successful in life although the rare creative can be extremely successful (Musk, Jobs, Gates).
Colleges teach how our world works - a simulacrum of what is currently known - in hopes that the student will be able, one day, to ask the next question - the one that will push their particular science ahead that one microstep and move us all into the bright future.
Apr 22, 2022
Apr 22, 2022 at 6:20 PM UTC
Liberal Hillary for notsee Trumpler,
Dempublicans for remocrats,
Because the invisible coup lied,
Hillary's "not perfect", was all
The excuse dinos, linos, sinos, ginos,
Ainos, kremlin kronies, hackers, wicked
Leaks, Bernie or bust bots, needed.
The worst, US intelligence/police industrial
Complex, who, like king george and his
**** Cheney, purposely not preventing the
Attacks on 9-11-01, they didn't prevent the
Hacking of our 11-16 elections, installing
Trumpler and attempting to realize a borne
Again cold war, extreme theft of tax $, etc..
Potential democracy for mediocracy,
Peace and prosperity for Ebony, ivory,
The Black and white supremacies'
Cannibalizing the future, for e.g.,
Tax dolla's, in perfect harmony,
To replicate the past's supposed:
Profits, pleasures, and powers.
$12. to $15. an hour minimum wage,
Reproductive and healthcare rights
Progressed, et al, for the Black
Supremacy getting: a President in 2020,
Potentially, instead of waiting till
2040, 'cause, "once you go Black you
Never go back", extreme war funding, etc..
"...We(e),...", used to know to: not
Grind up the seeds, let our kid's as...
Be, and let them be kids, the real
Deficits realized are astronomically
Higher, like when the trillion ton
Ice cube was dropped in the drink,
Cooling things off for a bit, but,
Heating them up forever, burning,
Flooding, extincting everything. We can,
Individually, turn 360 degrees around,
Back to The Evolution, the future, humans
Will only have if we do. By changing
Everything, swapping criminal insanity
For sanity, exigency for humanity, again.
Apr 4, 2018
Apr 4, 2018 at 3:13 PM UTC
It is utterly preposterous
that so many beautiful people
can believe they aren't lovely
that they can wonder if
anyone has ever loved them
that they can look at themselves and see
hopeless, ugly, worthless
because I have loved enough beautiful people
who didn't know they are beautiful
to let you know that
chances are, if you don't realize your loveliness,
you are beyond heavenly- the only reason no one has told you
is because they were scared you wouldn't love them back.
I have loved enough beautiful people
to trace the trend and absorb the sheer irony of it
that all the astronomically lovely men and women
doubt that it even exists.
I breathe, dream, and have cried over you,
O chariot of the gods, you vessel of angels,
I have woken to your sight imprinted on my eyelids,
I have woven your every word into my poetry.
It is utterly preposterous
that so many beautiful people
don't see their own beauty
while I live for the sight of it.
Apr 28, 2014
Apr 28, 2014 at 12:11 AM UTC
Most of who you used to be, atomically,
is not the same as who you see, anatomically;
your atoms float off fancy free, autonomically,
and right now could be part of me, astronomically!
Or maybe a tree.
Sep 3, 2015
Sep 3, 2015 at 2:11 AM UTC
we took the same bus
astronomically
math
will work things out
Oct 25, 2014
Oct 25, 2014 at 1:26 PM UTC
upon coming to the exit and birth, beginning, origin of the supermarket, I had the vision I was pushing my own body out of the morgue/into the abyss.
sleek, ultra-modern, aseptic carrion floor, processed through checkout, aisles, background fuzz, and the pointless chatter of deciding upon this or that alienated labour product.
the worthless time, the bare destitution, the surging eyes fixed across a nothingness that reduced both you and i to economic ex--
a holy verification of existence together in this ******* astronomically ******* up world.
blood at my index, slit along the serrated edge of a tin, metal scrap, upon a mountain of flesh; empire, bread and sons.
mass, ***** incarceration, brand loyalty, ethical spending, assimilation; all wallets bleed the same.
my race, my class, my gender, my age; DIY elevator pitch.
there.s nothing left.
there.s no.thing lft.
there.s n.thing .ft.
th.re.s g.f.
h.re.
e.
fine thread through the arched belly of a bleached whale, blood mixed with the grease, and salt, and death.
Oct 29, 2017
Oct 29, 2017 at 12:18 AM UTC
When you're yare, and find yourself
Please come and swipe me from the shelf
Afore it's too tardy
Afore I wither away to dust
Don't let this be your most astronomically immense regret
Take a leap of faith and trust
Please don't be apologetic
The damage is done
Crumpled, torn paper
There is no regalement
You may cerebrate your not right
But to me, your impeccable
Why can't things be different
Who do you forfend
I'm falling for you
I'll promise I'll be better
My heart you have too
Apr 28, 2017
Apr 28, 2017 at 9:56 AM UTC
So,
you're a physicist,
waxing lyrical around the stars but
being clinical about there being
life on Mars.
How topical, how very
short sighted and
astronomically speaking, how anatomically we're seeking something
similar to us.
The very chemicals of extra terrestrials are in our genes
(or so it seems)
we are just an alien, a species foreign to this shore,a
stopping off point to a world of more,
so you're a physicist?
You must have missed the last bus home.
Jan 25, 2015
Jan 25, 2015 at 4:33 PM UTC