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"betelgeuse" poems
*he was riding a beamer breezer into the thick foggy Red Mist along a steep rising road that seemingly ceased to exist having relished the taste of elixir intoxication elevated his state of mind inebriated with exuberance of life on stairway to heaven he drove blind he wanted to ride fast and free though his mind was strangled his body refused to be tied up in a life cord entangled soon he experienced an impact deafening his senses, the slumber's fang eyes closed in sombre sleep but he crossed the great divide across the big bang he saw many a glittering diamonds cuboids of tempered glass in shards glittering with iridescence against the dark a tarry sky filled with shattered stars It seemed like a surreal dream his body felt light like its floating amidst the heavenly constellation of orion saw he, the betelgeuse with ruddiness exploding the mystic dream faded away awakened to eternal life with closed eyes rung down the curtain he joined the choir mother nature singing him a lullaby*
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Nov 12, 2014
Nov 12, 2014 at 1:29 PM UTC
Transcendence
In ancient times long long ago, when Ptolemy looked up into the firmament- with wonder and amaze, to see the heavens glowing there- he little knew of how the Gods did sport and play! When Cassiopeia ope'd her ***** and let forth her music in the heavens, with joy the stars did dance and planets in their fundament  strove to eclipse each other vying with all their might to illuminate-the heavens more bright with their ethereal light and splendor. Andromeda began to dance, then Sirius  and Betelgeuse, Virgo too with Capricorn- Herculese and Aquila-Regulus with Ursa minor, all the planets danced but one, and that with angry stance, refused to join the dance,   Mars with red countenance stood aloof feigning reproof,    Look carefully, and you will see, the stars still dance for you and me.
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Jun 18, 2014
Jun 18, 2014 at 11:08 AM UTC
In ancient times.
The "dark planet" it's called because a stars light can't reflect a single atom of brightness visible to the eye. Suspended in space light years and light years away an entire new world with a blackened sky. A human hand can't touch a surface too hot for clouds, that swims beneath supernovae, absorbing the potential of sunrise. The journey would pass through the Pillars of Creation around Sirius and Betelgeuse and Proxima Centuri. If I could explore many a glittering nebulae, with Sagittarius I could speculate and with comets could I pry. But on a marble's where we've thrived, and speculated a silver rock, why not look deeper to the veil of explosion And, with that, the wonders that colour our sky?
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May 1, 2014
May 1, 2014 at 7:14 PM UTC
TrES-2b
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.
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Jan 14, 2015
Jan 14, 2015 at 3:20 PM UTC
The persistence of memories
I'm jumping into new with this trampoline pad I'm hating every poem I wrote because they were too sad I have passion flowing through all my veins It twists around the hurts and pains My passion is like a river, never gonna sit With any dam in the way, it'll jump over it I've felt like ash from a fire just extinguished All dreams I once had had been relinquished Then after a final heartbreak, it sparked some emotion A spark in the ashes, a wind now in motion And with this sole spark, I will use my one chance to fan it After jumping into the unknown, this time I will land it I am a phoenix rising from the ashes, no longer defied My heart is beating once more, but it never really died I am no longer just a bird flying above I am an eagle, soaring from self-love I used to lay at the bottom of the sea, feeling entirely worthless But now I've remembered to just swim up to the surface I feel like a rose in a bush, used to being tricked But for once in my life, I was happy not being picked And I know that we're no longer looking at the stars and crying But I'm laying there by myself, eyeing Betelgeuse and Orion If someone looks into my life, thinking they're so smart They'll see lots of my friendships are falling apart I've been gossiped about, lied to, insulted, from the entirety of night to day But for once it didn't matter, and I simply walked away.
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Oct 2, 2024
Oct 2, 2024 at 7:34 PM UTC
A Revival
I'll say it now and I've said it before; the best book I've ever read is about the paradoxes of war. A friend asked a question, then added "But spare me the lecture." I told him the best book I've ever read was about architecture. An alien sent a question from his head telepathically to mine, So I thought of that book I once read of a man unstuck in time. (If the title was placed here, it would just almost rhyme) Near Betelgeuse, I picked up a man in need of a ride I asked where he was headed, and he said, "Nowhere in mind." He had a book with him. It was some sort of guide. I once kicked the crap around with a young kid in a hat. He looked down at my hands and said, "Hey, what's that?" I told him it was a book full of phonies and jerks. He nodded, then lit a cigarette. There was blood on his shirt A man once recited, Word for word, A book I recognized after having heard. I said, "That's my favorite!" And he gave me a look. The best book I've ever read was about burning books. I once played God, and gave a dead thing new life, But it was so grotesque that I had to run away and hide. A tormented and wretched human imitation. Made me think of a book about a man tortured by his own creation. One time I was reading a book above mentioned, When a man came up to me and asked a most impertinent question. He said, "I see you reading all the time, but have you ever read the greatest book of all time?" I glared at him and said, "No I have not, but I've heard much about it. It's a very popular book, but I do without it." He said I should reconsider. That it's not one to pass. I told him to take that **** book, and shove it up his ***
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Nov 26, 2012
Nov 26, 2012 at 12:17 AM UTC
Allusions
I'll say it now and I've said it before; the best book I've ever read is about the paradoxes of war. A friend asked a question, then added "But spare me the lecture." I told him the best book I've ever read was about architecture. An alien sent a question from his head telepathically to mine, So I thought of that book I once read of a man unstuck in time. (If the title was placed here, it would just almost rhyme) Near Betelgeuse, I picked up a man in need of a ride I asked where he was headed, and he said, "Nowhere in mind." He had a book with him. It was some sort of guide. I once kicked the crap around with a young kid in a hat. He looked down at my hands and said, "Hey, what's that?" I told him it was a book full of phonies and jerks. He nodded, then lit a cigarette. There was blood on his shirt A man once recited, Word for word, A book I recognized after having heard. I said, "That's my favorite!" And he gave me a look. The best book I've ever read was about burning books. I once played God, and gave a dead thing new life, But it was so grotesque that I had to run away and hide. A tormented and wretched human imitation. Made me think of a book about a man tortured by his own creation. One time I was reading a book above mentioned, When a man came up to me and asked a most impertinent question. He said, "I see you reading all the time, but have you ever read the greatest book of all time?" I glared at him and said, "No I have not, but I've heard much about it. It's a very popular book, but I do without it." He said I should reconsider. That it's not one to pass. I told him to take that **** book, and shove it up his ***
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37
around the turn of the year   Orion looks at me    head on on my little loggia the brilliance of the sky in a clear winter night is awesome and even if I did not    know the names of the stars    that give Orion shape Rigel, Betelgeuse I would start wondering about design and meaning and how I figure in it     if at all    whether my astronomer friends    have terms and explanations    does not really matter    it is I    who has to come to terms    with what I see     with the endlessness    of the universe the brilliance of its appearance and the feeling that    in all of this my own insignificance might be just that
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Mar 11, 2015
Mar 11, 2015 at 8:23 PM UTC
Orion
you are my big sun and i am the earth revolving around you yet irrelevant in comparison to the endless possibilities even beyond our galaxy i am not forced to depend on you but you are my source of energy and yet aside from countless stars that are out there you are the one providing me life and from all the places i could be i am here orbiting around you 365 days a year there's sirius and betelgeuse and a trillion billion others but you are the star i choose there's andromeda and dwarf galaxies and a trillion billion others but near you is where i want to be always revolved around you still left to discover the unknown but i prefer the status quo for you are my sun my sol my aubade bright star and if you were to disappear along with you i will leave my dear
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Jun 6, 2013
Jun 6, 2013 at 1:04 PM UTC
center of my universe
You remember that cow they told us about? The one that jumped over the moon? Well. It never came back. It’s hind legs were so powerful, it’s hooves so sturdy that he jumped from here, on earth, all the way over the moon. All the way through the asteroid belt past Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, and Neptune and even Pluto, that tiny little sphere of ice those *** holes at the International Astronomical Union declassified as a planet in 2006. The cow died before it got there though. Maybe because there’s no oxygen in space though I’ll never be certain. But his body kept on floating. Still propelled by the force it left earth with: a dead black and white cow sailed out of our solar system and into the Arm of Orion. But the light from Rigel and Betelgeuse chased him away. Blue-white and red supergiants have that effect on people. Or cows. Even dead cows. And so, our travelling hero, who I’ve now named Frank, spiralled through 0-gravity and ended up on the other side of the Milky Way. Cygnus. Cygnus’ Arm is what caught him. Cygnus and Frank became good friends. Who could imagine!? A dead cow and swan made of stars! How preposterous. But eventually they spread apart (as all friendships eventually do) and so Frank was left without a companion and drifted off through space once more. And we haven’t heard from him since.
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Feb 3, 2014
Feb 3, 2014 at 1:16 AM UTC
A Swan Made of Stars
The velvet cover of the book Where I enclosed my soul Entangled on the hard pages I painted the lines When the heart whispered. I poured my soul Like I poured honey in my tea Yesterday evening. It flew out and I closed the book To hold it against my chest. To immerse it with the teardrops. To hate the lines and love the velvet. There was no beginning And the end had not even started. But I had so much to say I could not keep it this way. There was love in too many lines The aim of the world And the sugar of the universe. When I heard the whisper of my heart. I put off the candle To see the stars in my soul. And search for the love Between the Betelgeuse and Bellatrix.
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Mar 30, 2015
Mar 30, 2015 at 5:57 AM UTC
Velvet Cover
My heart shines as the moon does At times quiet and peaceful Reliable and for granted taken Silent and beautiful and ignored A waxing and waning cycle Once, full bodied and glowing Light to find love and other hapinesses Too brief a joy it brings For waning must always come Twice, dark, black as deepest night Unseen in the backdrop of sharp stars Leaving a world wrapped in shadow But not so constant are cardiac turnings Not regular as lunar comings and goings Glowing for a day and shadowed for a month Black for a week and shinning for a year Yet just as the moon at times changes Glowing big bright and red in the sky So to does the heart at times change A most wondrous change it is Thrice, bursting bright from my chest Burning bright and fierce to beat the sun Just as the coming fall of giant Betelgeuse Nothing could dim the radiant glory Once more, dim past dark Blacker than black and blacker again Drawing light from all like a singularity What could hope to live with such darkness I sit now on the waxing Or is it waning? Anticipation for the glow on my right Dread for the darkness on my left Which comes? Which comes?
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Jan 23, 2017
Jan 23, 2017 at 4:31 AM UTC
Waxing and Waning
I let my dog out back and watch him because it’s cold out and I’m not wearing a shirt my arms are crossed and I watch as he disappears in the inky blackness and I turn to the sky Mintaka Alnilam Alnitak eyes drawn to Sirius and back to Betelgeuse and Bellatrix Rigel Saiph The Pleiades, and I like to pretend I can find Procyon My ******* and my hands press closer to the glass, and it is freezing yet my eyes are locked on the left of Orion, at a star I don’t know nearly blinding with its luminosity a planet, but one I do not know and it thrills me This is how planets are discovered I think anomalies in the sky that make man wonder it is bright and beautiful and my face is against the window my breath fogs the glass yet still I see the nameless Star— and I open the door, to bring myself closer, to war the cold in hopes that being near will fill me with knowledge and that elusory star will tell me its name And my dog, invisible in the night, jumps back from the door and looks reproachfully at me and I stare at that gorgeous sky and my naked skin is already shivering and my arms cross against my chest as I turn and go back inside, staring at the Pleiades and Orion, and that white-hot star once more.
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Dec 3, 2010
Dec 3, 2010 at 7:16 PM UTC
The Astronomer's Craft
In her final moments, prostrate on the bed, she imagined herself flying through the stars, an intergalactic explorer, discovering new planets and naming new creatures never before seen. She stops at a small blue marvel, flooded with water full of strange fish. She can’t be sure if this is the home she knew or the home she will come to know but she finds it beautiful and tranquil. In the distance, she sees a giant red star. During her flight there, she feels a sadness, as if her body is finally cutting away her tethers and she is now less attached to it, the freedom of exploring the universe at her leisure tainted by the fact she is all alone out here. She always believed a journey was not worth making alone, it just wasn’t the same without someone to share the wonder with. Out here, in the cold darkness of space, the loneliness speared her heart. The red star bulged at its equator ready to burst any moment. Dark spots swirled and danced together on its surface, growing and cooling and shrinking and disappearing, new ones soon to take their places. She flew around to the other side and saw herself, stretched across the entire surface of the star, lying on her bed, barely holding on, wires with clear fluid and blood flowing through them. In the image, her eyes flickered open slightly. The star shrunk to a tiny point of light then exploding in brilliant whiteness… …gasping for breath as her eyes opened wide, the bright light above her burning her eyes. She was all alone in her room, just a machine beeping frantically. She was back in her own universe, all alone with no one to share her journey with. She cried herself to sleep that night, her right hand holding her left and she dreamed of a star exploding, giving birth to a new her.
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Jul 3, 2017
Jul 3, 2017 at 6:51 PM UTC
Betelgeuse
In her final moments, prostrate on the bed, she imagined herself flying through the stars, an intergalactic explorer, discovering new planets and naming new creatures never before seen. She stops at a small blue marvel, flooded with water full of strange fish. She can’t be sure if this is the home she knew or the home she will come to know but she finds it beautiful and tranquil. In the distance, she sees a giant red star. During her flight there, she feels a sadness, as if her body is finally cutting away her tethers and she is now less attached to it, the freedom of exploring the universe at her leisure tainted by the fact she is all alone out here. She always believed a journey was not worth making alone, it just wasn’t the same without someone to share the wonder with. Out here, in the cold darkness of space, the loneliness speared her heart. The red star bulged at its equator ready to burst any moment. Dark spots swirled and danced together on its surface, growing and cooling and shrinking and disappearing, new ones soon to take their places. She flew around to the other side and saw herself, stretched across the entire surface of the star, lying on her bed, barely holding on, wires with clear fluid and blood flowing through them. In the image, her eyes flickered open slightly. The star shrunk to a tiny point of light then exploding in brilliant whiteness… …gasping for breath as her eyes opened wide, the bright light above her burning her eyes. She was all alone in her room, just a machine beeping frantically. She was back in her own universe, all alone with no one to share her journey with. She cried herself to sleep that night, her right hand holding her left and she dreamed of a star exploding, giving birth to a new her.
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40
Cheerio, cheerio Four AM they call to keep the awake awake And lull the slumbering deeper adream Clutching vapors of the musky night Cool, humid, starry eve Betelgeuse humming a tune Rigel entranced by the melody Alnitak, Alnilam, Mintaka belting along While the nightbirds While away the hours, embedded Deep in the canopy of springtime maples And chirp, and chirp, and chirp the expanse Singsonging to insomniacs ******* of blue, red, orange, all grey Parading the atomic clock onward And every night they chirrup Never before two o’clock- why at such a time As the deadzone of slumbering night? And there goes the first Cheerio, cheerio Good night, good morning nightbirds.
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Feb 27, 2015
Feb 27, 2015 at 4:33 PM UTC
Nightbirds
I have had enough of lovers Wishing to be the sun in my sky And creating diurnal dependencies That block half its dome at a time. To shine with such effulgence Should be an honor all my own. Who else is my constant companion? Who else sets my caverned heart 'glow? Instead, let all that is loved by me Be a dazzling array of constellations, Each brilliant Sirius and Betelgeuse Whirling, returning through my seasons. And if I should find such a Star again, Let them be not Sol, but instead, Polaris - Gleaming steadfast, in their own region, Never dipping 'neath horizon's terrace, Their simply existing A northward guide Keeping me truthfully Aligned.
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Feb 12, 2019
Feb 12, 2019 at 11:54 PM UTC
Almagest
I have this antifreeze in my veins I have icicles wrapping around my kidneys and you thought you were the only one with a disease I’m ******* the air out of your lungs and nothing has ever tasted so sweet on my tongue and I’m just trying to breathe you in and sometimes I’m scared I will eat your skin sometimes I think I'll cut my eyes on the glass in your smile they say Betelgeuse will explode someday and yet it is the brightest star in the sky
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Mar 6, 2014
Mar 6, 2014 at 8:31 PM UTC
Betelgeuse
Yeah you're stuck in the stars Somewhere in between betelgeuse and mars All the aliens look up, and they see images of themselves being pulled apart Branding themselves with vowels and constantly reminding themselves of the meaning they found in the stars It's a constellation nation Attributing stars to martians That's who you are Blue summer, I can see you from afar All the thoughts you thought in your space car In your fantastic flying saucer I can hear your voice inside static static Bouncing in between my ears like melted plastic plastic The thoughts I have are becoming masochistic Scraping my brain like physics of your friction You're a space cherub, you're my mystic Come on Virgo, dance with the stars I know you love Jesus, but just wait till you take a ride in my space car Listen to my alien tunes as we rip space time apart We can go anywhere, but all I know is were going far
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Jun 13, 2014
Jun 13, 2014 at 10:54 AM UTC
Supercluster
She is The size of a flower petal Attracts me As if she is the size of Jupiter Pulling me straight to her core Crushing my being She smiles Whilst playing with her hair Blinds me As if she is Betelgeuse But still my eyes glued on her Destroying my retinas She touches My heart with her little fingers Pulverises me As if I was squashed by Olympus Mons Yet I still reach out to her Completely wrecked
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Dec 23, 2016
Dec 23, 2016 at 9:22 AM UTC
about Jupiter
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.
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Oct 18, 2015
Oct 18, 2015 at 11:59 AM UTC
Beetle Juice
She snored softly as the rain came down, Intent to absorb the peace of every drop against the window. Red Mercury, blue Venus and white Betelgeuse joined us through the glass. She chuckled and returned to snoring, a wonderful dream perhaps.
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Jun 27, 2014
Jun 27, 2014 at 12:36 AM UTC
Blue Venus
Orion's shoulder is dimmer now, And I await a cosmic funeral; For a beauty that is born of death, And is every breath a miracle- Delights me. And Nature's diadem- That I swear my allegiance to, Thus makes me wonder How in myriad flavors, comes beauty; Like the sight of your love from afar, The warmth of falling tears, the twinkle, Or the death of a glorious star- That once boldly shone; But as a graveless corpse now rests In the void, alone.
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Jan 18, 2020
Jan 18, 2020 at 3:48 PM UTC
Betelgeuse
Do you recall that time? You were resting your head on the creased pillow while my palm traced the patterns of your moles. I'd run the tip of my fingers, almost without weight, on your bare skin, and draw the constellations of unremembered stars. Cassiopeia, I'd say. Or Betelgeuse, the hand of the giant. Antlia. Cepheus. Pictor. Pavo. Musca. Orion the Hunter. Do you remember those times? I guess not. Because you've always been the blind and I've always been the poet. These wonders escaped your notice -- you dull, specious creature with your dull, specious brain. Those moments were spectacular.
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May 8, 2016
May 8, 2016 at 9:26 AM UTC
Mug of coffee in our hands, coldness in our breaths
The ground's still cold at the end of May, And all I want is another day. Winter will come far too soon, As middays lapse into afternoons. Crickets tweet despite the dark, And I don't run though all dogs bark. You never know what's past the trees, As Betelgeuse glimmers too faint to see. Hacking out verses numbingly hones That strange sad effort to make here home.
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Jan 16, 2014
Jan 16, 2014 at 11:04 PM UTC
Untitled
A vow to bask in the wisdom of Betelgeuse , free of physical Earths bridle , discoveries chalice brimmed ad infinitum ....
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Sep 22, 2016
Sep 22, 2016 at 12:52 PM UTC
Novus License ...
The grotesque tends to grow like a fungus, From the depths of the living heart Crawlin' from inside us You can call to the angels but they lied Baby Judas Had a star too, Betelgeuse Jesus couldn't hide. She's a girl She can take you anywhere She's a girl She can make you anything Adam was bad boy, God's middle finger Had a black leather fetish And his first lover lingered He would sneak out and **** her in the night Little ignorant Cause she's same woman, whatcha think, whatcha figure? She's a girl She can take you anywhere She's a girl She can make you anything She's a girl, she's got jet black wings Psychedelic, she will manifest your mind. Grotesque, here comes the grotesque Grotesque, here comes the grotesque Growtesque, here comes the world again You're a mutant fungus, You were born grotesque.
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Jan 28, 2018
Jan 28, 2018 at 8:41 PM UTC
The Grotesque