Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"cosm" poems
undecipherable loss   • [it's steeper near the roses] attenuation   • [the mystery in the trees   and the mistral sound of your breathing] dreams of perfection: floral dress summer   • [the apnea and the scream] a touch of labyrinth to this world   • [in the fair and harmless light] imagine somewhere close by   • [imagine him waving as you say goodbye]
0
Dec 7, 2022
Dec 7, 2022 at 2:28 PM UTC
Para•cosm
thousand droplets hang from the tip of each bare branch of the ginkgo tree. Each orb holds the world in it like the ornaments that decorate a coniferous cousin, they reflect me and all I see today, a curious blend of grey. Each shed leaf is replaced by a tear too delicate for me to decipher all that it carries. I am too distracted by what I carry to grasp what each holds suspended so perfectly making everything it reflects into a single something solar twinkling, each cosm capturing all in need of being captured. Today I am left with no color. The sky, the trees, the asphalt, and the air I breathe, in their unified beauty say nothing.
0
Sep 17, 2011
Sep 17, 2011 at 6:39 AM UTC
One
Going with the flow Yet you do not know That the flow goes all directions The natural lines that blind your mind These barriers of glass Create channels, rivers, currents Patterns Where the water The flow Simply goes When you are always in the rapids When your point of view is rabid Only reacting Not responding So swept up in the current You flail, flounder, following Helplessly Yet little do you know The flow goes all directions You are never alone You are a node You are the ocean Not a current You are everything You’re worth it You are the moment You are worship You are attention pointed out Barriers are but illusions Your life is lilting, tilting fusions But becoming the ocean is not always easy It’s massive, the motion makes us queasy Most of the time we are in our own streams Funneled by barriers as real as our dreams But funneled nonetheless Carried away The process of growth Is slowly raising yourself out of the stream Slowly Gradually Adding moments of response Instead of reaction In that act We find branches In the stream And therefore choice We can paddle Change our course The world opens up We are not the ocean yet But on our way As you lift yourself higher Out of the stream You do begin to see The flow goes all directions Flowing into the sea Not only are you the ocean But you are every stream You float above this aquatic landscape Coursing rivers like veins across the living earth And, here is the magical part: You can choose where to swim You dive in Headfirst You are birthed This is divinity Infinity Each moment of consciousness A fateful flux Between ocean and stream Between finite and infinite The macrocosm above The microcosm below The cosm in between You are Here Now The barrier between the mundane and the divine The band of fluctuation You are the frame In which This artwork unfolds That is what happens when you can choose When you lift out of the stream On one level, you choose the next moment On another level, you choose any of the infinite realities that your mind can imagine On yet another, you are consciousness, the great ocean of light Choosing which point to dive into the universe Which river to course through To enter a life of conscious experience To sing the body electric Be born and live and die Be born Live Die From ocean to stream and ocean again The stream will be your entire experience While you are underwater But never forget: This is Water David Foster This is Wallace Meditation is learning how to swim To realize this is water And dryness is within Then you learn to rise Float above the water Ascend Transcend Fly So high Then choose your stream Dive in Up and down In and out Like a dolphin merrily moving through the ocean A smiling sine wave Flowing seamlessly, dreamily No wonder they are smiling As free as one can be They are the ocean and the stream A realization that is probably easy When one is born under the sea We are the water in the stream And the sea Stretching across infinity We are the force flowing through the tree Splitting, branching Diverging from the whole But connected at the soul In actuality We are fractality
0
Aug 30, 2020
Aug 30, 2020 at 12:23 PM UTC
The Stream and The Ocean
Going with the flow Yet you do not know That the flow goes all directions The natural lines that blind your mind These barriers of glass Create channels, rivers, currents Patterns Where the water The flow Simply goes When you are always in the rapids When your point of view is rabid Only reacting Not responding So swept up in the current You flail, flounder, following Helplessly Yet little do you know The flow goes all directions You are never alone You are a node You are the ocean Not a current You are everything You’re worth it You are the moment You are worship You are attention pointed out Barriers are but illusions Your life is lilting, tilting fusions But becoming the ocean is not always easy It’s massive, the motion makes us queasy Most of the time we are in our own streams Funneled by barriers as real as our dreams But funneled nonetheless Carried away The process of growth Is slowly raising yourself out of the stream Slowly Gradually Adding moments of response Instead of reaction In that act We find branches In the stream And therefore choice We can paddle Change our course The world opens up We are not the ocean yet But on our way As you lift yourself higher Out of the stream You do begin to see The flow goes all directions Flowing into the sea Not only are you the ocean But you are every stream You float above this aquatic landscape Coursing rivers like veins across the living earth And, here is the magical part: You can choose where to swim You dive in Headfirst You are birthed This is divinity Infinity Each moment of consciousness A fateful flux Between ocean and stream Between finite and infinite The macrocosm above The microcosm below The cosm in between You are Here Now The barrier between the mundane and the divine The band of fluctuation You are the frame In which This artwork unfolds That is what happens when you can choose When you lift out of the stream On one level, you choose the next moment On another level, you choose any of the infinite realities that your mind can imagine On yet another, you are consciousness, the great ocean of light Choosing which point to dive into the universe Which river to course through To enter a life of conscious experience To sing the body electric Be born and live and die Be born Live Die From ocean to stream and ocean again The stream will be your entire experience While you are underwater But never forget: This is Water David Foster This is Wallace Meditation is learning how to swim To realize this is water And dryness is within Then you learn to rise Float above the water Ascend Transcend Fly So high Then choose your stream Dive in Up and down In and out Like a dolphin merrily moving through the ocean A smiling sine wave Flowing seamlessly, dreamily No wonder they are smiling As free as one can be They are the ocean and the stream A realization that is probably easy When one is born under the sea We are the water in the stream And the sea Stretching across infinity We are the force flowing through the tree Splitting, branching Diverging from the whole But connected at the soul In actuality We are fractality
Continue reading...
132
World falls to pieces, some shot and others blasted One stands alone, away from it all: this hot day Jaundice nails disappear— A few gems are pressed Upright. Skin rasps inaudible; tables unturned, and stones too Barbed words blunted, a lonely figure in the light Of ascertained darkness— Sweet **** won't listen Overt. Silent consumption on the remnants another finds use Night brings to life secrets behind the eyelids—tiptoe Calm into your cosm, of bated breath.
0
Jan 24, 2015
Jan 24, 2015 at 7:05 AM UTC
into your cosm
There's an innate feeling of                                                      drift                     that comes with letting go. The space we create for ourselves is, by nature, weightless until we fixate to the points in it which we made to relate to; because love is exactly like gravity, and the points in space are planets and stars, celestial bodies just perfectly warm enough for life to explore, orientations to look up from and see the rest of it, but when we realize who it was wrought the cosm and we wake stupefied and lucid those pieces, seeming both so distant and close, unweave themselves from the fabric and like magic they disappear. Our fists forced gently into grasplessness panic at the lack of that substance our tongues and eyes and right-side-up sensibilities wish so desperately was there from the beginning. We start floating of some unknown accordance, though undoubtedly, deeply our own, towards the next and closest brightest shining source of love.
0
Sep 26, 2014
Sep 26, 2014 at 11:29 PM UTC
Volatile
many of us know this date many of us probably dislike it because... good words, likes and hearts were deleted. so i disliked january 11th until i figured that god (others tend to call it "karma", "fate" or "the cosm") is testing me. every trial strengthens the spirit of a fighter.
0
Jan 26, 2020
Jan 26, 2020 at 5:15 AM UTC
January 11th, 2020
nebulous galaxies                           spiraling forth stars collecting                           in clusters              lost configuring                constellations           in                                                                          space and                 time-                                   travelling    through                         light-years duly                                             revolving,               aligning      with                       the Sun                       and                           the Moon suspended                       in the interstellar
0
Oct 10, 2020
Oct 10, 2020 at 10:55 AM UTC
Cosm