"cyclus" poems
A river, my river, I am the river.
A river, water that goes with the flow.
A river, a calm flow most of the time.
A river, now in a time of life that overflows.
The calm river, gone
not coming back as it was
but as a new river it went somewhere.
An island, a calm place
a stopping point.
The rivers stopping point.
An island, a place to learn
a place to evolve and come back better than ever.
But even an island can’t stop a storm from happening,
emotions from escaping.
A storm, a disoriented place where everything is dark.
A storm, a cry
just a girl.
A person, a safe place until the storm happens.
Even beauty can’t safe the sea.
The sea can never be saved.
It can only safe herself
And after some time
come back anew
as a calm river.
It’s a cyclus, happening over and over again
until the island disappears.
Until it’s fully gone.
But an island never disappears.
it might not be an island anymore
but it’s still there with me every step of the way.
This time it follows the flow,
evolves along the way until I don’t need him any more.
And then I go my own way,
to find that island.
As a calm river, getting ready for the upcoming storm.
As a girl, preparing to hate my mind.
But its nature, its human.
It will happen many times all over again.
And thats alright.
Sep 12, 2025
Sep 12, 2025 at 12:39 AM UTC
I heard that the human body doesn't have one cell the same as seven years before.
Now I'm no biologist, but that would mean I am not the same girl you left ten years ago and there's not a single cell inside of me that you ever got to injure. In all honesty, it's much easier to believe my body is sacred now that I know you never touched it.
Dec 15, 2014
Dec 15, 2014 at 5:11 AM UTC
Sweet beautiful machine behind the woods,
chuckle with tears and carries a barren womb,
"Do you regret the Unlife?". I shouted.
And a soft voice whispered "No".
I have not seen the crows singing to the corn,
I believe in nothing, and nothing at all,
"Do you fear the sky?". I thought.
And a soft voice whispered "No".
Your harmony pleases the pace of the trees,
I have forseen all of this inside of a dream,
"Are you even trying to see me?". I asked.
And a soft voice whispered "No".
Spreading those legs of yours around my neck,
I kiss the cave of wonders as if were a threat,
"Is everything fine, my love?". I licked.
And a soft voice whispered "No".
Aug 25, 2015
Aug 25, 2015 at 1:36 AM UTC
Luna (Latine Lunae) est terrae sola naturalis satellite. [E] [F] [VIII] licet non amet naturalis satellitis in Systemate Solare est, inter satellites maioribus signis maxima quod ad magnitudinem orbes obiecti (primarium) [g] [a] et post Io satellite Jovis, qui est secundus densa inter densitates satellite cognoscuntur.
Luna est in vna *** orbem terrarum, et semper, et faciens facies, *** cis insignis, quae per tenebras inter maria volcanus editis clarus, et veteri crusta impactus crateres prominent. Est enim post solem in coelo et immutari. Quanquam autem id candidissimam, obscurus etiam superficie *** bitumen reflectance fessis tantum leviter superior. Huius temporibus perquam cyclus regularem habere in coelo, quia antiquitus in luna lingua maximus culturae opes, fastos artis fabularis. Producit vim gravitatis luna dies et tempora et levi freta. Nunc de orbita lunae distantia diameter vicibus terra in caelum facit ut fere idem sit qui apparet Solis. Nempe per id fere totum solem lunam eclipsin solis tegere. Hoc simile est de magnitudine visuali fortuitum apparens. Lunaris a terra distantiae lineae sit amet, crescens ad rate of 3,82 ± 0,07 mm per annum, id est, non tamen semper. [IX]
Jul 15, 2014
Jul 15, 2014 at 3:58 PM UTC
It would be nice
to spend a day with you
just sitting on a bench
watching people hurry
to their never-ending-jobs
and telling eachother stories
of how they got stuck
in that never-ending-cyclus
of getting up, work, diner, sleep
Is it nice? Does it fulfill their dreams?
Do they have a great family?
Are they as happy as we are now?
Dec 28, 2013
Dec 28, 2013 at 10:35 AM UTC
i tried to wash my hands
under this infected tap she is
completely empty
i dream often about pool, grandmother,
extending my hands into nothingness
i will scatter the ashes of a spoiled
we over the city that is already full of
senseless lungs, poured glasses and running
eyes i see your set of eyes you possess
a to me bloodshot wisdom i am floor-bound i will whirl in
an ongoing we
i make an incision around my hairline a
perfect cyclus an aureole
take off my skull softly a hat where i
evaporate see an upward heaviness lying here
long lines a violation
i see black regret like poison me as a think-rider jump over another fence become as a talk-shaman to dissect myself
fits me better than to say i am cutting myself it is more like a construction of soft fingertips that slide and slip into holes and
explore embrace self-respecting arms
there are piles of material in this house
my intuition a healing functionality i follow a
method my skull a hat a backpack a shield with which i depart
believe myself to be complete
a true vision
my cracked one, my beautiful one
never finger-pointing
i am castle-like, architectural
i do not become i am i am i am
May 5, 2019
May 5, 2019 at 5:52 PM UTC