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"equinoxes" poems
it's 3:23 in the morning and I'm awake because my great great grandchildren won't let me sleep my great great grandchildren ask me in dreams what did you do while the planet was plundered? what did you do when the earth was unraveling? surely you did something when the seasons started failing? as the mammals, reptiles, birds were all dying? did you fill the streets with protest when democracy was stolen? what did you do once you knew? I'm riding home on the Colma train I've got the voice of the milky way in my dreams I have teams of scientists feeding me data daily and pleading I immediately turn it into poetry I want just this consciousness reached by people in range of secret frequencies contained in my speech I am the desirous earth equidistant to the underworld and the flesh of the stars I am everything already lost the moment the universe turns transparent and all the light shoots through the cosmos I use words to instigate silence I'm a hieroglyphic stairway in a buried Mayan city suddenly exposed by a hurricane a satellite circling earth finding dinosaur bones in the Gobi desert I am telescopes that see back in time I am the precession of the equinoxes, the magnetism of the spiraling sea I'm riding home on the Colma train with the voice of the milky way in my dreams I am myths where violets blossom from blood like dying and rising gods I'm the boundary of time soul encountering soul and tongues of fire it's 3:23 in the morning and I can't sleep because my great great grandchildren ask me in dreams what did you do while the earth was unraveling? I want just this consciousness reached by people in range of secret frequencies contained in my speech ©2003
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Aug 25, 2015
Aug 25, 2015 at 6:51 PM UTC
Hieroglyphic Stairway by Drew Dellinger
it's 3:23 in the morning and I'm awake because my great great grandchildren won't let me sleep my great great grandchildren ask me in dreams what did you do while the planet was plundered? what did you do when the earth was unraveling? surely you did something when the seasons started failing? as the mammals, reptiles, birds were all dying? did you fill the streets with protest when democracy was stolen? what did you do once you knew? I'm riding home on the Colma train I've got the voice of the milky way in my dreams I have teams of scientists feeding me data daily and pleading I immediately turn it into poetry I want just this consciousness reached by people in range of secret frequencies contained in my speech I am the desirous earth equidistant to the underworld and the flesh of the stars I am everything already lost the moment the universe turns transparent and all the light shoots through the cosmos I use words to instigate silence I'm a hieroglyphic stairway in a buried Mayan city suddenly exposed by a hurricane a satellite circling earth finding dinosaur bones in the Gobi desert I am telescopes that see back in time I am the precession of the equinoxes, the magnetism of the spiraling sea I'm riding home on the Colma train with the voice of the milky way in my dreams I am myths where violets blossom from blood like dying and rising gods I'm the boundary of time soul encountering soul and tongues of fire it's 3:23 in the morning and I can't sleep because my great great grandchildren ask me in dreams what did you do while the earth was unraveling? I want just this consciousness reached by people in range of secret frequencies contained in my speech ©2003
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caveat! —bursting out as the fuse fetters away wafting t'ward oil spills, tranquilized guns with pace maker minds and time to **** sickle celled, graving shores plead to crawl underground through cascading bile and sedatives that sift through these negatives like bangled thieves who crawl on broken knees and lie idle under haunted bridges. bouldered bones intertwine or veins cut along a dotted line caveat! cries the sayer's sooth, for he says it scours and devours— the slinking nightmare sleuth. the tar is interrupted in carved equinoxes soak in the crippled toxins as the air becomes as thick as theophany and tharm like grease in blood that take me in, through ash and mud and all the spider webs caving in like delicate gorges forges beneath nightmare sleuth reaching zenith caveat, silhouettes stretched out like oil in water and this silicon tomb can hold me no longer for i must break out before i am a goner because it's a mistake that i'll never shake your face turns opaque and there was nothing in your eyes but dripping flesh wring out all your words for me your jeers and your juries but go cling to your crutch your kings and your qualms and the church that burns in its hallow vacancy for none can resist the urge that thieves its delinquents from catatonic catacombs and quagmire junctions where the swamp will **** you in and festering sweat sticks like guilt to your skin and hell is a nightclub where every loss is a life and heaven's a daydream with your neck to the knife it needs no rhyme or reason and every slip of your broken lip just lose your grip and give in to the treason would you rather burn at the stake than suffer your cement heart break with no reason or rhyme it's just the weight of the season backdrop collapse railroads unfolding and like a cell storm the train is coming your way and slinks away like a nightmare sleuth it just takes one swipe of the claw or one bite of the tooth and it drags you in feel the sidewalk sleeping and the blinking lights creeping above the overpass and the cold wind reeling-- it'll be your last.
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Nov 18, 2012
Nov 18, 2012 at 6:36 PM UTC
nightmare sleuth
caveat! —bursting out as the fuse fetters away wafting t'ward oil spills, tranquilized guns with pace maker minds and time to **** sickle celled, graving shores plead to crawl underground through cascading bile and sedatives that sift through these negatives like bangled thieves who crawl on broken knees and lie idle under haunted bridges. bouldered bones intertwine or veins cut along a dotted line caveat! cries the sayer's sooth, for he says it scours and devours— the slinking nightmare sleuth. the tar is interrupted in carved equinoxes soak in the crippled toxins as the air becomes as thick as theophany and tharm like grease in blood that take me in, through ash and mud and all the spider webs caving in like delicate gorges forges beneath nightmare sleuth reaching zenith caveat, silhouettes stretched out like oil in water and this silicon tomb can hold me no longer for i must break out before i am a goner because it's a mistake that i'll never shake your face turns opaque and there was nothing in your eyes but dripping flesh wring out all your words for me your jeers and your juries but go cling to your crutch your kings and your qualms and the church that burns in its hallow vacancy for none can resist the urge that thieves its delinquents from catatonic catacombs and quagmire junctions where the swamp will **** you in and festering sweat sticks like guilt to your skin and hell is a nightclub where every loss is a life and heaven's a daydream with your neck to the knife it needs no rhyme or reason and every slip of your broken lip just lose your grip and give in to the treason would you rather burn at the stake than suffer your cement heart break with no reason or rhyme it's just the weight of the season backdrop collapse railroads unfolding and like a cell storm the train is coming your way and slinks away like a nightmare sleuth it just takes one swipe of the claw or one bite of the tooth and it drags you in feel the sidewalk sleeping and the blinking lights creeping above the overpass and the cold wind reeling-- it'll be your last.
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65
The Sun & Earth 23.5 tilted degrees North Pole & South Pole Equator Tropic of Cancer Tropic of Capricorn and Meridians North/South/East/West Hemispheres Equinoxes Solstices Four seasons Astronomical phenomena Today at where I live—— On northern hemisphere The Garden of Eden A local Home Depot The Sun will directly hit The Tropic of Capricorn giving us the longest night and abandoning the North Pole All it has remembered is the pole on the other end Where penguins, whale seals, and albatrosses will bathe whole day in full brightness at -15 degrees Fahrenheit What a chilling exhilaration! Could I run away from this so called winter solstice this unbearable darkness this senselessness of obscurity and wickedness Could I go to the South Pole and dance with the penguins?
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Dec 25, 2015
Dec 25, 2015 at 8:40 AM UTC
Winter Solstice
Long before Christianity, and, Prehistoric times, in existence that, doesn't flee, celebrated equinoxes, and, the solstices "sacred times" Goddess of Springtime, Ostara, Eostre or Eastre, as referred, Lent her name, you will of heard © 2021 Carol Natasha Diviney
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Apr 4, 2021
Apr 4, 2021 at 4:37 AM UTC
Ostara
Death is subjective. 
Harvests of thought which stir the midnight consolations churn and turn empty capacities. Emotions which awaken yet cease all in the space of 30 spent seconds, little slaughter. Equinoxes sprung and autumnal spines break flooding in a whispered annihilation. Expiration morphs wasteland into sentience as Darkness of a post apocalypse draws and sketches on a spent sheet of paper.
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Jan 26, 2016
Jan 26, 2016 at 5:52 AM UTC
Petite Mort
The procession of the equinoxes Antiquities dealer The unspeakable beauty of the amethyst Gods fingerprints I don't know what I'm doing or where I'm going.......... But that's Okay. Is that what surrendering is? Blending, learning, adapting, evolving, individuation in spite of universal oneness. Being less proud. Happiness. Cinnamon. Cookie cutters from the domain. Keep your herb garden alive. I'm - A fox. El zorro. Le renard. Daily rituals, Water w lemon Apple Green tea face splash A history of happiness Chickens.   Color.    Collage. Yoga.   Art. Cooking. Lists. Recording foods. Evelyn and Alice. Vivid, lurid descriptions. High Gothic and almost steampunk. The weather. Things unspoken that leave huge impacts. Small tokens of love. Repressed emotions. Hx of zodiac. Constantly working for perfection Inner outer Nuts, lemon, lime Keep fire of dreams alive Read read write create read Spells for finance and success Altar space You're alive Preservation of breath Realness if beauty, tranquility Overcoming sorrow Cyclical <i>Les sorts</i> to make them mad, passionate... Charms for living. Perfection. Attraction wealth abundance. Clouds and sky and draping cloth, sandstone and quartz and onyx. An incredible self confidence. Don't waste a minute of you're life on unhappiness. D.I.Y. smudge stick. Driftwood. Feathers. Gemstones. Secrets of a style maniac. Blog. Hidden treasures. Be my mercury, the wings on my feet. Amidst the creaks of old trees and the fallen colored leaves.. I see half the future, gone, cherished and perished The art of self love. Devotion. Organization. Keep calm. Its ok to have secrets. Stories and fables and illustrations to go along. Mix of collage, ink, pastel and watercolor Refine your life like a black and white ink drawing, the fluttering of pen-lined pages like white feathers. Floating on dreams, its fun to let your feet dangle into the blue warm water, be swept away into another world. We try to avoid those moments in life. We plan ahead we keep our toes together and our hair ironed, but one can never totally abate the power of wanton embarrassment or other random outbursts...
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Jan 14, 2016
Jan 14, 2016 at 9:12 PM UTC
The procession of the equinoxes
The procession of the equinoxes Antiquities dealer The unspeakable beauty of the amethyst Gods fingerprints I don't know what I'm doing or where I'm going.......... But that's Okay. Is that what surrendering is? Blending, learning, adapting, evolving, individuation in spite of universal oneness. Being less proud. Happiness. Cinnamon. Cookie cutters from the domain. Keep your herb garden alive. I'm - A fox. El zorro. Le renard. Daily rituals, Water w lemon Apple Green tea face splash A history of happiness Chickens.   Color.    Collage. Yoga.   Art. Cooking. Lists. Recording foods. Evelyn and Alice. Vivid, lurid descriptions. High Gothic and almost steampunk. The weather. Things unspoken that leave huge impacts. Small tokens of love. Repressed emotions. Hx of zodiac. Constantly working for perfection Inner outer Nuts, lemon, lime Keep fire of dreams alive Read read write create read Spells for finance and success Altar space You're alive Preservation of breath Realness if beauty, tranquility Overcoming sorrow Cyclical <i>Les sorts</i> to make them mad, passionate... Charms for living. Perfection. Attraction wealth abundance. Clouds and sky and draping cloth, sandstone and quartz and onyx. An incredible self confidence. Don't waste a minute of you're life on unhappiness. D.I.Y. smudge stick. Driftwood. Feathers. Gemstones. Secrets of a style maniac. Blog. Hidden treasures. Be my mercury, the wings on my feet. Amidst the creaks of old trees and the fallen colored leaves.. I see half the future, gone, cherished and perished The art of self love. Devotion. Organization. Keep calm. Its ok to have secrets. Stories and fables and illustrations to go along. Mix of collage, ink, pastel and watercolor Refine your life like a black and white ink drawing, the fluttering of pen-lined pages like white feathers. Floating on dreams, its fun to let your feet dangle into the blue warm water, be swept away into another world. We try to avoid those moments in life. We plan ahead we keep our toes together and our hair ironed, but one can never totally abate the power of wanton embarrassment or other random outbursts...
Continue reading...
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@--\\------ fragile as a mist over the placid lake of slumber mirror of moonlit ponds mauve mysterious midnight murmuring scented secrets to the sachet skies Sirius spinning subterfuge luminous loquacious liquid light pours roses of glass out of organic orafic edifices equinoxes edifying garish gardens burnt in effigy glass rose thorns broken off shattering into brilliantly scintillating sand SoulSurvivor (C) 1/29/2016
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Jan 28, 2016
Jan 28, 2016 at 10:39 AM UTC
glass rose
Some are fearful of opening boxes closed and sealed long ago, scared of the stream which, freed from its prison of oblivion, may leave them wet of feelings. Some are afraid of solstices and equinoxes, of the time when the sun touches the ground, of the different shades of the nightsky in cyclic and never-ending succession... of the sound of sand against the glass. Like a vessel weathering the rising and falling mountains of a tempestuous sea, whose captain roars, wrathful, though never yearns for blue skies, do not ever shrink back at this metamorphic existence! And you, my friend, oh be brave! Do not cry the losses, not in excess, do not ever feel sorrow for that old past! Live like water, whom gravity forces to sinuously descend, yet it beats all its enemies in the way to the restful sea of joy. But you, oh my friend, be brave! Do not be fearful of change... ...because change is what we call life.
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Apr 24, 2015
Apr 24, 2015 at 1:13 AM UTC
Change
Look at the birds for me. But not the swans. You'd find it too difficult to see me there. So choose the indistinguishable grey silhouette of something else, because that is me to you. I don't expect you to find me in their strength, not in their flight or their grace, but in their movement, they are always moving. Only once did I see one that was still-- with its tiny beak parted and its pretty wings bent-- I pretended it was sleeping. Do that for me, if you want. But remember, as surely as the precession of the equinoxes, the birds come back. Lucky for me, I'm not a bird.
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Oct 22, 2012
Oct 22, 2012 at 6:41 PM UTC
Untitled
But considering Solstices and Equinoxes, Life can be full of paradoxes, The future left in the past, Or time, a function, of dies cast.
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Oct 21, 2013
Oct 21, 2013 at 7:19 AM UTC
Perception.
String of raindrops fall to its quite melody Rhyme with the breeze of a vocal splendor of black daisy To the tune of every bee sip the nectar while accessing the anthers and pistil Made music to a garden of daffodils in April A sharpen affection piercing a stone amethyst Asunder of its composure with a helpless catalyst A scattered pieces spells the truth of an essence is out of worth The antidote of intoxication has been futile a miasma to a path Gaze into a night sky grid-like segments of stars in sight A semblance of a two sign that shines so bright at night Vast Ocean of complicated happiness sinks a deepest peaceful loneliness Wide-ranging terrestrial of verdict congeal with annoyance of fate Precession of equinoxes changed twice a thousand years A tenth cycle in which Pisces and Taurus situate vertigo in twelfth mensis A Supreme Being fills the gap of distant in a long period of time Keep on tenterhooks as the time goes by
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Apr 9, 2015
Apr 9, 2015 at 6:58 AM UTC
A Masquerade of Providence
“I like natural holidays like equinoxes and solstices and moon phases, because they happen even if no one’s there to acknowledge it.” Like the curve of your cheek bracketing a smile and the elongated hum of your first consonant. The gait of us takes a fluid shape and the tiny, joyful bursts of your footfall fill up the quiet between the words we offer. You feel like old tradition and new thought made up to bring the rest of us forward into ourselves.
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Sep 5, 2013
Sep 5, 2013 at 10:25 PM UTC
Niara
But considering Solstices and Equinoxes, Life can be full of paradoxes, The future left in the past, Or time, a function, of dies cast.
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Oct 20, 2013
Oct 20, 2013 at 2:00 AM UTC
And-Row-Me-There.
I dug the holes and covered the acorns with the disembodied spirit of hope Maybe in death life would live I hold on tight to the frozen dawns of winter's demise The days grow in rows of   interpretude Collecting pole dancing soltices and bi-polar equinoxes chardonarily intoxicated in literary analyses from southern France Ah , but those acorns so full of promise Maybe they will oak out and I can someday be the earthern reality infusing the return of spring again
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Jan 9, 2021
Jan 9, 2021 at 7:32 AM UTC
Acorns