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Star Gazer Apr 2016
-
I'm sitting here listening to a song
Wondering how I was so wrong
I used to think the days were long
But with days comes longer nights
It's hard to determine wrong or right
The way my face lit up from fright
As I knew I'd have to spend it alone
Thinking I'll be fine, I have grown
But a house is never ever a home
When I have to spend it isolated
And I hear echoes of words
Words that may remain unstated
As I get into a slight altercation
With my own mind, debated
Whether I should feel happy
Whether I should feel crabby
Whether this world was a big cage
Or that Earth was rather a grand stage
These purple walls feel black and white
And although the stars lit up the night
I'm left with the thought of how
Every star will eventually burn
Stabbing thoughts at every turn
As I start to think about all the encounters
All the people I have met
All the people I have yet to meet
And whether we were parallel lines
That were never meant to meet
Or we were somewhere in an
Almost asymptotic situation.

I had hoped my lives was not TanX
As I think on how my mind's been vex
Distorted , contorted to a fault.

I'm randomly thinking, over thinking
Just wondering whether I should be fine
Or draw upon another line
That separated the nights and the days
Where I was no longer dazed
By the fact that I have no real words to speak
And if I did, I would not know where to seek
As I keep my mindset on a ranting style
Letting it run wild
With thoughts of whether I should show concern
Over people of my past
As though the relapse of a friendship is evident
But it's not like lives became relevant
We kept thoughts to ourselves
Racking brains to sizes of elephants.
I ask myself,
Over and over again
No, I beg myself
Please pick up the pen
Just write your thoughts
Show the world your inner den
And then
I'm caught between writing useless words
That go unread or unheard
Fleeting like the migration of a bird
Just in and out of no real value
But I touched on many personal topics
And in a rather ectopic
Way this has become my personal diary.

I want to tell a story
It is about a star in the night sky
Well you see, this star
She was a bright one
She kept her light on
Just to guide the world home
And in her own life
She made those who felt alone
Felt appreciated, felt loved
She stole many hearts
Broke many hearts
And indeed broken as is
She knew how to fixed hearts
Sewed them up with threads
From the very veins that ran
Through her own heart.
Well you see one big problem
This bright lustrous star
Met a floating comet
This comet, you see
He wasn't a nice one
He wanted lights, gone
And kept his heart imprisoned
Inside a ribcage that
Resembled the cages
Within a hidden cave.
She, the bright light of a star
Was drawn to him,
Couldn't get near him,
Yet couldn't get far from him,
And so she knew of a solution
She let her lights dim,
Just so she could see him,
Just so she could hold him,
And with her fading lights
She left one night
Set up on a different life
When she knew nothing
Nothing could ever be right.
He, the comet felt stupid
Because although they floated
High above in space,
There was this asteroid
Named cupid
who tied their hearts together
...
And so he cried on and on
He cried till the tears were gone.

Light years pass by
He, the stupid comet
Met another star
That shined brighter than he
Have ever seen in a long time
Except he could only admire
He could only admire her from
A distance
In attempt at persistence
He realised her shine was warm
Her shine was comforting
Her shined stopped the hurting
Her shine lit through the curtains
Although she was different
Different to the old star
Yet the comet tried and tried
Wondering whether the part
Of him, that usually crashes
The Earth have died
Or whether he was just tired.
This comet had many uncertainties
But one thing was certain
He had not deserved her warmth
So he believed the Big Bang
Had made the comet and the star
Light years apart for a reason
And although the comet
Admired the beauty of the star
The kindness shown by the star
The care shown by the star
The warmth of the star
He knew maybe his life
As a comet was to only
Get along with a comet
And so with a conflicted mind
The comet found himself
A solution, the one thing
He had ever done right,
That was to bring the night
So that the star would
Always be around.
In the end of the story
Whatever the comet chose
Whatever the comet did
He knew within his mind
That no matter what
He would have made
A new marvellous friend.

The comet's light
  ... died...
within this last
  . ..line...
I will bring fire to thee.

Euripides.—’Androm’.

‘Eiros’.

Why do you call me Eiros?

‘Charmion’.

So henceforward will you always be called. You must forget,
too, my earthly name, and speak to me as Charmion.

‘Eiros’.

This is indeed no dream!

‘Charmion’.

Dreams are with us no more;—but of these mysteries
anon. I rejoice to see you looking life-like and rational.
The film of the shadow has already passed from off your
eyes. Be of heart, and fear nothing. Your allotted days of
stupor have expired, and to-morrow I will myself induct you
into the full joys and wonders of your novel existence.

‘Eiros’.

True—I feel no stupor—none at all. The wild
sickness and the terrible darkness have left me, and I hear
no longer that mad, rushing, horrible sound, like the “voice
of many waters.” Yet my senses are bewildered, Charmion,
with the keenness of their perception of the new.

‘Charmion’.

A few days will remove all this;—but I fully
understand you, and feel for you. It is now ten earthly
years since I underwent what you undergo—yet the
remembrance of it hangs by me still. You have now suffered
all of pain, however, which you will suffer in Aidenn.

‘Eiros’.

In Aidenn?

‘Charmion’.

In Aidenn.

‘Eiros’.

O God!—pity me, Charmion!—I am overburthened
with the majesty of all things—of the unknown now
known—of the speculative Future merged in the august
and certain Present.

‘Charmion’.

Grapple not now with such thoughts. To-morrow we will speak
of this. Your mind wavers, and its agitation will find
relief in the exercise of simple memories. Look not around,
nor forward—but back. I am burning with anxiety to
hear the details of that stupendous event which threw you
among us. Tell me of it. Let us converse of familiar things,
in the old familiar language of the world which has so
fearfully perished.

‘Eiros’.

Most fearfully, fearfully!—this is indeed no dream.

‘Charmion’.

Dreams are no more. Was I much mourned, my Eiros?

‘Eiros’.

Mourned, Charmion?—oh, deeply. To that last hour of
all there hung a cloud of intense gloom and devout sorrow
over your household.

‘Charmion’.

And that last hour—speak of it. Remember that, beyond
the naked fact of the catastrophe itself, I know nothing.
When, coming out from among mankind, I passed into Night
through the Grave—at that period, if I remember
aright, the calamity which overwhelmed you was utterly
unanticipated. But, indeed, I knew little of the speculative
philosophy of the day.

‘Eiros’.

The individual calamity was, as you say, entirely
unanticipated; but analogous misfortunes had been long a
subject of discussion with astronomers. I need scarce tell
you, my friend, that, even when you left us, men had agreed
to understand those passages in the most holy writings which
speak of the final destruction of all things by fire as
having reference to the orb of the earth alone, But in
regard to the immediate agency of the ruin, speculation had
been at fault from that epoch in astronomical knowledge in
which the comets were divested of the terrors of flame. The
very moderate density of these bodies had been well
established. They had been observed to pass among the
satellites of Jupiter without bringing about any sensible
alteration either in the masses or in the orbits of these
secondary planets. We had long regarded the wanderers as
vapory creations of inconceivable tenuity, and as altogether
incapable of doing injury to our substantial globe, even in
the event of contact. But contact was not in any degree
dreaded; for the elements of all the comets were accurately
known. That among them we should look for the agency
of the threatened fiery destruction had been for many years
considered an inadmissible idea. But wonders and wild
fancies had been of late days strangely rife among mankind;
and, although it was only with a few of the ignorant that
actual apprehension prevailed, upon the announcement by
astronomers of a new comet, yet this announcement was
generally received with I know not what of agitation and
mistrust.

The elements of the strange orb were immediately calculated,
and it was at once conceded by all observers that its path,
at perihelion would bring it into very close proximity with
the earth. There were two or three astronomers of secondary
note who resolutely maintained that a contact was
inevitable. I cannot very well express to you the effect of
this intelligence upon the people. For a few short days they
would not believe an assertion which their intellect, so
long employed among worldly considerations, could not in any
manner grasp. But the truth of a vitally important fact soon
makes its way into the understanding of even the most
stolid. Finally, all men saw that astronomical knowledge
lies not, and they awaited the comet. Its approach was not
at first seemingly rapid, nor was its appearance of very
unusual character. It was of a dull red, and had little
perceptible train. For seven or eight days we saw no
material increase in its apparent diameter, and but a
partial alteration in its color. Meantime, the ordinary
affairs of men were discarded, and all interest absorbed in
a growing discussion instituted by the philosophic in
respect to the cometary nature. Even the grossly ignorant
aroused their sluggish capacities to such considerations.
The learned now gave their intellect—their
soul—to no such points as the allaying of fear, or to
the sustenance of loved theory. They sought—they
panted for right views. They groaned for perfected
knowledge. Truth arose in the purity of her strength
and exceeding majesty, and the wise bowed down and adored.

That material injury to our globe or to its inhabitants
would result from the apprehended contact was an opinion
which hourly lost ground among the wise; and the wise were
now freely permitted to rule the reason and the fancy of the
crowd. It was demonstrated that the density of the comet’s
nucleus was far less than that of our rarest gas; and
the harmless passage of a similar visitor among the
satellites of Jupiter was a point strongly insisted upon,
and which served greatly to allay terror. Theologists, with
an earnestness fear-enkindled, dwelt upon the biblical
prophecies, and expounded them to the people with a
directness and simplicity of which no previous instance had
been known. That the final destruction of the earth must be
brought about by the agency of fire, was urged with a spirit
that enforced everywhere conviction; and that the comets
were of no fiery nature (as all men now knew) was a truth
which relieved all, in a great measure, from the
apprehension of the great calamity foretold. It is
noticeable that the popular prejudices and ****** errors in
regard to pestilences and wars—errors which were wont
to prevail upon every appearance of a comet—were now
altogether unknown, as if by some sudden convulsive exertion
reason had at once hurled superstition from her throne. The
feeblest intellect had derived vigor from excessive
interest.

What minor evils might arise from the contact were points of
elaborate question. The learned spoke of slight geological
disturbances, of probable alterations in climate, and
consequently in vegetation; of possible magnetic and
electric influences. Many held that no visible or
perceptible effect would in any manner be produced. While
such discussions were going on, their subject gradually
approached, growing larger in apparent diameter, and of a
more brilliant lustre. Mankind grew paler as it came. All
human operations were suspended.

There was an epoch in the course of the general sentiment
when the comet had attained, at length, a size surpassing
that of any previously recorded visitation. The people now,
dismissing any lingering hope that the astronomers were
wrong, experienced all the certainty of evil. The chimerical
aspect of their terror was gone. The hearts of the stoutest
of our race beat violently within their bosoms. A very few
days suffered, however, to merge even such feelings in
sentiments more unendurable. We could no longer apply to the
strange orb any accustomed thoughts. Its
historical attributes had disappeared. It oppressed us
with a hideous novelty of emotion. We saw it not as
an astronomical phenomenon in the heavens, but as an incubus
upon our hearts and a shadow upon our brains. It had taken,
with unconceivable rapidity, the character of a gigantic
mantle of rare flame, extending from horizon to horizon.

Yet a day, and men breathed with greater freedom. It was
clear that we were already within the influence of the
comet; yet we lived. We even felt an unusual elasticity of
frame and vivacity of mind. The exceeding tenuity of the
object of our dread was apparent; for all heavenly objects
were plainly visible through it. Meantime, our vegetation
had perceptibly altered; and we gained faith, from this
predicted circumstance, in the foresight of the wise. A wild
luxuriance of foliage, utterly unknown before, burst out
upon every vegetable thing.

Yet another day—and the evil was not altogether upon
us. It was now evident that its nucleus would first reach
us. A wild change had come over all men; and the first sense
of pain was the wild signal for general lamentation
and horror. The first sense of pain lay in a rigorous
construction of the breast and lungs, and an insufferable
dryness of the skin. It could not be denied that our
atmosphere was radically affected; the conformation of this
atmosphere and the possible modifications to which it might
be subjected, were now the topics of discussion. The result
of investigation sent an electric thrill of the intensest
terror through the universal heart of man.

It had been long known that the air which encircled us was a
compound of oxygen and nitrogen gases, in the proportion of
twenty-one measures of oxygen and seventy-nine of nitrogen
in every one hundred of the atmosphere. Oxygen, which was
the principle of combustion, and the vehicle of heat, was
absolutely necessary to the support of animal life, and was
the most powerful and energetic agent in nature. Nitrogen,
on the contrary, was incapable of supporting either animal
life or flame. An unnatural excess of oxygen would result,
it had been ascertained, in just such an elevation of the
animal spirits as we had latterly experienced. It was the
pursuit, the extension of the idea, which had engendered
awe. What would be the result of a total extraction of
the nitrogen? A combustion irresistible, all-devouring,
omni-prevalent, immediate;—the entire fulfilment, in
all their minute and terrible details, of the fiery and
horror-inspiring denunciations of the prophecies of the Holy
Book.

Why need I paint, Charmion, the now disenchained frenzy of
mankind? That tenuity in the comet which had previously
inspired us with hope, was now the source of the bitterness
of despair. In its impalpable gaseous character we clearly
perceived the consummation of Fate. Meantime a day again
passed—bearing away with it the last shadow of Hope.
We gasped in the rapid modification of the air. The red
blood bounded tumultuously through its strict channels. A
furious delirium possessed all men; and with arms rigidly
outstretched towards the threatening heavens, they trembled
and shrieked aloud. But the nucleus of the destroyer was now
upon us;—even here in Aidenn I shudder while I speak.
Let me be brief—brief as the ruin that overwhelmed.
For a moment there was a wild lurid light alone, visiting
and penetrating all things. Then—let us bow down,
Charmion, before the excessive majesty of the great
God!—then, there came a shouting and pervading sound,
as if from the mouth itself of HIM; while the whole
incumbent mass of ether in which we existed, burst at once
into a species of intense flame, for whose surpassing
brilliancy and all-fervid heat even the angels in the high
Heaven of pure knowledge have no name. Thus ended all.
M P Hill Aug 2012
.................................................................­....
God closed his eyes
..........................................................­..........

To a sickly thin girl
a lost
little thing turning pale

God closed his eyes
to take a rest

So she made her way
to her favorite
hiding place

God closed his eyes
to take a rest
he was passed out

She could sit here
for only a couple
hours before she
would be seen

God closed his eyes
to take a rest
he was passed out
and not going to wake up

The view was
unbelievable
amazing
captivating
she always said,

"Wow, how grateful I am"

God closed his eyes
to take a rest
he was past out
and not going to wake up

Not tonight
not this clear night
not while she was hiding here

...........................................................­..........
Halley sees a comet
.........................................................­...........

It flew across the backdrop
of stars and darkness
something like that of
a comet.

And it started raining.

She could relate.

God closed his eyes
to take a rest
he was passed out
and not going to wake up
not tonight
he was much to drunk

To come out here
and nag with
that voice
and drag her back in....

.........................................................­............
"No oh dear GOD no!"
................................................................­....

God opened his eyes

to take his child

he was full of rage

he was much to drunk

he demanded

she come now

God, he closed his gates
and opened hers
to the world

..........................................................­............
His mouth was hate he slammed it into mine
..........................................................­...........

streaks
like the comet she saw
burned and spotted in her dreams

she would weep
it would shower as she would sleep

Halley closed her eyes*


.........................................................­............
Where is justice?
John F McCullagh Dec 2011
A Comet passed too near the sun,
and was filmed  disintegrating..
Perhaps its G.P.S. was off
or just recalculating.
The solar skimming comet
surely melted in the heat.
Old King Sol, our yellow dwarf
Enjoyed his slurpee treat.
Astronomers were quite tight lipped
When asked to speak upon it
All I got from one stargazer
Was a terse” No Comet!”
One of a group of comets known as "Sun grazers" because their orbits pass through the Sun's atmosphere.
Psychostasis Jun 2020
I was once a Comet
Racing through space in a blind fury
Towards some unknown goal that was so much bigger than I
That I stay trapped in an orbit so super massive
Everywhere I go and everything I see becomes the first time I've seen it

I was once a Comet.
My light burned so brightly everyone within hundreds of thousands of miles could see
And they watched as I accelerated with joy and pride in their hearts
Making wishes and hoping the universe grants it

I was once a Comet
And because I was unable to see myself
I believed them when they said I was on fire
That I was some ever burning torch
Destined to give my light for millennia.

I was once a Comet
And as I traveled, my mass decreased
Bits of stone and ice were lost as my stardust began to strike stagnant meteors and debris
I began to slow
My light became dim

I no longer receive the wishes of the people.
Their cries of pride and joy are a ghost to me now
A shadow of a phantom

I no longer feel the warmth from my travels
And as my light fades
And I blend into the eternal, ever stretching black sheet that is our universe
I will always remember
I was once a Comet.
Salty rancher spackle is to Earthy diva smackers as Swinging hotel number is to?
Rippling cling bread is to Three lizard chariots as Indigo lime tangent is to?
Nighttime reunion planet is to Nettle lane scuffle as Soaking spider *** is to?
Fancy trance logs are to Sticky fudge lather as Vivacious gator college is to?
Cheerful blossom face is to Secret tractor rocket as Canned gremlin emblems are to?
Jealous pitchfork generals are to Heartbreaking patchwork veranda as Folding robot noise is to?
Pretty rhino rash is to Lost locket vengeance as Back pocket weather is to?
Frosted candy sidewalk is to Sneaky kook code as Shiny waffle smoke is to?
Sapphire cloud romance is to Magnetic comet lava as Blue triangle envy is to?
Vanishing honey melody is to Thermal elf pajamas as Whistling iceboat shampoo is to?
Peach mint politics is to Frozen doll pennies as Rusty anchor catapult is to?
Swollen pony fever Throbbing sword kazoo as Silent turbine science is to?
Obese germ thunder is to Stacked lemon towers as Corrupt moon jockey is to?
Demented insect whistle is to Glass trophy cleanup as Purple geode bubble is to?
Nighttime razor slime is to Lacquered dragon maps as Tint paper mittens are to?
**** camel drops are to Velvet ****** shoes as Slippery red muffins are to?
Flying hot drool is to Pale chocolate telescope as Tin trumpet ballet is to?
Expensive puppy speed is to Flowered duck mirror as Cosmic needle factory is to?
Fractured laser doodles are to Cracked butter gravel as Rubber holster straps are to?
Majestic panther fortress is to Jeweled cork target as Iron swan taxi is to?
Poisonous pepper bouillon is to ****** goat soap as Chrome feather pirates are to?
Digital gorilla scriptures are to Timid hunter stench as Frozen domino video is to?
Eccentric troll opera is to Transparent wax village as Spoiled coral agony is to?
Bizarre green metal is to Pillow eating hamster as Leather cavern ***** are to?
Eternal hurricane evidence is to Powdered rainbow perfume as Smoking yellow prune is to?
Liquid wish cleanser is to Exploding meadow ladders as Brittle rose hammer is to?
Caged foam filter is to Cherry balloon string as Ivory cactus spider is to?
Carbon puppet watch is to Sad kings compass as Elastic lace whiskers are to?
Nitrogen trolley dust is to Lazy elephant toffee as Orange toad choir is to?
Dark pole zodiac is to Blue finger blanket as Illegal bug nozzle is to?
Stinky towel cookies are to White jade caskets as Sticky snail tea is to?
Converting stellated caramels is to Mythic aerosol socks as Rubber raspberry jokes are to?
Flying clock carousel is to Whisky nut worms as Plastic fish platforms are to?
Queasy Vaseline queens are to Moody pigeon pills as Aqua mice fur is to?
Spotted bowl shadow is to Idiotic radiance lotion as Bungalow toad hearse is to?
Gushing chimney fungus is to Funky lamb acrobat as Utopian **** sprinkler is to?
Twinkling bungalow tablet is to Botanical duck rope as Bug hat ram is to?
Broken clock fossil is to Black ginger confetti as Parisian cobra meatloaf is to?
Silly Xerox ribbon is to Obedient raccoon carny as Traditional cat linguini is to?
Last astral advisor is to Elastic badger riddles as Broken circle rifles are to?
Bagged squire channel is to Temporary mosaic cake as Ancient bacon thread is to?
Wireless math army is to Moronic neon money as Pearl razor radar is to?
Rubber buzzard blizzard is to Troubled bubble wizard as Crushed hash ******* is to?
Purple birdy cure is to Tangled frost blossoms as Silken bridal saddle is to?
Unisex owl accordion is to Sugar bottomed boat as Optical nougat treasure is to?
Flavored saline rain is to Black arrow clan as Transistorized clam guitar is to?
Sharpened twig scar is to Mutant beet sonar as Baked troll mask is to?
Boxed noodle secrets are to Traditional guru buttons as Glossy marshmallow strategy is to?
Vibrating melted jelly is to Silver furniture dream as Spewing collated seats is to?
Burnt mountain pickles are to Baby preacher shoes as Sympathetic pilot pain is to?
Narrow portal treaty is to Monkey warehouse vacancy as Painted tornado trap is to?
Porch penny sulfur is to Glowing pony fat as Patched mattress bait is to?
Frigid waitress fallacy is to Graphic shrimp salute as Misted sneezing window is to?
Moist apple moss is to Daddy’s zoom seed as Downtown Pope cart is to?
Tired felon trickle is to Holographic squirrel candle as Wild ray hay is to?
Deadly zero chalk is to Folding wilderness chart as Curved ******* vacuum is to?
Hollow porcelain pellets are to Strawberry rain stencils as Microwave taxi nomads are to?
Wasted machete balcony is to Crumpled creature confessions as Fridge fuzzed fruit is to?
Sloppy demon damage is to Squeaky puppet chuckle as Mental arcade combat is to?
Monster trout stories are to Lewd pirate cocktail as Locked mammal grommet is to?
Rotting rope network is to Tragic toy goat as Cotton submarine shoes are to?
Complex pepper dance is to ****** cloud cushion as Marching taxi holiday is to?
Mental petal collectors are to Spooned barn putty as Dork factory fiction is to?
Hot spotted tops are to Timed stepping pests as Yogurt notching tartar is to?
Crazy dog comics are to Ambitious cartoon sphinx as Pavlov’s zinc ballet is to?
Soiled spinster wedding is to Padded razor wound as Floating fish map is to?
Slippery leopard pants are to Perfumed nut button as Dart wizard party is to?
Needy alien elephants are to Barking garden gnats as Quasar focused paper is to?
Slanted heart **** is to Bronzed cliff sandals are to Cunning jockey jokes are to?
***** thumbprint massage is to Holistic princess memory as Sliding dental sword is to?
Drifting wood whistle is to Fluorescent carpet powder as Foam dragon whistle is to?
Chopped web shadow is to Immortal vermin soup as Collapsing porch conspiracy is to?
Stolen thunder chant is to Haunted comet heart as Swollen throat portrait is to?
Fragrant frost parfait is to Grumpy caveman *** as Random stingray solo is to?
Squeaky polar turbine is to Silent lava fever as Oversized lunar fulcrum is to?
Synthetic dew droppers are to Pocket poster paste as Hypnotic screen dog is to?
Symbolic whirlpool nausea is to Dreaming tree phantom as Log badge bracket is to?
Camp hippo map is to Horseradish seizure insurance as Distant insect mirror is to?
German lady sherbet is to Stuntman laundry wax as Hungry butterfly ghost is to?
Fly smudged foil is to Amped maze coil as Shifting optic terror is to?
Automatic sheep floss is to Panoramic tanker anchor as Throbbing bone pillow is to?
Mutant clown village is to Nightmare translation treasure as Spotted spectral chakra is to?
Blind roach tweat is to Hermit worm tiara as Divine logo ritual is to?
Glueless gun stamp is to Malicious spam pump as Floral toffee pods are to?
Dudgeon mist removal is to Menacing bolt smacker as Boating duke shadow is to?
Costly metal plungers are to Creaky buzzing gushers as Glowing star cushions are to?
Raked barge sludge is to Crusted cream glitter as Zircon gutter babble is to?
Fake gold scholar is to Amish ******* mogul as Faithful ***** choir is to?
Sacred limo prayers are to Fried mice café as Splintered ****** thimble is to?
Dealing rabbit decals is to Pelican bongo festival as Patched equator rot is to?
Freedom gourd gasoline is to Cobblers studying acorns as Desecrated dice crater is to?
Tattered tapestry rod is to Busted particle scanner as Bogus piffle catalogue is to?
Trifle truffle raffle is to Last lamb laminate as Segmented cake goggles are to?
Domestic tackle tactic is to Ticking tic talk as Cordial corps coordinates is to?
Tucked duck caftan is to Sunken ramp ruckus as Wretched ranch rhetoric is to?
Clearly incomprehensible directions are to Useful archaic nonsense as Antiquated skeletal outline is to?
Bewildered beasts feasting are to Lazy busybodies resting as Vaccinating brave volunteers are to?
Lucky wagon dragons are to Famous gargoyle gargle as Formal postman funding is to?
Furrowed shroud chowder is to Borrowed tartan pajamas as Martini mixed algebra is to?
Cowgirl balloon helium is to Chewy glucose habitat as Stationary monument movement is to?
Diamond powered powder is to Diagonal diameter diagram as Purposely condensed expansion is to?
Organic iodine capsule is to Gleaming beach probe as Dominant dome static is to?
Shaving wrinkled targets is to Petting sensible monsters as Selling invisible whiskey is to?
Frozen piano architecture is to Note dotted clouds as Screaming Korean worms are to?
Sonic plant website is to Telepathic climbing clam as Bored protein exercise is to?
Gourmet mollusk cone is to Numb poodle caravan as Asian raven radar is to?
Alias Feb 2016
I am just like a comet
Flying, soaring, crashing down
Not caring about my direction
The burning fire in the back is my crown
I'm a distraction
Some say disaster
I say faster
I say free
I say
I am a comet
And if you're lucky you'll be one of the stars in my path
Before I crash, burn, die.
Emma Chatonoir Nov 2014
He came crashing to Earth like a comet
Except no one saw him coming
I overheard people say they found him attractive
With his pastel hair

His headphones always radiated pop punk
As he said he was *******
But simultaneously straight edge too
Also known as normal

I thought he was a time traveler from 2003
Bringing the scene ways back
He insisted it wasn't a phase
But once the dye washes out, it'll change

He started talking to me every day
Quoting emotional things from the Internet
And I eventually turned and asked
Why he kept doing that

"Your presence still lingers here
And it won't leave me alone"
Of course he used an Evanescence quote
He had to be one of them

"How do you act so soft and emotional
Yet claim to follow the punk lifestyle?"
To say someone is *******
Means they do not act soft

He does it to attract girls
And nothing else
He claims his soft side makes him
More approachable

A comet came crashing down on Earth
Wearing headphones with pastel hair
Yet another poser in the school
When will they stop?
Seriously, 2003 was eleven years ago, the phase can end now.
Felix Garcia Apr 2015
Have you ever loved someone,
who was just oblivious of your existence?
Like a comet passing the eye of a sun,
neither aware nor touched by its gaze.

She was just there,
and I was just here.
She was never meant for me,
else that comet collides into this sun.
Kendal Cooper Sep 2015
but darling, tis not this weight you should be concerned with
bearing weight means strength
strength translates into courage

courage
each cell within your painted body  
recreating pictures within moments
so you can adapt to the world's mysterious colors

colors
the gradient of your eyes
a scale model of the cosmos surrounding us
you and I

I
a collision of rocks in space
given the grand most title of a comet

comet
I may be this "brilliant comet"
but a comet cannot exist alone in this void of infinity
maybe I am this comet
but it is undoubtable that I need gravity

gravity
but darling, tis not the weight you should be concerned with
it is the strength of your gravity that yearns for your focus

so maybe I am your brilliant comet
but you are pulling me
my miraculous gravity
Adrian Mar 2018
You're a real comet boy
aren't you
everyone wants to call you a
shooting star
but you know you're just a
falling rock​
glittery and pretty boy
all bright and cheery
we all want to know if you light up
the dark
eyelashes cluttered
with star dust
​do you wear a crown
of broken moonstones?
​cracked and gorgeous
your beauty is your pain
oh,
so sad yet so pretty
comet boy
we all want to heal you
won't you let us heal you?
'Perspective betrays with its dichotomy:
train tracks always meet, not here, but only
    in the impossible mind's eye;
horizons beat a retreat as we embark
on sophist seas to overtake that mark
    where wave pretends to drench real sky.'

'Well then, if we agree, it is not odd
that one man's devil is another's god
    or that the solar spectrum is
a multitude of shaded grays; suspense
on the quicksands of ambivalence
    is our life's whole nemesis.

So we could rave on, darling, you and I,
until the stars tick out a lullaby
    about each cosmic pro and con;
nothing changes, for all the blazing of
our drastic jargon, but clock hands that move
    implacably from twelve to one.

We raise our arguments like sitting ducks
to knock them down with logic or with luck
    and contradict ourselves for fun;
the waitress holds our coats and we put on
the raw wind like a scarf; love is a faun
    who insists his playmates run.

Now you, my intellectual leprechaun,
would have me swallow the entire sun
    like an enormous oyster, down
the ocean in one gulp: you say a mark
of comet hara-kiri through the dark
    should inflame the sleeping town.

So kiss: the drunks upon the curb and dames
in dubious doorways forget their monday names,
    caper with candles in their heads;
the leaves applaud, and santa claus flies in
scattering candy from a zeppelin,
    playing his prodigal charades.

The moon leans down to took; the tilting fish
in the rare river wink and laugh; we lavish
    blessings right and left and cry
hello, and then hello again in deaf
churchyard ears until the starlit stiff
    graves all carol in reply.

Now kiss again: till our strict father leans
to call for curtain on our thousand scenes;
    brazen actors mock at him,
multiply pink harlequins and sing
in gay ventriloquy from wing to wing
    while footlights flare and houselights dim.

Tell now, we taunq where black or white begins
and separate the flutes from violins:
    the algebra of absolutes
explodes in a kaleidoscope of shapes
that jar, while each polemic jackanapes
    joins his enemies' recruits.

The paradox is that 'the play's the thing':
though prima donna pouts and critic stings,
    there burns throughout the line of words,
the cultivated act, a fierce brief fusion
which dreamers call real, and realists, illusion:
    an insight like the flight of birds:

Arrows that lacerate the sky, while knowing
the secret of their ecstasy's in going;
    some day, moving, one will drop,
and, dropping, die, to trace a wound that heals
only to reopen as flesh congeals:
    cycling phoenix never stops.

So we shall walk barefoot on walnut shells
of withered worlds, and stamp out puny hells
    and heavens till the spirits squeak
surrender: to build our bed as high as jack's
bold beanstalk; lie and love till sharp scythe hacks
    away our rationed days and weeks.

Then jet the blue tent topple, stars rain down,
and god or void appall us till we drown
    in our own tears: today we start
to pay the piper with each breath, yet love
knows not of death nor calculus above
    the simple sum of heart plus heart.
I remember it like yesterday
50 years back, more or less
She was singing with an old guitar
She wore a faded yellow dress

She sang songs about rebellion
of love and hate and less
She was singing with an old guitar
She wore a faded yellow dress

She lit up the world
In 1971
She burned bright as a comet
She was there, and then...was done

The bar was almost empty
Most nights it was I guess
She was singing with an old guitar
She wore a faded yellow dress

I remember when she saw me
We connected, I confess
She was singing with an old guitar
She wore a faded yellow dress

She lit up the world
In 1971
She burned bright as a comet
She was there, and then...was done

Word spread out about her
She was primed to have success
She was singing with an old guitar
She wore a faded yellow dress

An agent came and watched her
A low life lizard known as Jess
She was singing with an old guitar
She wore a faded yellow dress

She lit up the world
In 1971
She burned bright as a comet
She was there, and then...was done

Promises were made to her
She heard his pitch, and she said yes
She was singing with an old guitar
She wore a faded yellow dress

I saw her climb the charts that year
She was a shell, a real hot mess
She no longer had an old guitar
She now wore hot pants, not a dress

She lit up the world
In 1971
She burned bright as a comet
She was there, and then...was done

You could see she was a puppet
A golden goose for lizard Wes
She no longer had an old guitar
She now wore hot pants, not a dress

I heard she died, an overdose
I wasn't shocked, I must confess
They buried her in Hollywood
She wore a faded yellow dress

She lit up the world
In 1971
I remember her old guitar
And her faded yellow dress
Jack Sep 2014
Ancient wounds ~ Comet wishes


Bleeding from these ancient wounds
Falling to the earth below
Mud red, blood red, softening the ground
My footprints ache in format patterns

So long the wounds, of age defined,
Dripping masses in the mist
Marked for life, while a beating heart
pumps eternal fluid fears

Watching as the puddles grow,
round at first and then obscure
Fading faster than the sun
on its westward trek of daylight shadows

Weak…I find my eyes they stare
off into the crowning moon
Beams of effervescent glow
shroud me in unknown pleasures

Rising above the crusted mounds
Light as any whispered breeze
Words now call in sweet caress
Melodies of past preferred ring

Lyrics sung to me and me alone
A language that my soul does speak
Piano keys in blended black and white
string together lasting impressions

Symphonies of a healing concerto
press upon my quivered skin
Scars now dance at the revival
and still my feet don’t find the floor

My hand is touched, fingers moved
Warmth embraces this awkward grip
as peace flows, smooth, soft, subtle
through my veins

The bleeding has ceased
Disappeared among comet wishes
and my heart, once silent, now sings
in harmony with her voice…and I dream
Dylan Whisman Sep 2015
the weight of the world has arrived,
landing right on my shoulders.
a blazing comet has hit me in the chest,
electrifying my heart and mind.
i've taken kindly to this comet
that burns through my broken heart.
a little heat and it was mended,
now you are melting it into my hands.
and the breath from my words can't help,
the full moon curses at me, "you asked for this love you ******* idiot, are you happy now?!"

I love this comet,

i do.

but it burns far greater than me.
I'm terrified to drop you,
you magical being.
i see your cracks,
and i don't want to break you.
I don't want to hurt you.
"god ****** Dylan!"

Therefore I don't deserve this ball of light,
you clasp of life,
I am not worthy...
It's so heavy I can't breathe. Please, have a good day humans.
Jack Dec 2013
Ancient wounds ~ Comet wishes


Bleeding from these ancient wounds
Falling to the earth below
Mud red, blood red, softening the ground
My footprints ache in format patterns

So long the wounds, of age defined,
Dripping masses in the mist
Marked for life, while a beating heart
pumps eternal fluid fears

Watching as the puddles grow,
round at first and then obscure
Fading faster than the sun
on its westward trek of daylight shadows

Weak…I find my eyes they stare
off into the crowning moon
Beams of effervescent glow
shroud me in unknown pleasures

Rising above the crusted mounds
Light as any whispered breeze
Words now call in sweet caress
Melodies of past preferred ring

Lyrics sung to me and me alone
A language that my soul does speak
Piano keys in blended black and white
string together lasting impressions

Symphonies of a healing concerto
press upon my quivered skin
Scars now dance at the revival
and still my feet don’t find the floor

My hand is touched, fingers moved
Warmth embraces this awkward grip
as peace flows, smooth, soft, subtle
through my veins

The bleeding has ceased
Disappeared among comet wishes
and my heart, once silent, now sings
in harmony with her voice…and I dream
Nat Lipstadt Dec 2013
Ison,

you who are the sons,
this is addressed to you.

you who are comets,
you who are not,
cannot believe, you are
comet,
but are nonetheless.

You who awake and say,
I, Son
be whom you must,
pretend not to be
the son of...

no matter how many
millions of miles must be
traveled till you are visible,
no matter how brief your life,
you are more than Ison,
your are yourself, part son,
but all man, unique.

set your own course,
if to the sun you must fly,
set the course you choose,
and we will call you by your
name true,
I, Comet.
---------------------------------
http://online.wsj.com/news/articles/SB10001424052702303497804579240290630829078#printMode


Like Icarus, Comet Ison flew too close to the sun and perished. After passing near the solar surface on Thanksgiving Day, Ison vanished in a ghostly puff. Ice and dust proved no match for infernal heat. Next up is Comet Lovejoy, whose close encounter with the sun will take place on Christmas Day.

Here on the island of Nantucket, we know well the heartbreak of comets. In 1847, Maria Mitchell became world famous for discovering a comet from the rooftop of her family's home on this fleck of land 30 miles out to sea, the first comet ever found using a telescope. Mitchell's calculation of the comet's orbit showed that its trajectory would carry it away from the solar system, never to return. Within three months of its discovery, the comet had faded from view, beyond the light-gathering capabilities of even the most powerful telescopes. All that remains today is a memory.

According to Greek legend, when Icarus and his father, Daedalus, were imprisoned by King Minos on the island of Crete, Daedalus built wings of feathers and wax for their escape, cautioning Icarus not to fly too high because the sun would melt the wax. But Icarus was so overjoyed by his ability to soar and swoop like a bird that he forgot his father's warning. As he flew higher and higher, the feathers came loose and he fell to his death in the sea below.

Ison was once a prisoner too, held for billions of years in our solar system's dark netherworld, the Oort cloud, a place so remote it takes a beam of sunlight a year to arrive there. Freed by a sudden gust of gravity from a passing star, the comet began its exhilarating but ill-fated flight to the sun a few million years ago.
Mateuš Conrad Sep 2018
. you're using all the right words: for all the wrong reasons... and let's face it: if women own the monopoly on reproductive avenues... then men hold the ego-key, to slot their presence, through a door, that curbs or gives allowances, to what is thought... *** was nether a transluçent enterprise... oh look... the Roma sigma pops up... dire straits: de profundis - money for nothing riff - boogie boogie... milkshakes from the 1950s 'n' all... you know what my biggest pet peeve is? the englih language imitating ancient Latin, i.e. not applying diacritical "punctuation" markers to close in on syllables and make the language atomic (i.e. H is hydrogen, He is helium)... **** me... the same Brits who lived in the 19th century, are not the same Brits living in the 21st century... no wonder the fertility rate is s ****** low.... try ******* an english bride... no thank you; i'd rather **** a female gorilla.

the milkman passes my house
at, circa, 3am...
see the van skid around the bend
up the hill...
            
i listen to music at volumes
equivalent to my father working
the construction site -
i'll be deaf by the time i'm 50...
     and guess what:
                  for the music i'm listening
to? it'll be worth it...

dittoing out:
   have the criticism of post-modernists
ever suffer?
doubt: doubt, is the modern
relief from existentialist
    negation...
  
why is doubt being attacked?
doubt is half than that outright
******* of denial
proposed by French existentialists...
doubt is good in that it's
tornado of emotions,
you want to imitate Christ on
Golgotha?
  you doubt, and achieve the pinnacle
of the passion...
you start negating?
     you're, nowhere...

    on your own...

came the noun-phobia of philosophers -
the tinkers and tailors
of a.. what seems to be:
a noun-phobia
  guaranteed with fog...
   and thing..

  the term
  "thing" presupposes
the supposition of tree...
     which subsequently serves
the proposition: let's hide in it!

      philosophy and its infamous
noun-phobia -
               thing...
           and it's nihil...
  its nothing...
      
                 a ******* cul de sac -
     epigram -
       of quasi morse encoding -
     braille to boot -
September is coming -
           van Morrison (moondance) -
hiding autumnal chill -
           pan-Europeanism:
proto-"africa": either in Hindustan -
or Siberia;

suppose a moon, suppose a shadow by
candlelight, some edgy urban solo -
as a bricklayer i could raise kids
and crux on a woman -
          chicken / doctoral itching with
a blunt nail are called scratchings -
       hand-writing:
             less digits in the digital
formatting - and more
calligraphy...
                      the rotten handwriting
of general practitioners...
     Hippocrates might have made an oath...
but in terms of a handwritten cipher?
no clue...
               the canvas of a monkey
onomatopoeia within the confines
of a custard of a lexicon...
   a mouth thus opens -
a month begins -
instead of a tongue ejected from
the ivory temple -
  a sludge crescendo of a quasi
                 cascade of sludge gluing the
whole theater into
a replica of a Russian drinking game...

....                 ⠞⠓
          ...     ⠑⠁⠑
     ...           ⠞⠑
    ............                  ⠞
...                      ⠥ ⠎
     : : :           -  ⠎          
   ........ : ....           ⠕?

100 wolves of the continent...
for, but 1, fox,
of the English isles...
   i'll settle for that ratio...
and then i'll bite to ensure
a signature!

  howl all you want...
but have you ever found seagulls
annoying up the river?
more annoying than magpies
or crows?
             the wolves can howl
all they want..
ever endear the ear
to hear a fox "laughing"?
   no?
  might as well listen to me.
i cradle that sound,
above the chariots
of a human newborn...
        i grieve!
   i am... sombre gsture...
    a past, a passing,
a future, a wicker man within:
torch...
   banquette of souls!

    let's interlude -

   touko "tom" laaksonen -
    how can people "do" sober
           when entertaining such
extravagances....
        is it empathy, or sympathy?
            in the name of the either,
with either being the sum
of what wll never be a sum
allowance,....
     to gain from...
                  why not
       ****-ease up the ****
    for a zeppelin-esque
                            bomb drop -
(minor the Nagasaki) -
                    and hand-piked ****
with the cusp of your hand -
         throne of thrones -
  flagship?
   "king of kings":
  like ****...
  the holy trinity of
       the no. 1, as the no. 2,
   and subsequently the no. 3:
**** (father),
       take a **** (son)...
            ******* (the holy ghosts)...
king of kings,
never sat on the throne
of thrones...
   i always hated "artists"...
    painters -
   plagiarists -
      cheque sketchers...
             plagiarists...
         ******* indentation
from holding a pen to add to having
exposure to a grammatical examination...
       quality cinema:
panorama take on a versus of
heavy editing...
                     and there was a time
frame to encompass dialogue...
      somehow it fits:
the verbal myopic -
            the entire pre-
& post- canvas of a blinking eye...
   always the question of the
pre-industrialißed sketch;
words predating metaphor
akin to  -
  words versus metaphor
in genesis -
   format? anecdotal.

      in writing:
            by one hand alone,
made into two...
        my, my...
  what a ****** self-portrait
"assumption"...
        a self-portrait...
a wish for color,
with nothing to show,
but the relief of encompassed bones;
that become a disembodied
skeleton - minus a purpose
of tendon attachments...

∟          "contra"    Δ          -
equilateral my ***...

            a few days spent within the confines
of a Promethean *****,
     there be, elemental insomnia
of an electric bespoke...
if Prometheus stole fire,
who, in in all for ****'s sake
stole the saber of Zeus,
the thunderbolt -
electricity, who?
who craved the insomnia?!
             this Frankenstein-esque
insomnia-zombification -
             white as is white:
with all the dermatological
copper take on broken shins...
         should ivory coco -
come between piglet *** copper
auburn in terms of autumn...
******...
             *******!

take your ****** *** elsewhere,
and then... start spelling
it with a missing G...
when citing Niger...
  you do the double dip of the NBA...
you count the second dip...
why do i love Batman as the best
superhero?
  not of his superhero powers,
he has none...
          his enemies are
the only interesting
counter-factoids of
having implemented an existence
for.
   there is no exacting of
a superhero,..
   but there is enough
to mind an antithesis...

          tylko wieśniak
by wydział film w tym,
          bo sie nie rusze -
    cegła, kamień -
       pień - mur -
           i by mówił - w tym
co zamarzło -
          to co ostygłe -
    w co z tym samym -
        meine filmisch -
      i skakaniem świec -
   od i na nagim cieniem -
   pytać nad pyche -
       tanz! tanz!
                 moje iskry słów...
   sto! i lat,
    o wielbłąd churem o
grzbiet da, i da,
       iskra; alfabetu!
    bogiem impromptu
o czym warty: -gień.


- suppose a moon, suppose a shadow,
by candlelight - within the confines of
mercury - that quickened silver -
some edgy urban solo -

      as a bricklayer or a cobbler  -
shoes that deviate from ushering
an echo -
          i could raise children and keep
a woman: only if she decided
upon not allowing me
a leash -
            what a saddening affair
of minds and freedom...
           chicken doctoral -
i don't know: vanity of the impossible
mortal gain...

    the monkey onomatopoeia
    within the confines of a custard
of  lexicon....

          that Victorian image proof
source of envisioned Braille in
the confines of a primate...
  
handwriting:
itches, scratches, chicken esque
clucking... which is what
handwriting looks like these days,
what, with the coding...
    semi plumber,
half the electrician...
  and certainly null when it comes
to calligraphic invigoration...

- homosexuality was always a contingency
escapade to release suppressed yearnings -
a sudden but a non-fulfillment questioning
celibacy...

               you can enforce curbing homosexuality,
but then there are two outlets...
the perversity: or the question...
of Ayn and Sophia...
                          
        greeks ****** the hebrews in the hole
without an outlet - zee heed: with a missing A...
      Ayn - Aleph -
                    twin Adam -
          perhaps a Siamese abomination...

mind you... the forbidden fruit?
sounds more like... the forbidden flesh...

thee burdensome walking
the already burdened earth: as the fruit,
somewhere between the flesh of man's last predator,
contained, on land, and his hidden desire
for revenge and introspection,
a denial of commonality and shared purpose -
thou shall not consume
that which also hunts you -
little or no concern with equal
     measure of forbidding, that which you pet...
the forbidden "fruit",
in between the flesh of a sabertooth tiger,
and Cain's fruit of famine and incompetence:
               cannibalism...

   and why would you think about
drinking a ms. amber with pepsi...
pepsi! to coca -
and not slide in a slice of lemon
while you're at it?
  terrible mistake...
       well... one way to get y'er vit amins...

        and why is it that all the best
movies these days are about homosexuals?
the dutch girl for starters...
   me, drinking, watching t.v.?
either **** good drama,
a western,
   or a movie about a *******
homosexual...
          did i mention that i think that
homosexuality is an auxiliary escapade plan?
natural, of course,
    but i'd hate to have to life
a doubled up life -
then again...
     perhaps i would...
           me? i have a new girlfriend -
Sophia - and her ****: Philip -
           so am i expected to make demands
for the child they might end up
called Ayn, or Aleph?
                - the Wahhabi hypocrisy
    concerning music, or rather, censoring it...
but... but i thought the adhan:
the call to prayer: was sung,
rather than abiding by the catholic
credo murmur?
     no?
                         my bad... you know better...
i'll send you a postcard from
the Galapagos Islands,
if i find the time, to find:
    that 4th dimensional concept doing
the trigonometric shoom! elsewhere -
on a tangen "bias": **** knows where -
like a comet - missing a tail -
shoom!                                       gone.

shrapnel:

            not enough thrills for a hard-on...
... images... drawings...
   apparently fine art is not enough
stimulation to ******* to for these Arabs...
****? .....   in general?
cartoons.... cartoons of women....
   ... because?
well... apparently the niqab...
  extends beyond the realm of...
  readily available attire...
            women on the street?
   pornographic "actresses"?
                       you see the cartoon?
it's all ******* ******...
                  oh don't get me wrong...
amy adams?
  buff as an exploding Hindenburg...
    the pale ginger - milchskin...
                - unrelated:
   how about i sneak a skunk into
        a coco chanel perfumery -
while advocating that people will still
call it a: scent just shy of roses and strawberries.

- people have heard of incels -
but have they heard of Vcels?
    huh?!
   yeah, yeah... voluntary celibacy -
i know what a ****** sounds and looks like -
and, to be honest?
   there's hardly any rhetorical ***
involved -
         a bit like jerking off...
              monkish chants -
Byzantine -
     the fear of man,
   when his own inability flourishes:
     in a woman...
                          
these acts have become well trodden...
so well trodden that i'm
authentically surprised that anyone
would still goosestep them into
their mundane plagiarism's existence...
    replica invigoration:
turns out...
    
   zeit ist nicht gerade, aber
kreisförmig
...

                              touko "tom" laaksonen...
i.e. tom of finland...
   question: you think a macron over
one of those As
                     would do the trick in terms
of spelling correction?

  touko "tom" laaksonen...
you seriously can only watch European cinema
while drinking...
    again... invigorating the english language:
one baby step at a time -
a simple grapheme -

    the vater's S Z interchangeability -
   synchronised contra synchronized -
    settled -
    synchronißed -
                       sometimes the slithering S
of a snake -
   otherwise the rigid totem with
a torso of a zebra...
                     hardly a major investment -
but when i see English having moved
from the Elizabethan Shaky Steward of
thou etc. -
       imitating ancient Latin -
    coordinating the Greenwich study of
dyslexia...
            Joyce...
              no diacritical application?
   hell...
                 might as well release a bull
into a China shop...
                 or a rottweiler into chicken shack...
still... why is there an orthographic aesthetic
in practice, hovering over I and J,
  when there's no difference, as suggested
in CAPiTAL letterIng?
                                       ah... i see...
the english "think" they can bypass the para-
frontier, and the orthographic frontier
and race down to the metaphysics...
        first?
   you explain why it's i and not ι,
  and why it's j and not ȷ.
Asia Feb 2019
You were a comet,
Your eyes shone like embers
Your smile took me over, and
left this heart all but still.

I watched as you flew by,
through the glass of a window
Every night I would find you
like a light guiding me home.

My hands couldn't reach you,
but your soul held me tight
Might I lay here in this warmth,  and
Listen close to the words you recite?

But yet you are a comet,
You cannot stay for long
the second I think I've caught you,
the moment I realise you're gone..
Ill be honest, I got inspired to write this after re-watching all the scenes between Allura and Lance (Voltron). Yes I know, I love making myself suffer xD but I can't get over that final episode. I have a serious love hate relationship with it atm! Allura and Lance deserved betterrrrr, But oh well, all in all it was a beautiful ending and it was heartwarming to see the team move on and find happiness ( Also, can I get a cheer for SHIRO here!! YOU MARRY THAT MAN BOY <3333 , You deserve ittt)
Okay okay thats all, anyway hope you enjoy it and if you know anything about Voltron , than I hope this poem did it justice... :))
ZT Sep 2014
I am bruising over and
over, my hands underneath the sapphire
fire they turn scarlet not livid
like my skin, deep blue upon touch.

I dream of ghosts on lustrous seas,
spirits that see
the endless ends of this and
how vapour fades to
return to the ruins. Light,

she dances on crystals only
because inside it is cold, colder
than bitter winters I have not seen.

Teach me how to lie awake
in sleepless quiet, glittering with
answers. Teach me how to burn
like a comet before their great
fall.
the comet shoots through the vastness, the starkness, the blackness- splashed with shades unimaginable (radiant), your apex- no longer in an aphelion, feel the warmth of the sun, see the smiling ring, unstoppable pull, dissipating the cold, the tail ignites the night sky (colorful smudges drifting) strikes the corona and dissolves into your heat.
i'm a comet stuck in your orbit – and when you melt me, it’s the prettiest thing imaginable.
Cunning Linguist Mar 2014
I opened a door in the cosmos
and was swallowed, ensconced
by the darkness that followed.

Euphoric,
there you were
Phantasmagoric and sidereal;
I find I'm beside myself.

Come along and freefall with me
At the end of times
O'er the cliffs of nigh
We'll aspire to fire into spirals of nebulous unknown.
A companion to "Foxy space lady,"
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/546952/foxy-space-lady/
Umi Apr 2018
Silicate, emotionless sedimentary,
Darling, it is cold, doesn't care wheter it breaks or if it is swept away in a stream, cut into small pieces by the sharp rush of flowing water,
While it may hold no emotions, it can be the bringer of hope, bliss, happiness, sadness but also spite and envy, or a simple fulfilment,
Look at the wedding-rings, their stones on top to embellish beauty such as the insurance to be with the other through thick and thin,
Some diamonds are rough, but they are stronger than stones, if that is enough, harder and almost unbreakable, sorted in line moliculary,
When the kiss of death puts us to rest, a tombstone is the sad, cruel remembrence of a former life, sprouting blossoming and blooming, before returning to the soil it once had found its origin, its beginning,
I will try to be your wishing one, your shooting star, racing through the glory of the starlit nightsky to catch a moment of your passion,
Burning up within the atmosphere of your warm embrace, dearest.
Drawn by your gravitational impact on me, I will be your comet, returning to you each day without burning away as rapid as a meteor.
Darling, alike a blazing Sun you make me melt.

~ Umi
I am sorry for these love poems, I can't help it sometimes <3
twelve caesuras Sep 2014
A COMET'S TRUE DESTINATION*

nothing short of desperation,
living like an imitation
a hated king's reincarnation
today's hate in glowing pixelation
today's hate looks like death's flirtation
cope with constant inebration
these eyes give empty implications

these eyes once saw with fascination
gazed happily at starstruck creations
listened to crap pop radio stations
had plenty of useless aspirations
did homework at the end of vacation
could do those mental calculations
these eyes now see the world's damnation

each smile is a fabrication
these curves are ones of great starvation
this poetry stinks of depravation
you can hear it in every conversation
describes life's expropriation
fill your lungs, reverberation
blank soul body inhabitation

each gesture is an accusation
slow it down acceleration
heavy thoughts, the day's cessation
feel the pain's alleviation
watch them wither, this speculation
each sigh is an obliteration
the birth of a hindered generation

see me stagger, indignation
wait for the fall with anticipation
i am my own violation
open armed to isolation
white walls, live incarceration
black sky dehumanization
this is a comet's true destination:

a baron land with no salvation
Rogue Aug 2017
Let me start by saying goodbye.

As to every moment you draw
near me, a sporadic mystical
event, left me in overawe of
you and your conflagrant hue
as you trail across me, I see
how glorious you ought to be;
how a great voyage you are on
and how I am of other kind, not
of your own; how we were never
to collide, nor a glimpse of me
in your memory 'twas never to
provide a hunch of who I am
Perhaps, this is how it should be
For a moon has her sun
and a comet has his journey
And the moon is to eclipse with her sun
and the comet has to go with his journey
Thus, I shall cut this heartstring,
and swim out of this drowning
sea of dreams and delusions
and breath the reality back in
Yet I will forever and always be,
an admirer of your beauty; and
maybe, in another time, you
might catch a glimpse of me
covered in blanket of darkness,
accompanied by myriad stars,
You will see me, I know you will
But you will never recognize me
for and with my eternal mediocrity

And I will end by saying hello.
Shelby Lynn Aug 2013
the gazer, he is called.
he calmly watches the world around him.
he analyzes threats and joys.
he sees clouds, sun, planets, and people.
but this one stops him.
this thing.
it stops him. and it stops his heart.
this one, different thing...

first a description:
he is nothing miraculous
funny, because i love him
that, in itself is not a miracle.
for love is easy. it's blind and cruel.
but this...this feeling
whatever it is....it is unworldly.
this one, different thing...

here's the poem, here's some lines,
i'll try to make sense, i'll try to rhyme.
here is a special few verses
for the special man who nurses
not mine, but our weary souls.
this one, different thing...

-begin-

his past is as dark as his hair,
heart as light as his eyes are fair.
he is smart, but no genius
he is strong, with no meanness

he has a name which gives him no favors,
his voice is a sound that never quavers.
his family, a gem
not of glass or stone,
but one of him,
one of home.

to be polished and cleaned,
shined til it gleamed
scratches run deep
as it's surface will weep

but family, none-the-less
a gem, but i digress.
this is for him, not them.

he is taller than i,
he sees but is blind
but when i come to mind,
i open his eyes.

in a flash i arose, i shot through his sky
i lit up his world with my light and my try
i'm a once-in-a-lifetime
i'm a half-witted rhyme
i'm a comet, you see
flying alone and flying free.

but this flight was different.
every pass 'round the sun, i grow weaker.
my tail shortens, my ice is spent.
my voice becomes meeker.

as i shot by above the earth's sky
i spied with my little eye,
a man.

i've seen many men.
i've seen planets.
i've seen rocks.
i've seen just about anything a comet can see.

but this man. he stopped. and he looked.
right at me. right through me. right through me.
i may have been wrong, i may have mistook,
but when i saw him, i saw me, i saw we.

i'm not the only comet he's seen
but i am the brightest.
the time he's spent on earth
with rocks so mean,
they make diamonds look weak
(like the ones on her hand)

but i am the brightest.
i'm the cleanest, i'm the rightest.
that's why we froze in time.

but for a moment,
a fleeting, shining, bursting moment in time.
he made me want to stay.
he made me want to lay
on earth.
with him.
forever.

but this is not the way of comets.
we come and we go
we shine and we glow
but we never stop.
we never halt.
we never drop.
we don't show fault.

but this man, he stopped me.
my orbit slowed
my heart showed
i stared and i lingered
i grasped for his fingers.

he dragged me down to the hell on earth
we danced and we sang and giggled with mirth.
this man and i, had this thing.
this one, special thing.

but, as the way of comets, i desired to leave
i wanted to fly, i wanted to believe
that i had a choice, i had a say
in my present and my future day.

not true, not true, not true at all
this man made me stumble, this man made me fall.
he held me down and stole my flight
i begged and i pleaded to only his delight.

i am no longer a comet, bright and flashing
i am a rock with an icy core
but a heart still dashing
evermore, evermore.

he took my sky, my light, and space
but i had my heart, just enough to save face.
i still love him to this day
i love him and i will stay.

he melted my outer layer while freezing my soul
but i am still me and i will recover in time
his wedding ring lies on the counter in a bowl
and i'm here waiting to make him mine.

september can't come a day too soon
he's cheated, he's lied his way to the moon.
but he's here now, today, this moment in time.
he's honest, he's changing, and soon he'll be mine.

i trust and i believe with every fiber of my being
that we were meant to be, just the time will be fleeting.
wrong time, wrong place
there's nothing we can do to change the ways of fate.

this is how it will be.
he will walk away and i will be free.
i can wander, i can fight, i can die.
he will live, he will work, he will lie.

some things change and others do not
i accept him as he is and love him with all i've got.
there is that one special person that you never forget
he is mine in this lifetime as she was his, which i regret.

i wish it was me. i wish he could see.
i wish i was there. i wish life was fair.
but years separate our bodies and we
will never be one even if we did so care.

wrong time, wrong place
we were never meant to be.
but i will love him and he will love me.
soon we'll separate just to save face.

time will pass and nature will weather our core
our minds will be lost and our souls set free
maybe then we can truly be. you and i, him and me.
evermore, evermore.
Algernon Mar 2016
hey there comet
sorry about throwing you away
i mistook you for a bad idea
i missed the can and you ended up in orbit
***** little snowball without a place to land
spinning in space without a ship
when i was little i did not want to be an astronaut
i wanted to be a teacher and a mom
i wanted to be responsible for shaping little souls
i thought it would be like play-doh
i thought it would be like dress up
because when i put on mommies sweater
daddys glasses
growing up was just about getting larger
so that this dwarf planet could become a sun
with a few more servings of vegetables
and some glasses of milk
stretching my bones by hanging off the monkey bars
gravity worked for me
and gravity kept me grounded
and gravity kept the planets in place
and gravity would grant me permission to grow
but i would never become a planet
because i was born a bit too fast
and a bit too cold
so just make sure
to orbit on back around this planet
my little comet
and I won’t miss it this time
Arlo Disarray Apr 2015
I was drinking on the moon when I got a little sick
It was probably from the space toad I decided to lick
So I puked over the edge of the moon with ***** *****
As it hit the sky, it froze and turned into a nasty comet

As my comet flew through space, I hopped on with zero fears
As we zoomed through all the stars, traveling a few lightyears
And as we reach our buddy Pluto, the comet asks "Why so blue?"

Pluto simply stated "If you were a planet, and they told you that you weren't, you'd be upset too."

We let Pluto join us as we had our space fun
And we decided to head back around to the sun
But the sun melted Pluto and it melted my comet
When the sky was filled with my old *****

And as I float alone, I see Time's ever-dropping sands
As he swirls out from the hourglass, and I shake both his hands
I ask him for one more chance in this place
As he opens up his stopwatch face
And when he looks me in the eyes, he shakes his head
"You'll never learn. I'm sorry, no." is what Time had said
Waverly Feb 2012
Love is a universe of sorts,
in many ways
two people can become
galaxies
on a collision course,
their arms waiting to wrap
and warp
around each other,
or one will be smaller
and less bright
hungering to be consumed
by the supermassive heart
at the center of its lover,
or one lover
is a comet;
the other
is a sun.
the comet burns
against the corona;
it lets off a trail
sweet and cooling,
and against the sun
it feels like the beginnings
of a nova,
the final cool-down
and planet-consuming explosion of it's outer layers,
but instead,
the comet uses the sun's gravity
to slingshot into deep space,
and the sun screams
in engulfing bursts of light
as the comet trails off,
leaving behind a dissipating gas trail
in its wake,
tugging less and less,
forging an ice-road into eternity.
Gnat.
ZWS May 2014
Sitting solid on a thinking throne
Drinking bottles that sing melancholy tones
Singing lone, resonating to your bones
Your fragile little frame cannot save the show
Not when you're casting skys clouding with crows

Your mind is pale, sick to it's stomach
Everything up there can't reconcile, but luck
It's begun to resonate quietly like a comets tail
When your playing on mental jungle gyms of shale

I'm sure there's things that keep you up
Drugs, and alcohol, and fasting all day
A cyclical belt of asteroid tales
You think so much you've burnt an image
Of cotton dreams, so soft and harsh, but somehow sail
You may never grasp them, but you've reached so far you've become so frail

It's hard to try, it's even harder to pry
Open your heart, and let yourself cry
The castles you build are built of tears, and the cemetery near is calling your fears
The foundation is weak, and your pastor you seek, but everything you've found thus far, oblique
Cast your shadows as you will, but they're just funny puppets you've conjured in the night still
Di Mar 2014
I suppose I should be a star-gazer.
Expectant of everything,
As the stars are mapped and shown
To their place every night.

But it seems as though
Everyone has seen Hailey's Comet
And I've yet to see an asteroid.
Always waiting, waiting.

Is it such a task?
I place myself
At every possible spot.
Years and years pass - nothing.

Just a glimpse, just a drop
Of that euphoria of the first time,
The first wistful look into
The eyes of such a wonder.

But it moves away from me.
Every **** time.
Seeing the flaws
And jagged downfalls within me.

I am just a simple star.
He is the comet.
Never shall the two touch.
-_-
Kataleya Feb 2015
I'm gazing up, I'm gazing high.
Let me watch the stars tonight.

It mightn't give me better grades,
or wash my clothes or clean the plates,
or make me famous, make me rich,
or change the direction of my fate.
And it won't just fix the politics,
or save the falling economy,
or cease these tiring, endless wars
and it won't eradicate poverty.

But even if there's nothing right,
let me watch the stars tonight.

Hitchhiking through the galaxy,
a blazing comet passes by,
and waves to billion specks of light,
those sparkling diamonds in the sky.

Tomorrow I may change the world,
or I might even exercise.
Tonight I'm gazing up and high,
I'm looking at the stars tonight.
Tyler Brooks Aug 2013
A metal frog swimming through the icy water
Words without a story
Something lighthearted
Cliché
A comet
Frank Sinatra in the background
Metaphysical relationships
Bouncing on a comet
A kettle steaming
Sarcastic bombs and sunsets
Sneaking off to drink
Future video games and bro love
Clerical errors and burnt memories
Funny people subtract lingerie
Maybe limbo
Sometimes tragedy.
Tonight is the night of forgotten poems, poems I wrote long ago and stumbled upon once more tonight.
deuynn Oct 2018
the blinding light
of the sun setting
two people
insignificant
compared to the near twilight sky

a comet
falls through the
sky
and the sky lit from the beautiful

two people run
around a large crater
and as they pass each
other, three years apart
they stop

the sun sinks out of sight
and shifts to twilight
the bright light
lessens to show
the two standing
together

"kataware-doki"

the girl cries in happiness
while the other smiles
they hug
And the girl questions
"When will I see you again"

the boy suggests
"let’s write our names on each
other, so we don't forget"
he pulls a pen out of his pocket

she agrees, and the boy
writes on the palm of
The girl he has known
for a short while, but
feels like he's known for years

They exchange the pen, and
The girl writes the one line-

and the pen falls

the beautiful can become the terrifying
the comet nears the small town
the crater overlooks
splits
and falls
This poem is inspired by the ****** in Your Name, Kataware-Doki.
Bare-handed, I hand the combs.
The man in white smiles, bare-handed,
Our cheesecloth gauntlets neat and sweet,
The throats of our wrists brave lilies.
He and I

Have a thousand clean cells between us,
Eight combs of yellow cups,
And the hive itself a teacup,
White with pink flowers on it,
With excessive love I enameled it

Thinking 'Sweetness, sweetness.'
Brood cells gray as the fossils of shells
Terrify me, they seem so old.
What am I buying, wormy mahogany?
Is there any queen at all in it?

If there is, she is old,
Her wings torn shawls, her long body
Rubbed of its plush ----
Poor and bare and unqueenly and even shameful.
I stand in a column

Of winged, unmiraculous women,
Honey-drudgers.
I am no drudge
Though for years I have eaten dust
And dried plates with my dense hair.

And seen my strangeness evaporate,
Blue dew from dangerous skin.
Will they hate me,
These women who only scurry,
Whose news is the open cherry, the open clover?

It is almost over.
I am in control.
Here is my honey-machine,
It will work without thinking,
Opening, in spring, like an industrious ******

To scour the creaming crests
As the moon, for its ivory powders, scours the sea.
A third person is watching.
He has nothing to do with the bee-seller or with me.
Now he is gone

In eight great bounds, a great scapegoat.
Here is his slipper, here is another,
And here the square of white linen
He wore instead of a hat.
He was sweet,

The sweat of his efforts a rain
Tugging the world to fruit.
The bees found him out,
Molding onto his lips like lies,
Complicating his features.

They thought death was worth it, but I
Have a self to recover, a queen.
Is she dead, is she sleeping?
Where has she been,
With her lion-red body, her wings of glass?

Now she is flying
More terrible than she ever was, red
Scar in the sky, red comet
Over the engine that killed her ----
The mausoleum, the wax house.

— The End —