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Ilion gray Jul 2018
If the endless invoked me
”come”
I would leave these days
Without me
the solidarity of hidden deserts
Under unfounded skies
Will still be resting;
If I remain
Amidst the swaying morning
by earth
Inside your space
my hands
Dark as shadows cast
From holes burned
through walls
behind heaven
Eons dripping
billions all at once
Trying to keep every drop of you
In my hands
But you are a quasar
Even breaking atoms
collapsing everything
And lowering yourself
back to earth
Tonight
inches equal aeons
Here in this place
Where no one ever goes
I watch the universe
crush
In my palm
I witness
the strength of megallactic clouds
I am alive
Because I
snatched only the essence of the galaxies
bleeding
your skin is perfect
You having been born of tears
Of the endless face of God
Racing back
Down through
Darkness' unnamed
And unnumbered
Rushing down
Leaving every empty space
Stained with the fingers of your
Flames while you
escape heaven
I will reinforce
Every constellation
Else the ether
could never hold you
for a moment
Your skin was placed
superbly over
bones
and flesh
Veins endless
And all the tender entrails
in its time
Sat suspended
Remember my love Forget
all other things
But this
When your Hours finish
It wont be day
nor December
There won't be rain
And stars will not descend
From the space from which you came
you woke up in childhood
You have learned to dream in mirage of minutes
Be Silent in the shaken shadows
Of hours
just once you were called by the finite
But do not be afraid
My love
Because the caverns of my heart
were forged in the thickest charms
In darkness
Reclusive
In the unchanged
Spaces of gods thought
I'll tell you now
Spill everything
from your fury down
inside me
Because my emptiness can not be filled
when there was a real light
in the days of the day
I sat with the wicked
In kingdoms where light can not pass
In repentance

I will save a calm battle
Until every atomie of my skin has perished
I will rage against the black angels
In the clouds Behind your eyes
Until the ice
Until innocence
When they lay you in the empty space
soon you will be the bones
and the flesh unexcited
The unexpected veins of the earthstar
Your scent goes away from the moon
Your breath on my skin is gravity only you could be born once
as a single kind of dust
drifting with Silence
violently Bubbling
and Spinning-Recklessly
Endlessly
forever
Ilion gray May 2018
I am yours.
To keep
Or ****,
To own
Or burn
Freeze and melt
And drip down into
Earth.. Yours.
         


Until..
nights are dreamless/
the sky loses its mind
Ascends into shadows of cosmos/
     I am Yours-
Still/
      Because when you kiss me
I forget that I am empty,
I forget that I am a drifter,
Into every morning that bears
A
Dying day..

Because when you kiss me,
Perfect Planets arrive,
Quietly
traveling,
transversely,
From the furthest fields of gods face,
Across His most holy ancient eyelids,
Of eons,
Of galaxies,
Out, from relentless darkness,
Your smile Ignites spinning
Stones/
Sets stars aflame,
Pouring down
Crashing through
Each invisible sphere
Breaking
Down
into the firmament,
Then fall onto the Frozen mountaintops,
I watch
Life  
drip,  
subtly
Through gods fist
into the throat of earth..

If you squeeze my heart..
take it...please,
when you stop loving me..
Keep it,
So be it.
Because you rearranged
the notes,
Adjusted the measure
Of its beating
to the symphony
Of you breathing,
arpeggio,
When my soul
was yours..
inside of you)
                
                                         ( in the distance..)
                          (Everything they built was dying)
                        (Clouds were falling down to                            earth)
(could smell seconds burning)
                    (today the world broke)

                         You enter
                             .........

the barred windows and ***** Walls
shatter,
and collapse/
Angels
wrapped in raindrops
came,
rushing down
Through
The Ceiling.

Because I have found you,
I no longer wade in black
       puddles of hours

In you the earth stands still..
        
Only you can make it turn again.

Give me your hand..
though I walk with wild fires,
flames will never reach you,
I will hide you beneath my skin,
in between my bones/
If ever you tire
Of fear..
tire,
of being alone,
For all your prayers
God did not hear..
I will cast a single stone
Up into the endless ever,
then...
Quietly,
wait at his feet
For an answer..
when The gate opens...
Without gesture,
In silence,
Without question-
I would return all of my years to him..
So that you,
could return to heaven.
our hands are like flowers
eaten by a fox
we cut off our clothes
to make room for the world
and disguised our souls in nothing
feelings suspended we rear-ended the world
stood upon bridges waving at girls
shreds of starlight
reflect the falling carriages
sadness and birth are beyond your marriages
same story told throughout the eons
our personal feelings are diluted in the sea
just as we could no longer hold on
our shadows found the ground
and we floated down to safety
Valsa George May 2016
Like a toddler taking maiden steps
The narrow stream moves through the woods
Tripping and falling over pebbles and boulders
Chiming its silver anklets

Forcing itself in irrepressible flow
It thrusts and shoves its way down
Through thickets and a line of ferns
And the tangle of creepers and thorny brambles

Drowning the whisper of bamboo leaves
Its sweet murmur falls in my ears
As an eternal living melody
The cosmic song heard over eons

As the water sluices down the rocks
It becomes a frothing braided torrent
Producing a harsh grating roar
Like the crescendo of a tribal symphony

There it forms into a small pool
With its waves gently rippling
Where birds merrily come to take a dip
And sunning their feathers, fly back refreshed

Sometimes travelling unseen
It suddenly emerges into the open
Cutting its way through cracks and fissures
Never willing to surrender before hurdles

With a bearing immaculate in grace
It sends out waves of pure delight
What joy it is to watch the dilly dally
Of this sedate pilgrim moving to its destination
Sehar Dec 2018
love's a distant relative
dropping in uninvited
murmuring condolences for a girl I thought I buried away
eons ago.
love strikes when you least expect it.
Jeremy Rascon Aug 2016
The endless sorrows,
They sought
and
Found me here,
At what I call home .
When I cannot sleep,
When I cannot dream,
Everything seems wrong.
I glance around and view its truth
I don't belong here I whisper
Take me away I call out
Into the darkness
The windows are tinted from eons of collected dust and dirt,
The low brown light that seeps through sets the tone,
My vision is almost gone,
I wipe and wipe
But the glass is stained.
The entire house is in a similar state.
Echoes speak to me in the hallway
It's not the house that's alive
It's been dead for years
I am trapped in it's carcass
God
If one had a desire to define the word god where would he begin?  Why would he assign the traits he did to the word?  Would he want to assimilate traits that he perceived to be godlike?   Would he obtain a clearer vision in a realization of the futility of aspiration, or would pragmatism and adamant tenaciousness afford him a better route?  Perhaps we all could benefit by a reassessment of our affinity with god.
  
The metaphysical extremities of human nature provide man with a multifaceted image of the possible psychic states of God. Objectivity has led man away from the true nature of his need many times at this point.  Any retrospective analysis of man’s personifications of deity most often leaves one lost in the quandaries of the psychic quagmire.  The weaknesses created by man’s lack of a universally acceptable id conclusion have elevated many philosophical or theocratic hypotheses to the level of demagoguery.

One method which has been used by theologians in attempting to induct a sumerial derivation from the vast warehouse of human religious extrapolation is the concept that perhaps basic truths can be affirmed through the theory of sufficient constancy of conjunction. Which is to say that reasonably analogous conjectures can be found in the depths of religious pervasion.  But this is not strictly true.
  
The ancient Babylonians, like the Indians, were polytheistic. They worshiped gods of nature, tribal union, fertility.  Deifications created from allusion to natural analogies, yet often imbued with a euphemistic optimism.  Where as the pantheon of Grecian deities often seems an almost banal personification of psychological metaphors from the darker side of life.  Zeus a fallibly omnipotent being who pompously subverts all beneath him to his will.  Who along with Apollo and others roam the countryside ****** and adulterating the women of their choice.  And Ares the formidable God of war who’s natural **** for violence leads him and his cohorts to vicarious involvement with mankind’s altercations.

Egyptian theology seems to have been an amendable and progressive state that began with sun worship and gods of nature, and moved on to attempted assimilation of godlike traits through a natural alignment with the perceived nature of God.  There were in depth studies of the nature of time, and life, and notions of existential transcendentalism.  The momentum of this progression led them to the ultimate grandiose delusion in which the Pharaoh was worshiped as the universal supreme being, omniscient and omnipotent ruler of the ultimate utopian society. 
 
The Jews worshiped a God who was at once both a part of them  and an exogenous force believed to have created them in its own image. A God that deliberately instilled an understanding of it’s intended wisdom by instructing them of the laws they were to live by.  These divine revelations were often considered as the unadulterated word of God.  This God was jealous and demanded the adoration due him as the supreme essence.  His worship became the underlying force in their social conjecture as they attempted to inspire his continued grace and benevolence.  A seemingly irrational solution to the quandary of idealism.  An allegiance who’s impetus was unquestionable.  It seems by me to be improperly rooted on a personal level in that it overemphasizes the need or expectation of divine inspiration.

The ancient Chinese social wisdom was by me commendably rational.  Unlike the Jews they do not seem to have overemphasized the expectation of divine inspiration.  Instead they, like the Egyptians emphasized an alignment with the perceived nature of God on a personal level as the way to strength.  They of course had a conception of the possible natures of deity, but considered wisdom to be an honorably truthful self orientation.

Another realm of intellectual extrapolation from which one might hope to surmise a depthfully pervasive generality would be man’s philosophical treatises on the possible natures of God. Unfortunately due to the myriad nature of possibility this again appears paradoxically difficult.  To me this seems to be a product of the nonempirical nature of these conjectures.  Humans experience a reality which does not necessarily  have any relative effect on the transcendence of their conception of the possible nature of God. Although many have attempted to empiricise their conjectures through rational logic they are most often refuted by the possibility of ultimate transcendence or quandrified by the actuality of paradoxical argument.
  
Some good examples of these points are perhaps the arguments of Lucretius who attempted to empiricise that God can not revoke mathematical truths.  But what is the relative reality of those truths to the transcended essence of ultimate beingness.  They are refuted by irrelevance.  Another example might be the statement that God has aseity.  That is if he exists his existence is not caused.  This statement seems easy to refute for the supreme being could be all of the things possible for him except this and have evolved out of eons of cosmic continuum into natural omniscience and or through assimilation of the forces innate to the cosmos have achieved relative omnipotence.
  
One generally accepted statement that is refuted by these arguments is “the cosmos does not have infinite existence and is therefore not the supreme being.”  For if this supreme being has not yet evolved if it’s transcendental form could be said to have become out of cosmic continuum then the cosmos will indeed have achieved infiniteness.  But this already seems intuitively necessary to the ultimate cosmic essence regardless of a lack of self consciousness or even a physical form.  Perhaps what is possible and eons of void are the root of all force and matter, and perhaps this as yet unfulfilled sequence cycles on to nirvana.  Then again perhaps the supreme being does in fact preempt all as a self conscious entity.  This also would seem to be intuitively necessary to the essence of totality which of course has always existed and is in fact the supreme being in at that at that although not necessarily the true form of it’s transcendental being.
  
On this lofty note I would like to reiterate my thesis.  Perhaps we all could benefit from a reassessment of our affinity with God.

A man can accomplish many things with his concept of God. What is extraneous?  Perhaps the question would better be put what is expedient, but that becomes subjective.   You have to define your goals.  Where in lies wisdom?  Can man truly aspire to godhead or is this personally nonproductive?  Man seems to perceive a sort of manifest destiny for himself.  An intrinsic affinity with infiniteness that just must be dealt with.   Perhaps our beliefs in life after death are a grandiose delusion in which we hedonistically waste our time pampering our egos. Which brings me to my third and final argument.

Perhaps conscious regimentation and an affiliation with earth bound logic would bring us closer to our affinity with God.
One of the ideas presented by my philosophical references was that many of mankind’s inspirations to define his affinity with God grew inadvertently out of social realism and the powers assumed. Although often the subjective truths of these understandings went unmentioned out of a desire for objectivity.  For example what God must be if God is to be God.  Perhaps one would do better to relate personally to his affinity with God.

I think this is true.  Although we seem to lack omnipotence we are all individually speaking a preternatural corporeal state.  Perhaps we all should assert our godliness instead of hiding our talents in the sand.  Perhaps then we could construct a contractual reality.  An aspiration to the perfection of the human social mechanic.  I salute this concept.  In fact I firmly believe that by conscribing unalienable rights to our beings we have already performed the rights of the human social mechanic.  Our aspiration to godhead is complete in it’s conjecture.  All that is left is to obtain expedience and accuracy in our amendment toward continued obtainment of the majority goal.
Pantheism's orthogenesis overtures
Payton Hayes Jul 2018
You, earthling, how can you even
begin to attempt to fathom
what it means to live,
when you don’t bother
to attempt to fathom
what it means to love?

I’ve learned over the eons that
it may be air that keeps my lungs
full and my body alive,
but air doesn’t fill my heart
the way love does, and
air doesn’t breathe
life into my soul, the way
loving someone does.
Martin Dove Oct 2018
It’s a peculiar feeling, this sentiment healing
A comforting numbness, that’s freeing my conscience
A fallen angel, rising to the sky
As night falls, we reach for the light
A new child has been born, from eons of the known
The truth that it harbors will free men from hope
That sickening darkness, we tried to forget
It’s seeping right through, the things that we dread
Will we have the courage to stay through the night
To see the cosmic indifference and meaningless of you and I
To stare through the night’s eye and see past the lies?
Truth is all I ask for, though it breeds also lies.
Bijan Rabiee Aug 2018
The essence of love
Runs atop pillars of space
Anticipating to transform
The oblivious by-standers
Into inflicters of righteous pain
The pain that will set free
The reins of resistence,
Foreshadowing portals
Of everlasting beattitude.
The songs have all been sung
Yet not one has been able
To surpass the nightingale's
Who spins the sweetest darkness
Without a tinge of temptation.
The rhythms that fall upon thee
Speak eons of platitude
Of pedestrian coronation
Of revelation devised
Where the upshot is
Synchronized syndrom
That eats away the spirit
Like canker.
The flow of love
Is not a smooth ride
Like a luxury car on open road
Love's code is candor
That suffocates without killing
To reveal the lofty window
Toward unearthly meadows.
Ilion gray Nov 2018
When we fall,
We are not raindrops,
We are the dust of stars,
The puddles we make destroy
The concrete,
And, god does not hear the sound
Of our bones crashing-

Though I knew
you would never be home again,
I knocked on your door for hours/

God,

Was there,
sitting
In the stair well  

But


you were gone.
          
          Three days ago,
I watched
men in black Suits,
lower the expired shell you wore,

down into The parts of earth that never age,

   Still/

I've been calling for days,

      The phone rings-
and rings...

no angel,
has answered.

I imagine
that you are dancing,
Along some coastline eons away,
In a galaxy where
words like,

age-
Weakness-
pain-
And Cancer
Were never spoken-
Where the killers aren't pills,
Because prescriptions are  scarcely  written/
And the Hours  Of delirium,
Can not Wash away clusters of days.

The tragedy of forgetting,
patiently stalks
Memory in the quiet caves;
Where the secret pieces
of us
Are hidden.

  But,

I know what I remember,

Watching your eyes,
empty Their light across the cold ceiling,
                            
reaching,
into The bone white light
Above your hospital bed,
As if your sight,
had legs and feet,
and
you could escape into it,

But,
         that's not what dying is like/

                          I knew you would leave me here/

With all the demons,
their devil fathers,
Their heavy,
*****, Sweating
calloused hands...

Dragging me
out of sight,
Through the raggedy barn doors
Of  aged alder wood
warped
From rain and wind,
And Stained
As perspiring palms
Drip
innocence that is
Black,
And Creeping,
Thick as molasses,
Leaving your body
Escaping, through tiny
clenched openings.

Rolling over the ridges
Then dripping,
from trembling cliffs of fingertips;
Shaken loose at the hinges,
                    *****,

                                Outside of the light;
                     
Down Into their whiskey dreams/
      
           And,

                      I knew you wouldn't say goodbye.

How,  when the worst wind came Roaring,
Angry
and cold-
How, You would just grow old...
                                                          ­                         And die.
KM Hanslik Aug 2018
Today not all of our mistakes are failures
Today I'm closing the door on
the things we keep behind our teeth,
the ways we never learned how to be
soft, but always tried
our best anyway
this is a tribute to the lost sleep
the nights I keep marked in tallies on
my arms, the letters I keep locked up
in a dark drawer,
where maybe something besides moths and regret
will eat away at them.

Today, not all of our thoughts are broken
today you take me out of my skin and I learn how to dance;
the rhythm is choppy but I follow
it anyway, after all we are only testing the waters here
we are only stargazers
awaiting some grand cosmic miracle, we are waiting with our
hands in our pockets for something big to happen,
we are falling in and out of obsession
chasing strangers
around and around in circles,
throwing our
fists in the air claiming "not everything is lost",
slowly coming to the realization that
it's also true not everything is found.

Today you don't know what you're looking for but you can't stop
searching the horizon, like maybe if you peer long enough,
your brain will slow down enough to process
the harsh thump-thump, thump-thump that tells you you're still alive
that tells you you're still here
that tells you you're still waiting

And my fingernails are digging into my palms now from the suspense
of writing and re-writing my name onto fresh pages,
crumpling and collecting them
in the bottom of waste baskets along with
half smoked cigarettes and
last night's rain, because
it is rare that two paths will cross in this world with anything more
than a brief flash of recognition,
it is rare that anything
better can be captured before it slips
down through the cracks;

but that thought was me eons ago
that was me in someone else's skin
today I'm putting nets out to catch the things
we throw around & never keep,
I'm writing your story into my
daily script & keeping a list
of "to-dos" before the big event;

tonight I'm alone and I'm
too busy to look out the window,
maybe the stars will flicker or maybe
they won't, but regardless
I'm still counting my heartbeats to know that I'm here
(still counting my heartbeats to know
the time I have left),
I'm still patching
this wound up with fragments of could have been,
reminding myself that not all
of our hearts are broken, and not all
of our moments are failures.
Martin Dove Oct 2018
I'm not a religious man
but god might be there
Depends on what you mean
and if you think he should care.
I'm not a religious man
But, man, this got me thinking
There really is a sequel
to our life, after it’s ending.

Your life is a wave
Of information and matter
The wave started rising long before
you ever saw your first mother -
I don't believe in reincarnation -
but you are a manifestation of all
past and present influences
past choices and events.
Not just by you. But by eons of elders
that doomed or blessed you to a life of specific circumstance

We are
genetic combinations interacting with nature
A wave. A continuum
Connecting one time to another

LIFE IS LIVING THROUGH US
Now that's a magical feeling.
We are but seasonal leaves on an ever-growing tree
A tree that’s stuck with existing
that's how it's going to be.
This feeling is humbling
Now I can stop mumbling
For now I feel peace
After writing this ****** little piece
Cydney Something Oct 2018
When the carrot finally snaps,
And covers the world in mushrooms,
And the thoughts and dreams of billions cease-

We'll be where that sacred spore takes hold,
Waiting for it to bloom,
Patiently waiting while making love

Sacred spores with sacred purpose!
Find your targets well!
Find us! Find us!
We are fertile soil!

How delicious would it be,
For spore and seed and egg to meet?
A life beginning,
And ending
In one spectacular flash and roar!

****, we'll go down swingin'
To every movement swayin'
Your hips and mine, sweet slammin'
You know what I'm sayin'?

And as the flash and roar subside,
We will be mushrooms
And tar
And ions
And eons
And eons
And eons

We will be gone <3
Dreams
Are euphony
Of thought,
Of heart,
Of body,
Of the splendid,
Of the soul,

(Unbinding our once
Spectral Fates
          That spiraled down
The Keys of Life
Tainted by
The Greatest of Dissonance)

My Redolent Reverie,
Sweetened by
Mellifluous Nectar Tides
Of cherished moments
Steeped for eons
In our
Carnal yearnings
Are made anew
By the Cosmogonist’s Hands
Of Eternity

(O, for I
Doth doven the skies,
That the Incendiary Wings
Of the Auburn Pheonix
Imbue me
With the Souls Acquisition
Of Golden Pinions
                      Of the Thew of Vitality).

Captive visions,
Slumber in
My Azure Dreamer’s Chest
Engraved with
The Insignia of Archaic Fates
Upon it’s
Starry Epidermis
Till skies fall
To the Terrene
And
The Luminaries
Shall rest
Betwixt
The palms of my hands

(O, for then
This Juggernaut of a Man
That I am
Shall Effloresce
Ceasing to be
     That Loveless Sentinel,
The Guardian over
The Bastion Heart
He fathoms
Impregnable)

.Ensorcelled Butterflies
Radiate
Lovelit Lavender Light
Upon that
Astral Parcel,
Lulling my weary eyes
By the
Sovereignty of Monarchial Wings
Vanquishing the doubts
Once blurring
My Kaleidoscopic Dreams
(Life’s Iridescent Seal
Branded upon
My forehead
And etherealizing
My exhalations
                    Till crystalline)

My sullied heart
Pulses shadowed winds
(The Sweeping Gales of Solemnity)
Without the
Blissful Kiss of Cadence
Resonating an
Ebony surge
Deeper,
Than first octave tonality
Of abyssal timbre.

I beseech you,
Unfurl those forested eyes
My Desiderata Materialista,
That I may
Drinketh of your
Emerald Streams,
Ineffably Pristine.

(For then
I shall be
Spirited away
      To Eden,
My existence
     Shall become
Nirvanic Transcendence)

To pine is a pang,
To envisage
Is to breath.

Perhaps that
Is the only solace
My feeble soul
Can bear,
Without you.

By your alabaster skin
Vein my eyes
With luminescence.

With your tender caress
Saunter my
Voracious skin.

Weave my Chrysalis,
By your
Susurrant voice.

Cocoon me
In your
Flawless serenade,
That I metamorphose
Bearing the
Sacrosanct Wings of Phantasmagoria
And
The Melisma of Your Piety.

Pearlescent blood
Floweth within me,
Like baptismal rain,
As I muse
When you alight
Once more
In my Cosmos.

I am yours,
Floral Fallal.

~Our fears are the burdens
    Of the Vestige of the Past,
      A hollow cry
       That fights to exist
         In a zeitgeist
           That flowers
              Quicker than
                Our hearts know how to beat.
                          
                     Unfurl your Gates
                           To the Arbiter of Fates,
                              Unearth the Hallowed Crystals
                                 Of your Garnetiferous Passion
                                    That takes shape
                                        Because you…

                               O, Stalwart Knight,
                                    You were cosmic
                                         Like myriad raindrops,
                                           Mystic echoes
                                              Emancipating­ your spirit
                                                 From the trepidation
                                                     ­    Of the mortal kind.

                                                   Evolve,                                            
                                Evanesce,                       ­   
                                                  For to be Ephemeral                      
                                 ­                Means to conquer                                  
That Magisterial Oblivion.
                                                       ­     Se’lah.~
Hey guys! I've been doing a great deal of experimenting with my writing as of late. This piece is an embodiment of all the introspection, musings, tribulations, and heartbreaks I have experienced as of late. I hope you all can appreciate this piece despite the quasi-obscurant references that I present bereft of explicit detail.

The core of this piece lies in the fundamental nature of our dreams, yearnings, and aspirations (as well as the shadows born of the loveless blight). It effloresced it something much greater as I continued to refine it. Hope you guys like! God bless!
Kris Balubar Oct 2018
SURRENDER YOUR HEART
REMOVE THE GUARDS AND RELINQUISH THEIR SHIELDS.
YOU NEED TO FEEL THIS THOROUGHLY
LOVE WAS NEVER MEANT TO BE SAFE OR MEASURED SO,
LOVE IRRATIONALLY.
JUMP OFF A CLIFF WITHOUT CONSIDERING CONSEQUENCES,
LOVE SPECIFICALLY.
PAY ATTENTION ON THE SMALLER DETAILS OF THE BIGGER PICTURE,
LOVE UNCONDITIONALLY.
BECAUSE THERE WILL BE DAYS WHEN YOU DON’T LIKE HER, BUT THE LOVE MUST REMAIN AND IN THE EVENT THAT LOVE BREAKS YOU, LET IT BREAK.
DO NOT CLOSE YOURSELF OFF OR SHUT YOURSELF DOWN.
YOUR HEART WILL BE SHAPED AND RESHAPED, BUT IN THE END IT WILL STILL BE YOURS.
AS HUMAN WE ARE BLESSED WITH THE SKILL OF ADAPTATION IT’S KEPT US HERE FOR EONS, YOU WILL ADAPT.
Not mine, but I really love this and wants to share it.
xcvii Jan 2016
You see her one day and something's different. Every magazine is full of blank pages. Every billboard is empty. She is the only face you want to see and the only taste you need.

You touch her and her skin is soft like chocolate, but she melts. The verdict? Put away the candy jar. You diet for a year and nothing changes. She's still the only thing you want to make a mess of.

Six years later the realization comes- you were weak and she was there. It was only ever time and space that put you together. You spent every second of the past decade lying her into perfection until you believed every word. But the truth is, you were never happy, and neither was she.

The things that used to remind you of her don't anymore. You've been to New York City half a dozen times since then and never once did you think of her and flinch. Your body has purged her memory and so has your mind. You haven't associated her with Times Square in eons. There's ten years of nothingness between the Tuesday when you saw her and now. But nothing you say could change how that time passed or what it did to you.

And you repeat and repeat,
to yourself this time,
it should've been you.

.
Kitten Yvad Mar 1
I'm in a world where
I’m curled up in your
Raven hair
and I’m free to be here

You’d want to be near me.
You’d stop doing all the
things that scare me and
just hold me
fold me and keep me on your
person

What could be worse
than being eons away
I could have anything at all
and I’d still be cold this way
You could have folded me
And held me on your person
molded me any way you liked
then told me

Raven’s hair in your
Forrested eyes tell me
“you are mine, don’t ask why…
Because the Night
SHELBY MATIAS Jul 2018
She Is Many Universes
Her Soul Spins With The Current Of The Milky Way
Her Mind Intertwines With The Galaxy
She Is Creation Itself
The Voyage To Her World
Has Taken Eons But My Travels
Are Now Over
That Night I Penetrated Through Your Atmosphere
& It's Presence Engulfed Every Layer Of My Being
Wrapping Me In It's Vortex



I Felt The Warmth
Of Your Pink Matter...
A Beautiful Metaphor Of Making Love & It's Long Time Coming
Perry Apr 5
Eons ago, when the stars
where just learning
their place in the sky
A whisper was sent out
crossing over the centuries
I heard it through your eyes
telling me to open mine
and allow those blue swirls
to color paintings in my life
Zowie Georgia May 2014
Love I've not yet met you to the fullest,
to the capacity I know we are
and the understanding that's to come.
But it’s okay,
The timing was wrong,
we had plenty of lives to live,
to experience other loves and the alien times,
to know what we truly want
and recognize ourselves in each other.

Love if we hadn't known such loneliness
how would we truly appreciate what home feels like together,
being in eachother's arms will make all the waiting so much more bearable.
Through the past, lessons learned and the rewards yet to arrive
I will bump into you my Love,
where my dreams and reality collide,
and you will have been looking for me too
for eons,
and I will laugh at my cynicism,
how silly I was,
to believe you didn't exist.

How will I know it is you I hear you say,
My heart will know I’m telling you.
I’m stronger now my heart's softer,
I couldn't possibly not know now.
And how will you know I telepathically ask,
because I already feel you I hear,
How could we not know each other already...

I’ll lose myself in your eyes
distracted by nothing but your next micro-expression,
I will be so full by the ultimate knowing that It’s you,
I've been waiting lifetimes
for your deep brown eyes.

And you’ll know me
how I've always wanted to be known,
wordless or full of them depending on my mood,
you’ll know.
I allow your hands to touch me
without trying to control,
softening more because I'll want you to devour me
and I’ll truly know surrender.

My love,
I know you're there
As I’m here.
Our lives will continue to move in directions
and yes this world is massive
but I'm travelling towards you
just be there waiting to see me.

<3 <3 <3
Lovers meeting through the Ether, already familiar within - bringing the inside into a physical embodiment
zen Sep 2018
Gliding in air
was an eerie delightful hue
hanging high above violet and blue,
for eons no one had knew,
the peon pest probing around
the howling zoo,
rhyming and roaming
hiding and hoping
flighty the ronin
ran,
groping every moment he could come to
as a token to his gallantry
the guidance to his apathy
decided to devise his only strife
to live happily
Ilia Talalai Apr 2016
Let me meet you in a marbled
                                                 field of
                                                           sand...
                                      
                                                               Though
you bewitch me with clifftops hooded in emerald grass ...
                                                 Though
your sheep bleat loudly the marvel of your serenity...
                                   Though
you wait patiently beyond your lonely precipice,

             I cannot endure the eons
                                         raging against the cliffs of your security.

Every
passing year, the thunder of my broken waves
gouges deeper into your wounded coastline.
Every
rock torn from your embrace, resounds the pain of our growing rift
Every
crumbling cliffs edge dissolves the beauty I held in reverie...

                      I wound us in this way.


Let me meet you in a secluded
                                                     gentle
                                                          ­      cove...

There,
    upon quieted sands, my waves will softly ****** your skin.
There,
    the lions will laugh in cacophonous delight at our simple joy.
There,
    our worlds will dance as pebbles tumble into diamond crystals.

There, a child will listen woefully,
                                 the sea song of our love.

With eyes in contented darkness,
         With a soul filled, overflowing
                     With the power of bearing witness
                                                         ­      to this daily wonder.

Each
     breath brings her deeper into the burning core of her mind,
Each
     thought sparks the flame brighter
Each
     billowing blaze will enliven her roots, and
                                                             ­                     she will bloom.
    
      Then,
her eyes will open to a shimmering world,
glistening through tears of quiet understanding.
                     Then,
breath will guide the salt of our dance into her veins
                                  Then,
         she will dance to the song of our world.

With arms wide as eyes,
               she will embrace
                      this treasured moment  
                                 With the divinity of her mortality.

When the moment calms, she will walk solemnly through our shallows.
When my waves pull home at her ankles,
When the crystalline pebble shines brightly in her visage

she will reach with focused surrender through my water for a memento
of the love she feels so presently.

In our slow dance,
of Land and Sea,
               our love bears its fruits in tiny treasures.
In her little pocket,
                             the diamond of our love
will travel further into your heart than my waves ever could.

In this way...
                  you and I grow fonder
                                                             with every passing day.
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