"coordinates" poems
Our bodies lay parallel
Next to each other -
We never cross,
We never touch.
I forget what it's like to feel
Perpendicular to you.
These coordinates I've learned
To graph over my years
Finally have meaning to me now.
And I now realize that I
Hate mathematics more
Than I did my sophomore year.
Oct 25, 2014
Oct 25, 2014 at 10:13 PM UTC
There is a harsh beauty in mathematics.
Under curves and over slopes,
Equations rise and fall endlessly
In a perfectly measured void.
Optimized, rationalized, sterilized;
Formulas that never lie,
Theorems looming before us
Like an archaic God,
A golden deity whose
Volume is maximized.
How I dream of drifting in this flux,
Concave up and concave down,
Riding the sign of my second derivative
For positive and negative,
For better and worse.
I would not travel alone;
With C by my side,
Friend, ally, brother,
Always paired with my antiderivative,
For whenever we journey back
Into the past, it is necessary
To have a companion to pull us out again
In case we are unsure of where we started.
Rules and laws
Strict organization, control;
There is a harsh beauty in mathematics.
Order; two plus two is always four.
Sines and cosines and theta
All dancing in the unit circle of life,
A conga line that joins itself
To form a mathematical ouroboros.
But the harshest of the harsh beauties
Presented in this Divine Subject
Is that though there is an infinite capacity
For positivity and growth,
So too is there the possibility of stretching
Endlessly towards negativity forever.
However, it is much more terrifying
To lie in the middle;
To be undefined, unknowable, and to add
Or subtract to no effect;
The most fear inducing, mysterious, and gorgeous number
Of zero; nothing yet something,
Infinite yet not,
The most grand of all contradictions.
A hole; a jump; a discontinuity,
Easily removed from life and smoothed out
If you just apply the formulas.
Graphs and coordinates, integers and ordered pairs,
Is that not what life is?
We live within the grandest equation,
Each our own variable,
Constantly solving for ourselves
With the harsh beauties of mathematics.
Jun 2, 2013
Jun 2, 2013 at 10:27 PM UTC
You should never make fun of someone else’s beliefs
Where you are right now has less than a few hundred million miles of surface area
You can’t even walk on 70% of it
77 years of life on average if you’re a healthy American
That’s only 4,015 weeks
28,105 days on this small planet floating in a large black mass
You’ve already lived about one eighth of your life
Time won’t stop for you
Your days on this blue marble go by and there’s nothing you can do to stop it
Believing there’s something more is nothing to scoff at
Do you really believe that? they say
Do you really believe there is a man in the sky?
Well since you asked here’s my answer
I believe there is meaning in every day
I believe there is a point to waking up and doing good actions
I believe there is a spirit in emotion
And a metaphysical being who loves me endlessly
Yes
I believe in something more
Now it’s my turn
Do you really believe that?
Do you really believe this whole thing is a scientific coincidence?
A cosmic collision at a specific point
An explosion that created all of this
Perfect atoms with electrons that bond and share
Creating perfect cells with all the right organelles
A process of cellular respiration that coordinates as a perfect opposite to photosynthesis
All to maintain homeostasis,
the so-called “wonder process”
that keeps us all alive
Our bodies preserve an exact temperature, the ocean an exact pH and salinity and the ground an exact resistivity
To keep us all alive
Scientific coincidence
We are all a coincidence?
What about that shooting in Newtown
More than one kid took a gun to his head
and what for?
Why was that so tragic?
The shooter could have been conducting a scientific experiment
What is the basis of right and wrong derived from?
What are feelings derived from?
Don’t tell me it’s science
Don’t tell me that it’s science that makes you cry when you get dumped
Science that breaks your heart when you lose that state championship
Science that lightens your spirit when you go home to your beautiful family after a long hard day
It’s not science
It’s your soul
A soul given to you with a light side and a dark side
A soul with genius thoughts and horrid sins
Genius thoughts you should act on
Horrid sins you may commit anyway
and He will love you
He will forgive you
Will your precious science forgive you?
I wouldn’t force anything on anyone
I wouldn’t question beliefs in science had my faith in God not first been tested
I’m not asking you to believe, whether you do or not won’t affect our relations
I just need to explain
To each his own
So don’t laugh at me
Apr 16, 2013
Apr 16, 2013 at 10:12 PM UTC
Check:
Let O = Orifice
Let D = What ever your imagination brings you to
The Limit as D approaches O
you see her face start to glow
The log of the base
is a way to find the D in her face
No function can go on an asymptotes
But i will **** in her and cover her *** in ***** layered coats
The polar coordinates of your O
Is Tangent to where she is ******* my big toe
Because you will find me in her
The quadratic has multiple integers
The function calls to vertically stretch O
So at the end of the day I Dont Really Know
This is a metaphor for really weird ***
Thanks.
Jan 24, 2014
Jan 24, 2014 at 9:21 AM UTC
Coffee on my breath,
wearing a frown.
Sunshine, my sweater,
my soul turns brown.
Lips slick with chapstick,
chics' licking sack n' ****
drag off a ******* *** n' lean,
obscene in the sense,
the ******* fags' a drag queen.
Rival the bible,
hell to sell any,
whats worse, church
bells smell ugly
under my nose.
I chose the shallow dirt
road to death, even the
tallest tales hail the same frail fate.
Fill my urn to earn my fill,
**** it.
There is no still
frame to capture the moment,
fracture the film and leave it alone.
Yellow toned, below me,
sallow, cornered in color coordinates.
Drenched cover but dry at the core of it;
dazzled by **** dazzled by diction,
you write the dirtiest fiction
and I'm the ******* ***** in it.
Leather bound, cable wound,
leather bound. Black.
Leather.
Sep 18, 2010
Sep 18, 2010 at 7:30 PM UTC
It is tonight
That I realize
For the first time
I am starting to forget you
I am beginning to mix up pieces of the past
Like undated polaroids
In a box that is too big-
I am not quite sure
Where exactly they fit in
I don't remember
Your laugh very well
I can only vaguely recall your smile
I see it in updated pictures
But it is not the same one I knew
It is not the one that spent hours
Folding into the crook of my neck
Or humming against the curve of my spine
The smile I see in pictures
Is different
The lips belong to someone
I am unfamiliar with
Someone I have never kissed
And the once clear snapshots
Of our moments
Are now shaded over and blurry
My biggest fear
Used to be losing you
My biggest fear now
Is being unable to
Remember you
To have you stripped
From my consciousness
It is the reaccuring nightmare
That wakes me suddenly
In the midst of comfort
I fall asleep to the same songs
You used to sing to me
But I don't even know the words anymore
There is nothing more terrifying
Than realizing
You are moving on
Nothing more frightening
Than realizing you have to
Eventually
But I don't want to forget you
I don't want to embrace
Your disappearance from my thoughts
I don't want you to evaporate
Like the rain we used to sit under
With our hands open
To catch the remnants of summer heat
I can still smell the air
And feel your warmth breath on my cheek
But the reality is
I am starting to forget
And I have never been more scared in my life
This is not about
Letting go
This is about how memory
Has the ability to shed its skin
It has been so long
That I am starting to forget how yours felt
Against my own
Your marks and your scars
Your freckles
Used to be my territory
I knew exactly where they stood
But now your body is a map
I no longer know the coordinates to
I used to take that path home
Every single night
But now I cannot even remember
The route to get to your house
You are slipping through the cracks
Of my fingers
And there is nothing
That can be done to prevent it
I super glued them together
As tightly as I could
But closed hands aren't good for much
I wonder if the people
I pursue can taste you
On my tongue when I kiss them
I keep you in my mouth
Even if the sweetness is gone
I don't want to erase you
Completely
You are fading like the end credits of a movie
I have watched too many times
I am trying to change the plot
But I know that it cannot be done
And realistically
You have been away
For quite a while now
I would ask you to stay
But my mind has already shown you the exit
Most of you
Has already left me
And tonight I am wondering
If someday the rest
Will leave too
Tonight I am hoping
That if it does,
It won't be anytime soon.
Dec 9, 2014
Dec 9, 2014 at 5:16 PM UTC
Here,
i am slowly learning
that i am slightly more deserving
than what i’ve been given in my past
I am always on the right track
onto the next practical coordinates
and i no longer believe in crossing paths
i am a believer in destinations
that is the confidence and pride speaking
when i plan the journey ahead
i am good with direction
not hindered by crossed roads
not the path less travelled or the path created
i am not on your maps
distance is what i have asked for
time and time again i have fallen from a cross road
i am where you cannot find me
you can’t find something you can’t recognize
here at a dead end and still continuing
i am not on any path, but I am
Here
Oct 24, 2016
Oct 24, 2016 at 9:28 PM UTC
I endured spiritual time dilation in life's stasis field,
held to a course you unwittingly set for us 40 years ago.
Back then, I knew instictively you were my beacon,
never doubted I should follow blindly, without question,
even when I lost sight and only drifted the cosmos,
always the gyroscope spinning in my head
whispered, She's still out there, leading.
So, I absorbed whatever light filtered in,
performing some manner of karmic photosynthesis,
noxious vapors escaping, replaced by vital oxygen,
a mere algae amongst humanities' phytoplankton.
And when the time-space coordinates aligned,
you re-materialized, as you'd always been there,
my sister, my spirit-guide, my love.
Jun 4, 2012
Jun 4, 2012 at 2:49 AM UTC
I just want to feel closure
I want her to close the gap that separates us from getting closer
But there’s canyons of trust issues that become the biggest issue we face
Echoes from past relations along with your unfaithful accusations which leaves us in this abundance of confrontation
But I only wanted to feel closure
I just wanted her to come closer
I'm not trying to fast forward time it’s just life is short so I'm sitting here just trying to pray and debate these feelings
Because I ****** up and caught feelings for her
It was her eyes that caught my eye
The first night she laid her head on my chest and cried because yet another guy got into her mind
Now I’m sitting here with your head on my chest
My shirt drench with a mixture of her sweet aroma and tears realizing I'm just the guy she runs to when some other man runs from her
Thinking maybe it’s my status
Maybe the latitude of my reputation doesn't meet the longitude of her popularity which is why the coordinates of us being together cannot be found on this map of love
But I guess I'm just not high enough to fly with your social standards
It seems like she can't really grasp the thought of a good man
She just wants to exhale the good feelings and inhale the countless amount of pain and strain from ******* guys as her lungs become black holes due to the many hoes she's been replaced by
But if he cheated on his previous boo with you then who the hell said you wouldn't be victim number two?
See I was a little too late
Fate wasn't on my side as I was in a race not even knowing it and I lost because I tried to be a gentlemen and give her something she wasn’t used to but she refused me as she returned to what she was used to
She just wasn't used to me
But she always said she was waiting on her Superman not realizing she’s been passing up Clark Kent every day
And I wasn't going to contemplate with the thought that I should change my ways just to get her
Because I know that even if I get her I'll already be tired of her because I've used all my energy just to get her
Running Boston marathons and getting bombed by my competition just for her attention
I was tired of hearing your voice miles away I wanted it to come closer and reveal your tender exposure
I just wanted your closure
I wanted your presence closer
I had your friendship now I just wanted to feel the whole experience
I was tired of your friend zone
I was tired of working your part time position
I was tired of only feeling closure from you when you needed someone to be close to you
It wasn't even me you wanted you only thirsted for the essence of a human touch
It’s like you used me
But on some real ****
I really just wanted some real ****
I just wanted some closure
I wanted to feel her closer
I wanted her mind body and soul to come closer to me
May 31, 2015
May 31, 2015 at 11:32 PM UTC
This is turning out to be a sundry thing
Oddball bowties and impurities
Fruits of our labor no, vegetables of lethargy
We are always one of a kind
Listen to our veracious lies
Once in a blue we let them out
Nobody can know, everybody will know our name
Why do I always feel bad? I know I shouldn’t feel bad
I should be grateful for the rain
It’s all upside down, but I’ll be fine
I’ll take my time, I can find a way someday
It’s all right side up, I’ve had enough
Life is rough, what can I say?
Is it weird to desire change?
The sudden urge to rearrange
To color outside the laid down lines
I’m not saying to start all over
Or to tear down and build a new
I just need something different to do
Nothing to run from, there’s nothing to run from here
I must of imagined, guess I just imagined
Apologies my darling dear
We’re all glistening, with our sweat
Let’s make a bet, the stakes are set, soaring
They’re all listening, but you’re not yet
You’re in my bed, snoring
The world will always spin, so just tell me where and when
Play it cool and lay low, give me the coordinates then we’ll go
Mar 21, 2014
Mar 21, 2014 at 6:32 PM UTC
i
She isn't thy average
Typical being;
She sit's upon a loft
Only made for a queen.
ii
Her bedstead is mine
We shareth ourn pillow;
I've never been so happy
Her love, pure as a meadow.
iii
A battlement coordinates
Wherein we shalt be protected;
She's spiritually awoken me
Hari and his reyna, ressurected.
iv
I shalt beget her, from her painful sleep
Now she's awoken, her face none more weep's;
Other's shalt Bestir us, from what they can't get
Though we shalt prevail, with love, forgiveness, them to forget.
v
Brigandine silver, shalt dress me in battle
For If beast's cometh close to mine queen, their boot's shalt rattle;
A Gilbertese I wilt carry, known as a shark tooth weapon
Mine Filipino empress is mine all, no faltering, none question's.
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane dedication/Filipino rose......
Aug 10, 2015
Aug 10, 2015 at 10:16 AM UTC
Some say there is nothing more beautiful than the sunrise, and how the sun's lips lightly spin over the face of the earth and bathe it in soft colors, a gentle reminder that the darkness is over.
Some say there is nothing more beautiful than the ocean, because no matter how far they're swept away, the waves always find their way back home to shore, healing it over and over again.
Some say there is nothing more beautiful than galaxies, and how no star tries to outshine the other, every form simply coexisting in a dance of unnamed colors; in space even death is a sight to behold, a firework display of moondust and leftover breath from the mouth of God.
Yet I have to disagree, for I have never before seen anything as beautiful as love in its purest form--- conquering death, every sliver of fear, every earthshaking storm.
For loving you is sunrise, we have seen each other's midnight yet still we choose to forgive, knowing that when light breaks it covers even the places we thought were beyond love's relentless reach, and
Loving you is oceans of pushing and pulling, hurting and healing, but we have promised to be there through high tides and low tides, because I know your moon will always draw you home to me, and lastly,
Loving you is galaxies. I have never before felt anything so alive, so vast that even after claiming we know all the coordinates and all the corners of our maps, we still are only brushing the surface of our solar systems, and there are still so many colors, so many flames, so many meteorites we still haven't named, but that's okay because loving you
is only the beginning. Thank you for choosing my hand for yours to hold on this crazy, everlasting journey and maybe one day we'll find the right words to compare what loving you is like, even if we both know there aren't any. Oh, there aren't any.
Jun 22, 2015
Jun 22, 2015 at 11:40 AM UTC
Who's that leopard in ecstasy
(and Ampersand Cornelius Gray)
who learned to trot briskly under lamp poles
and rescue a ***** worn mug from the clay
that which bore them.
She signaled with a passing glance that the entrenchment should pass,
giggling eyes that sparkled from pearls and concrete teeth.
I pivoted on the unmoving coordinates, the universe revolved.
From within her a spirit rose up and clasped my face in its hands,
and I, red with terror, dove head first towards the sands.
He howls out, burdened.
He is unaware of my condition, beneath the waters;
here I lie in wait,
too, in weight.
Here I lie
beneath the crushing force of the universe.
On the bottom of the sea, the top of the Earth,
a smokestack, of golden flames, fills my heart,
rumbling, confident and unafraid.
The Leopard sits, its paws splayed out on a bed of ferns.
Upon its raised position, it lies, basked in ethereal warm light.
The fierce awe of strength and knives of metal,
racing above ground on knees of silent, yellowed corduroy.
Who waits with the Leopard, alone and cold?
Who knows the beast the captures my wonder?
Here I lie, in servitude, enslaved in my claw cave.
My paws are pale, in this oddly worn nave.
Apr 29, 2013
Apr 29, 2013 at 4:17 PM UTC
i am from the west coast of california and the east coast of maharastra,
from the suburban houses of tracy and the village bungalows of jandu singha, from golden gate drive and marine drive.
i am from the united states public education system and the indian caste system. i am from the land of opportunities and the byproduct of two different american dreams.
i am from places i didn't choose and places i will never completely be able to leave. i am from the coordinates tattooed on my right arm, the hills with the prettiest sunsets in the whole world, from the love of a man with rigid principles and a woman who broke all the rules. i am from a culture that says i shouldn't but a mindset that says i will.
Sep 21, 2016
Sep 21, 2016 at 2:55 AM UTC
If I lay on that big, white bed for along time,
will you help me find my Father?
If I put tubes in my arm
and didn't eat for a week,
would you show me where he is?
Will the robot standing next to my head feed me
coordinates through rhythmic beeps and blips and red flashing lights?
I will do that.
I will shrink in my bed
and let my hair shed off like snake skin
and let my skin wrinkle like I had been in the bath tub for too long
and leave the windows wide open so my children can watch.
My lungs will burn out
and you'll put a mask on my face
and add one more tube to the collection
in the crook of my elbow,
adding more weight
as I lose mass
just like my Father.
And after countless times of being told,
"You have his smile,"
I will truly know what they meant
when my lips become sandpaper
and my tongue becomes parchment
and my teeth hollow out in gradients of pale moon yellow.
The iron from my blood
will add zest to every wheezing hack
and trickle down my throat like the morning dew
watering the growing weeds in my lungs.
I will do nothing but blink my crusting, glazed eyes
when my family cries at my bedside.
I will not flinch as their shouted cries echo the hallway
or look up as they throw their hands to the sky,
begging to a name I had long turned away from.
Would I find my Father if the flesh of my cheeks sunk into its bones
and my face was contoured by the ugly shadows in its
every crevice?
Even then, I would not find my Father.
I would not find my Father
until the white coats stand over my bed,
prodding me with pens and magnifying glasses and stinging needles,
and finally tell my family there is no chance.
I would nto be my Father until I refuse to cry
or scream
or become angered
or say goodbye.
I will be relieved that after countless months of being dead,
they finally declare my pulse gone.
Jun 3, 2014
Jun 3, 2014 at 10:41 AM UTC
When I came to, it was already too late.
Tumbling at the speed of sound and pointed
at the only thing I ever cared about.
Home.
Readjusting and stabilizing
the shot towards earth,
I remembered what was packed tight
in the cargo hold with the titanium alloy exoskeleton.
It was a matter of total energy.
So powerful,
that I used it to come see my home world
even though it was long since abolished.
The destruction was a mystery up until now.
As I hurled towards earth with my incredible dangerous load.
My only hope was that I could come back and save my family.
I would have never considered
that I would be the demise of my entire species,
nonetheless all of the underestimated subspecies that would die too.
"Captain."
The vessels computer was attempting to revive me.
“Impact in thirteen seconds.”
The ship commanded in the most perfect womanly voice.
"Ten."
"Initialize magnetic gyroscopic shielding." I say.
"Nine."
My planets surface was closing in.
I could see the coastline waves
rolling and ebbing with the moon.
"Eight."
At this moment I considered my probable demise.
"Seven."
“Captain, interdimensional equipment
charged and awaiting coordinates.”
She said,
as her other voice commanded,
“Five seconds till impact.”
Collapsible was the style of our Universe.
All I had to do now,
was tap the controls and I would leave the atmosphere instantly,
taking me in between the folds of particles.
The hull was losing integrity as was I.
And on that thought,
I simply pressed the button
and started my return to my lonely place in time.
Alone in the distant future and in the silence of space.
The passing eons of space-time were rattling my very bones.
But I ascended to the very place in time
where I would have been.
And there she was in all her exaltation.
Earth.
Untainted as I once recalled.
That’s when it struck me.
It was only logical that my life had been
looping all these years.
Destroying and saving humanity
all at the same time.
So typically me.
"Computer, set a course for San Francisco."
Dec 6, 2013
Dec 6, 2013 at 6:09 PM UTC
*the ones warring on the flag of defeat can't be called either troll or parasite... too noble such entitlements, they are the **** genus worthy of ignorance, that they are found roaring on the flag of defeat, when such publicity is allowed of public musing deeper than soft-spoken in one's own room, as transcript of thought made public, ironically without one's geographic coordinates... and what lack of honour to be warring with such circumstances being allowed.*
i shouldn't have written my words among poets,
too many simplicities surrounded them,
with the poets came made surrogates,
a stillbirth, if nothing more
9 months of **** as the new economics
that gave us appreciative homosexuality,
a curbing of the expeditions of population
we didn't blame on Chinese or Blue Indians
due to having inherited masochistic Christianity,
the last greek mythology, THE, LAST!
and no more from the greek tongue! no more!
then the second feat of the suffragettes
that became the surrogates...
and yet, i stilled braved to sing
for the escapist tongue of
brotherhood that the misty mountain's cold
encapsulated... in which i braved
the brotherhood, every, second, counter,
to marriage to a woman...
domestication is no adventure! it's no adventure!
there is no fear and sudden death in
domestication... it breeds cattle! readied for
death not ready! *two dungeons deep and caverns old...
the pines were roaring on the hight!
the winds were mourning in the night...
the fire was red it flamed and spread,
the trees like torches, blazed with light.*
this... this is my ideal afterlife! take your Koran
and terrorism and take a **** in the desert with
the cats for worth of knowing such "exquisiteness"
as it might be worth mining in the dunes of sand!
while the thirst of metalloid and abstract horse-tow
gives your false timing...
and when you take this anger written on the flag
of defeat, and turn to warring with it on your own
flag of defeat... you will be conquered,
slain and tortured, as is my promise, always
honourable.
May 12, 2016
May 12, 2016 at 7:36 PM UTC
When east meets west
And black meets white
When bad meets best
And day meets night
When Sad meets Giddy
Up is down
And everyone’s dizzy
Running around
Shock my culture, do it please
This one feels like an old disease
Had it so long, it’s a bore
I wish this culture would transform
I leave in winter
And land in summer
Where every body
Is a different color
My mouth is open
Eyes are wide
My face is saying
“I’m surprised”
Shock my culture, do it please
This one feels like an old disease
I’ve had it so long, it’s a bore
I wish this culture would transform
In another world
Here on earth
No border between
Death and Birth
Coordinates killed
Not sure where I am
And I’m feeling like
A liberated man
Shock my culture, do it please
This one feels like an old disease
Had it so long, it’s a bore
I wish this culture would transform
Nov 27, 2016
Nov 27, 2016 at 12:01 PM UTC
Patterns form across convex corneas
Geometric portraits of tangram animals
Hexagonal-faced lions
Triangular-trunked elephants
etc.
Tessellations of
anagrams
Draped over rods like Batik fabric smoothed over king-sized beds
Calculating Bayesian probability on fingertips
rote
styles
Whispering, "Carry the 1!" to columns of 100s
with a remainder? Try again.
Plot Cartesian coordinates with mechanical pencils
click! click! click!
Crying, "Awwwww.....
you
sunk
my
battleship!"
Mar 3, 2014
Mar 3, 2014 at 11:28 PM UTC
location and destination
undetermined and unknown
cell phone shuts down, battery dead
no one can find me now
I could get lost
hop on a train to Juneau, Alaska if I wanted
nobody would know or realize
vanished from society
the feeling of being completely disconnected
engulfs my soul
location and destination
undetermined and unknown
sounds like an adventure to me
Jul 11, 2013
Jul 11, 2013 at 6:38 PM UTC
my body has become a map
of nights i'd rather not recall
i can't tell you how often i've envisioned
guiding your fingertips along the latitude and longitude,
pointing out the coordinates i'd just plotted-
"remember when you told me i ruined your life?
or when you told me about all the pills you'd swallowed?
or when you told me you'd never be speaking to me again?"
but as your skin brushed against mine
we'd come across paths more tangled than others, and i'd say
"remember when you told me you loved me?
or when you told me i was beautiful?
or when you told me you'd give me the world?"
and you'd get angry when i couldn't explain my own work
now my masterpiece is decaying
and so are my memories of you
sometimes i envision seeing you again
maybe days or weeks or years from now
and when you ask me how i'm doing
i'll guide your fingertips along the (almost) blank canvas
and tell you i've given up cartography
Nov 18, 2013
Nov 18, 2013 at 9:14 PM UTC
Nothing can compare to life when two distincts become one.
One virtue, one goal, and yet, still individual.
Working the gears of objective to make a harmonious sun.
Nothing can compare to love when all the brilliance encourages future.
Two souls akin to burning for ever.
Holding each other in the walks of footsteps embracing "he is mine" and "I'll never lose her".
Nothing can compare to a wild imagination.
One thought that can set the course to death
Created in the depths of loyalty, mistrust, and loss affection.
Nothing can compare to a broken heart
One beat. Slow and still weak
The heart that seems to haunt us forever since emerging from the dark.
Those ripples we create within ourselves track the coordinates of our presence.
Those ripples we may feel. Eternally.
Jan 8, 2014
Jan 8, 2014 at 1:26 PM UTC
Was there a word,
Plain or shimmering,
Cast of gold and mercy,
In the bathing light of forgiveness,
Tempered with down and feather,
Wrought of worthiness and pride,
The mellow flame of tenderness
And shearing morning sun,
One tabulation of saving flesh,
The tapping root of the knowledge
Tree, the forge of stainless metal
And touch, stone direction,
One healing humour, cardinal
As blood, forceful as the salt
Journey bearing the pines
Of lodestar coordinates,
Spotting the Xanadu ex
Of the lost lovers?
Sep 9, 2012
Sep 9, 2012 at 12:28 AM UTC