"cassiopeia" poems
The moon shines a cool blue tonight
as we entwine our fingers, laying on the baseball field
beneath diamond heavens. We lie
in silence, in the moments when the Universe reveals
itself, and contemplate the distances between one celestial body to
another, the space between
us growing as I turn south
to find Orion while you seek Cassiopeia in the north.
Shooting stars cross the sky, and we wish separately on dead
stars and dead dreams, lights already grown red and extinguished
as we whisper in the dark, passing
between phases.
And in the end we're all left searching.
Mar 4, 2015
Mar 4, 2015 at 8:51 PM UTC
i. "Why did the number of parking tickets spike
when Persephone was carried off to the underworld?
Demeter wasn't working."
She liked greek mythology puns.
It was a good thing I was creative.
ii. Truth or Dare, I asked her what
was the best decision she's ever made.
she answered with, "In 7th grade I named my puppy Achilles,
so when I saw him I could say, 'Achilles, heel!'"
iii. It took me two weeks to realise that
when we held hands, I wasn't really
holding her hand, but a chainsaw,
ready to slash through anything that stood in our way like
Hercules chopping off the Hydra's head.
I was immortal.
iv. August eleventh; 9 PM
we watched for the meteor shower.
I connected the freckles splayed upon her knee,
told her they looked like the constellation of Cassiopeia.
"Be Sirius" she jested.
v. She had a bad habit
of smoking at the beach and I
Wondered if she knew that with
every single flick of ash into the water,
Poseidon was cursing her to the River Styx.
vi. Headaches visited her often, I joked that
maybe she was getting ready to birth
a Goddess from her cranium. She
did not find it clever.
vii. You could say we became like Aphrodite and
Hephaestus. I, longing for her. She,
lusting after another. A synonym for her
headaches would be me.
viii. Apparently if you hack off a Hydra head, two
would grow to replace it. Knowing this sooner
probably would have saved me from numerous
amounts of Kleenex and chocolate.
ix. She left me a note on the dresser,
"Fun fact: Medusa's favourite cheese was
Gorgon-zola. PS - you remind me
of Medusa, please remember to brush your hair."
She reminds of Medusa as well, I do not doubt that if we
meet again, her eyes would still turn me into
stone.
Dec 12, 2013
Dec 12, 2013 at 7:15 PM UTC
Oh my Cassiopeia
My queen; queen of Aethiopeia
Yours is an unrivaled beauty
No one can complain about your vanity
You love me
I love you more
Cepheus your king, how I wish I would be
To be with you forever and sit beside your throne
No, I'm not Cepheus; he probably is yet to come
I wish I'm your Cepheus, but I'm not even an Adam
But I can be your Cepheus if you let me, yes I can
Though I can't see your constellation from where I am
You can boss me around
Toss and turn me upside down
You can throw tantrums, those I won't mind
Forget being king, I'll be fine as your servant
You're a constellation, still I'll make a wish
Can I wish forever? No? Then let me love you at least
Let our love blossom, 'til my last breath vanish
Maybe I'll also become a constellation next to you, like what happened to Ray and Evangeline
Jul 1, 2014
Jul 1, 2014 at 2:53 AM UTC
You once told me that when we die,
we become another star in the night.
I never really cared about your zodiac and lunar signs,
I never paid attention to the solar action shooting by,
You'd wonder if it's magic plans or broken scrap that flew the skies,
You were psychedelic dresses, I was only wrapped in suit and tie,
It never blew my mind until I finally gave your truth a try,
I glimpsed the puzzle pieces in the time before the moon would rise,
A tapestry on galaxies, depicting myths, and human lies,
I guess you proved me wrong again, I was quick to scrutinize.
Now, I'm studying the subjects and sitting in observatories,
Thinking back to when I'd write them off before I heard the stories,
Earth is boring now you're gone, I hope you're up there yearning for me,
Every star's a soul, I'd see you but there's nothing worse than stormy
Nights and light pollution, it's a blinding kind of nuisance,
I'd be admiring your fusion but the sky has turned translucent,
But still I'm plotting charts of stars, I'm always making observations,
Waiting for the day I get to see your face in constellations.
I wanna chase you forever, whether heaven or hell, I'll go,
Can't let you float away, I'll take a world tour with my telescope,
The way I speed through hemispheres, this night will be the death of me,
But otherwise I'd only see you half the year, you're my Persephone,
I'll trek from Arctic harbors, give binoculars to polar bears,
Shiver in my igloo, hands together, say a hopeful prayer,
And no, I won't be lonely there, your soul will be a solar flare,
You'll whisper an aurora, northern lights to let me know you care.
I'll whistle Canis Major and Minor, and let Orion guide me,
I'm quite unlikely to quit, what kind of guy would I be?
To search the Seven Sisters for an eighth and get inside their psyche?
I'll question Cassiopeia, Cygnus, and Pisces nicely,
Ask if they've seen something fishy, and then I'll talk to Taurus,
An orbit tourist, I'm daunted without the gall to forfeit,
So if you're gone, then I'm glad that this was all you taught me,
I live each day for the night and just endure the morning.
Jan 31, 2019
Jan 31, 2019 at 3:50 PM UTC
I spend every waking moment
sleeping in your memory,
for here I feel less alone
and more like other wandering souls
trying to find their way home
Orion, Cassiopeia, Ursa Minor
if I met the constellations,
picked the stars from the sky,
perhaps they might match
up to the sparkle in your eyes
Watch fall phase to snow;
wonder why sadness stays
while seasons go
Leaf, flower, fruit seed oh
wilting rose, dead tree
silence takes its toll
See, I tip toe around your thoughts
while you drown me whole.
(A.H.Z)
Oct 21, 2013
Oct 21, 2013 at 3:51 AM UTC
Nightlight is waiting, deadly quiet,
Waiting for you to see,
Nightlight is heavy, rich, aromatic,
And pulling you closer to me.
Bright points scattered on velvet sky,
Each one a burning star,
We see the same lights, you and I,
Whether we’re near or we’re far.
We’ll share Cassiopeia,
As she follows her path round,
Never getting closer, but never farther,
Round and round, in silent sound.
Sep 16, 2011
Sep 16, 2011 at 4:41 PM UTC
You unscrew the jar; Orion’s climactic sigh spills—
A cello’s low A hums—our triad, C and E—the night skies.
Your thumb caresses pulse down my throat, andante, it drills
through myth—not his hunt, but the damp heat between our thighs.
We’ve plucked Lyra’s rusted chords, restrung her spine
to thrum with your breath, not some dead muse’s cords.
Stars crack like old records; we skip, we refine—
our bed, a cradle for light, shed our sheer white peignoirs.
You fear the jars dim? Let me mouth the black core
of Cassiopeia—choke her brittle groan,
then laugh as you arch—my crescendo, your score—
each note a plum’s burst where her language had flown.
Your teeth score my shoulder. The dark soars, unconfined—
We swallow the arias. Let the void choke on mine.
Apr 18, 2025
Apr 18, 2025 at 8:06 PM UTC
Celestial, heavenly queen
Beauty unrivalled
Oh vanity! ‘Tis quicksand of reason
And angry Gods speak
Purity and innocence
Surrendered
Shackled to crystalline quartz
And blamelessness the sacrificial quarry
Retribution is costly --
Though beauty shines brightly
With vanity
Comes lonely truth
Jun 28, 2011
Jun 28, 2011 at 8:10 PM UTC
I am jealous of Poseidon
His hands were able
to trace Cassiopeia on your back;
Closer than my hands have ever been.
Nov 27, 2016
Nov 27, 2016 at 12:12 PM UTC
The pale sands shadow your skin
The moon’s light bares you no justice
Its shine is nothing compared to your eyes
Nor does the ocean beside me, twinkle greater than they do
The goddess of the night waits atop her throne
Eyes that pierce the clouds and space itself
With the face that sent many ships to the deep of the ocean
The heart and mind to mend and destroy
You are my Helena, my Calliope, my Cassiopeia, and the River Queen Cleopatra
The waves splash my feet, my love
My boat is bound for lands dangerous
The white sand grips my feet, and I grip back
I wish not to leave you my goddess
Wait not for me, Lunar Matriarch
For I shall not return alive
Leave my body afloat dear Gods
Let my ship burn, my men die
I shall never see this beach or my Aspen Harlot afterwards.
Apr 28, 2013
Apr 28, 2013 at 6:52 AM UTC
i crave the universe; it's expanses, outer reaches.
i want to drink from the big dipper, have my fill,
be merry.
escape with me, from the wicked pull of gravity,
leave this ***** scarred earth.
i want to inhale these scattered constellations;
exhale galaxies, nebulas.
i want to leave these silly material things behind,
we can leave ourselves in this beautifully infinite silence,
let the stars tell the stories of the great orion and cassiopeia.
leave your own footprints on the moon, on mars,
wherever you wish, starchild,
there's too much to see when you live in an
u n f a t h o m a b l e e x p a n s e
staring into stardust,
staring into the roots of you,
of your creation,
of your nebula-blood.
your star-bones.
Jan 23, 2013
Jan 23, 2013 at 7:56 PM UTC
Every starry night
I look for your face.
Four imaginary lines
connecting five glimmering dots.
I relive the summers passed;
when I would look up, see you,
and know something was missing--
like Orion's Belt.
Come winter, when he returned,
he must have made you cold--
because I felt it too.
I moved away,
but ever in the sky you'd stay.
Every starry night
I look for your face.
Some call you Cassiopeia;
however, the beauty marks I know,
belong to one of another name.
Nov 7, 2013
Nov 7, 2013 at 2:33 AM UTC
I don't know you, but I feel you right from the get-go. You go about your routine that lassoed my heart into you, you who prance around the vastness of my dreamscape. I come to recognize your presence only in my sleep, at the very least that's what I know.
In that hazy, twisted world of subconscious shuffling, we find ourselves sitting cozily, face to face, at a table outside that rustic coffee shop. Honeyed words and laughters sprightly echo from that very spot where only a vase of freshly cut chrysanthemum sets two bodies and heat apart, longing.
Sometimes, we glorify sunsets at the shoreline. Sometimes, we sound our inane daredevil yawp at a cliff. Sometimes, we simply stargaze and draw across the skies Cassiopeia and Ursa Major.
We embrace the beauty of chaos we often find ourselves walking aimlessly along that busy thoroughfare before we head back home; normally we exchange random thoughts about school, my fascination with Rand's objectivist framework, your addiction to Cobain's craft and story, my weakness over falling in love too fast, your resilience and hope in times of defeat.
We are wired to each other in a special way, so special that it all has to be in lucid dreams. Feelings are intense. Kisses euthanize the butterflies. Midnight cuddles are soulful calisthenics. Holding each other's hand is infinite.
You present to me a self that is nurtured by its soul. I think I love you in my sleep. I feel happy with everything that goes with closing my eyes and letting dreams of the world I created creep into my consciousness. In such a realm I don't know you, but I feel you right from the get-go.
Do you see me in your sleep, too?
Dec 23, 2013
Dec 23, 2013 at 10:04 PM UTC
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.
Jun 18, 2014
Jun 18, 2014 at 11:08 AM UTC
Just between you and me,
I'd rather be a saint than a poet...
But to see the world like this:
A huge, shining consonant, lying on its side,
over the very ordinary clothesline,
well,
that's something, isn't it?
Aug 15, 2015
Aug 15, 2015 at 9:59 PM UTC
While you are asleep,
While you are only dreaming,
Ursa Major and Ursa Minor,
Forever they are scheming.
While you are awake,
you may think the world is one,
but Orion is still there,
in the sky he runs.
The stars may be replaced,
with puffy white laced clouds,
but Draco is till slinking,
far away the ground.
Even after all these years,
Cassiopeia is still vain,
still looking down on you,
through a window pain.
As the stars all swirl,
around the magnetic north,
Gemini still sways,
switching back and forth.
For even if we're sleeping,
even if we are awake,
the stars will always swim,
in a pitch black lake.
Dec 17, 2012
Dec 17, 2012 at 11:48 PM UTC
I slip shrouded through a summer’s mist
Away from sterile streetlights
That cast a distorting haze, hiding
Endless solar waves, that rest above
This earthly place where I pass my days
With stars tied tight to an infant night
I run and cup one lightning bug for my lantern light
Like being guided by my adolescence, to an open shore
Where the sky meets the vastness of my sleepless mind
This place is free of weight that holds me down;
No thunderclouds hover above me now
Constellations; like scars upon the sky, share stories
Through the passing tides of time. Cassiopeia undone by her pride,
Reminds me when to swallow mine. So often, I feel chained like the maiden;
Andromeda, imprisoned by a pious Poseidon.
On this lonely beach,
I trace my own tale, like a signature on the night. Not a hero but,
I was here. The simple story of a wandering man,
Always willing to lend an ear.
Jul 24, 2021
Jul 24, 2021 at 6:24 PM UTC
When I hover
Over your heavenly body,
I'm ********* the constellations
In braille.
Apr 8, 2016
Apr 8, 2016 at 10:42 AM UTC
Let's bury the lovely inconsistencies
Leave the intimate fallacies to mystery
Then my perception of your passion fits with me
Red brick to mortar
you laid your deceit in a building order
Despite the inherent wrecking ball tendencies you chose to utilize
Blind to my youthful eyes
Let's brush the displaced fervor for lust under makeshift throw rugs
Void of emotion until you know no love
As exhilarating as the love you left long ago as leaves of dogwood trees in a late Pennsylvanian november
Rigid structures that wait a season to return to the lively form they remember
Bare white bark and dead extremities
Bare as your stockpile of passion meant for me
The surplus became a short supply when I left your graces
Amidst the sea of faces
You encounter in the places
You replace me to fill the voids and spaces
My memory laced with traces
Of your gentle touch, a cool spring breeze to my sun soaked skin
Recalling the ominous climb before the downward spin
We always seem to find ourselves in
Perhaps the fact the rush of the climb washes my mind of the inevitable collapse
I all too often push the moment from thoughts of past
The sinking in my stomach peaking the point of no return
As I set my eyes to the horizon and watch us burn
In the setting sun of an Middle eastern summer
Your lightning fast decisions to leave never compared to the rolling thunder
That swept over my soul
When you tore the hole
In the hazel eyed sky of my perception
with your ill fated rejection
Casting projections
Of your likeness in the constellations
Trembling fingers wait patient
Making comparisons and relations
Between every aspect of you I savored
To Orion's belt, cassiopeia, ursa major
Every slight shift in its luminous glow
A subtle reminder to me of the love you will never know
Intergalactic representations paint the stage for supernovas
Expunging the lovely aroma
I grew accustom to
Coming to harsh realizations there's no reciprocal paid in full for the love I loved for you.
Aug 2, 2013
Aug 2, 2013 at 7:04 AM UTC
If I should fall a thousand steps into your arms,
will they not wait? For I
let not Cassiopeia move beyond her throne
to encroach my bed.
Let gravity
seek its master upon my feet
and warm itself in my slippers,
carry me through curtains
and clouds of deceit to reach a haloed moon
in an airless night. If I
should wait a thousand years for a single step into your arms,
will they not open? For I
let wide the gates and fiery the oil
to relinquish the kingdom and forge
against the current into the quiet distance.
Apr 14, 2016
Apr 14, 2016 at 12:38 PM UTC
sea’s quiet tonight, iris and vagabond gray
salt coarse in our hair we can see it in the
last pink light
count the bubbles in the wake
sprouting from thin air and
imaginary whale songs
they won’t find us in the stern let me
look at your hipbones—I won’t touch
not yet it’s too quiet tonight
there’s orion, and there’s cassiopeia
stars swimming white fish in our
rum-eyes
gulls’ heads tucked under wings
in the corners—goodnight goodnight
little gulls, dreaming you’re doves
even sirens sleep this moon
soft voices slumberous
smoky, hey—let me look at you again
under the velvet dark, sea in sterling drops
on our lashes, let’s take a break from steering
let waves and mermaids take the wheel
Mar 30, 2014
Mar 30, 2014 at 7:43 PM UTC
You are the soul of my self, life and breath,
endless beginning and duration
of my thoughts, emotions and will,
source of matter creating memory of the soul,
noon and thymos residing in my chest,
heavens in which the afterlife starts,
psyche appearing in my dreams,
wind and air of my inner cosmos,
lightest, spherical atoms composing my soul,
synthesis of all my sensations.
Your words of adoriation are ever living fire.
Flesh of my soul have been irrevocably affected
by your spiritual intelligence
and wisdom of your blood age generating thoughts.
Effluence of your loving spirit inflames circumpolar stars.
Motion in the sky is just reflection of God's destiny for us.
Love was never abstract for Cassiopeia the Queen
and all rising stars like our moon and sun.
Love, innefable realm,
mainstay of heart and mind,
sun in the center of human microcosm,
eyes, ears, tounge, hands and feet of God,
inherent nature of breath during the day and night,
one and only consciousness eluding death and time,
axiomatic language of infinite Universe
intimately connected to the philosophy of the core of all.
You are North Star on celestical sphere of my notions
showing me angelic love of woman
with power of all stars of northern heavens.
Jul 21, 2015
Jul 21, 2015 at 8:34 PM UTC
lying in the bed of an old pick up
parked in the loneliest part of Arizona
in the quietest pitch-black hour of night
i see a breathtakingly beautiful scene
that would rival VanGough's Starry Night
looking out across the desert horizon
i see a glowing pumpkin moon
sinking slowly into the shifting sand
like an orange midnight sunset and
the silhouetted limbs of a gnarled Joshua tree
against the midnight blue dome of
the clear dark sky illuminated by
millions of dazzling pinpoints
like diamonds shattered into pieces
and scattered through the night
though lightyears and galaxies away
I outstretch my hand trying to touch them
wanting to swirl them around with my fingers
and paint new pictures in the cosmos
I try to outline the constellations
but Orion and Cassiopeia
are lost among the sparkling stars
just as I am lost to the world for a brief moment
-sg
Jun 28, 2013
Jun 28, 2013 at 2:05 PM UTC
when all the birds have broken their wings
i will cradle your blood in my palms like holy water.
it’s warm,
warmer than god’s voice ever was.
time does not speak to me.
it only gnaws.
i lie beneath the floorboards, fingernails black with rot,
scraping remnants of lace and dried sweetness
from the soft decay of forgotten girlhood.
those torn seams, those salt-laced dreams—
what is purity but a ghost in the mildew?
O hearken!
the lilies are shrieking again.
their tongues curl like burnt scripture.
and i—
forever entranced by the acacia with the broken branches—
watch it weep sap like blood from an open wound,
as if to mourn something
only the trees remember.
i have swallowed the nightingales,
pressed their hollowed bodies
to the roof of my mouth
and vowed to keep them safe.
put your hands within me
and you will know the breaking of their wings—
each bone snapping in rhythm
with the pulse beneath my skin.
Our God sees everything
but he blinks often.
how could anyone have a mother?
your ribcage—once cathedral, now ruin—
shatters under the thousand-eyed weight
of dead saviors.
their halos clang as they fall.
your conscience flickers like static,
blotted out by the black geometry
of the insatiable void.
cassiopeia screams into her chains
but the stars do not loosen.
the universe unfurls
like a paper body
set alight.
O hearken!
kneel for the Great Reprieve!
when all the birds have broken their wings—
may we bleed beautifully.
oh mercy you, oh mercy me.
Sep 4, 2019
Sep 4, 2019 at 11:02 PM UTC