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Feel as tired
As a bird at the edge of space
No mind
No body
No race
I flew to high to hard for to long tell if those should be too's?
brandon nagley Jan 2016
Her orb's
As chandeliers;
In the day's of
Yore, bygone
Year's. Shone
Betwixt, the
Divine clear.
As tis her
Divinity,
Is mine
exosphere.



©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley ( Filipino rose) dedicated
Her orbs- means her eyes .
Yore- means times of past ..or long ago or former times .
Shone. Past tense of shined.
Exosphere means- the outermost region of a planet's atmosphere
~Bardic magistry
Woven unto
Sage & Seeress
Whose vision
Penetrates
The Temporal Expanse.

The Crowned of Epistemology
Reigns sovereign
Unfurled upon the Seven Seas,
The Firmaments,
And The Gaian Mother
Aeonic & venerable:

Dedicated to the
Sagacious, sapient, source of sonority;
Mine Matriarch Mavenette
Wielding wisdom
Pristine, amidst
The Chaos of Chthonic,
At times, adjacent,
NetherRealm:

Valhalla of the once Valiant Soul
Twas I
The Wound-Bearer;
Convalescing in Light
Of the Simulacrum of the Sun,
Until
Greater Eden arrives:

Through lore the soul is lifted unto heights once denied;
The onerous edicts of Gravity begotten to be defied.
We peregrinate this plane searching for Lovelit Life;
We depart in ascendency beckoned by the rapture of the Divine.

No soul knows all, yet by lore, we come to rise, rise
In our excellency sired by the Empyrean Sublime.
By the exhalation of our Exodus we ne’er know how to fly,
Yet the Wings of Phantasmagoria are bestowed upon the Wise.

Let reverie propel you eternally into the Baptistery of the Sun,
for His love is infinite, His light needs ne’er be won.
The Ages are ephemeral & the Zeitgeist like Winds of Time:
Yet the Sciential is forever & wisdom transcends time.

Know that there is more than seen with the eyes;
In this boundless cosmos, precepts are meant to be defied:
Make history therefore of thine bygone days,
For the unborn waxeth thine present: a time-transcending sage.

O, She is the Millennial Maven
Transcending Space & Time
Rising through the Exosphere; Excelling Ether
into Mind’s Fire.

O, She is the Sage of Dreamscapes, Summoning
Luminaries unto Gaia:
That the Wisdom of the Ancients
Illuminate Orbis Terrae.

O, the Impossible is Possible,
Through Amazonians such as thee,
Waging Warfare through Wisdom
That her Clansman might live free.

O, Rapture in a Zephyr
(Aromatic & Fragrant Winds)
She harnesses the Tempest of Futility, that
Ineffable splendor is borne in stead.

O, the Tapestry of Eternity unfolds
(Through the hands of thee)
For through thine counsel are souls made stalwart,
In the Visage of Shadows made to see.

O, been hazed, been dazed
Mine entity hath been flayed,
Until incarnadine raiment arrayed
And through Nox & Somnus, mine heartsease is betrayed.

Lo!  Yet as a wraith in pining
For the Land of Living & Immortal Truth,
O, the Priestess of the Sacrality of Sapience
Doth forge a revenant anew.

O, continue upon thine Pilgrimage
For thine spirit, it gleams:
Upon the Feuillemorte Leaves of Autumn
The Sacred Lotus, impregnable, breathes.

The Hiemal Sun glistens brighter
As discernment and time wax Sovereign Reign; knowledge is
The Diadem of The Epistemic Empress:
  The Monarchy of your claim.

May Splendor and Mercy
Be promised unto thee,
May you promenade life’s trek in credence
That the Wings of Manumission make thee truly free.

If by chance you findeth enfettered
Your soul through sentiments strewn
Wonder upon the liberation
You’ve woven into mind’s renewed.

O, the Soul shall reapeth,
That which it sows,
You’ve harvested the Seeds of Liberty,
Let the Diadem of thine Ascendency thus be made to grow.
May the sacraments
She confers,
Alight upon
Her
Own soul,
May She
effloresce
in the Light of The Empyrean One
Excelsior
Forevermore.

~Happy Holidays Beloved Ones.~

"Therefore, become imitators of God, as beloved children"

-Ephesians 5:1
Janelle Tanguin Jul 2018
what was once a galaxy
has become a minefield
of massive black holes,
and all our rocket ships
have crash landed
without taking us home.

lost dreams of flying,
mechanical wings,
intergalactic suffocation,
stars in glass jars
as souvenirs
just in case we got close
to the moon.

we took off as one,
our faulty parts disintegrating
upon reaching the exosphere.
turbulence, then nothingness,
a lack of closure,
and gravity
working in reverse.
(old previously unpublished drafts making their way here)
Dave Bosworth Apr 2013
ants feel
surprisingly hard
under your
fingertips

© Copyright David Bosworth April 2013
Pining to be loved
I sought asylum within these pages
Every line, every word, every rhyme
Was a reflection of the sorrow that ruminated
Beyond the looking glass.
Yes, I fathomed I was alone without a
Guiding star, without a lodestar to lead the way, O, but now I am liberated
By The Sovereign of Songbirds
Who solaces me by his mellifluous musicality.
(Yes, I am free)

Soaring beneath the stratosphere, thermosphere, mesosphere, and exosphere
I saw all the suffering underneath the sun
And remembered what it was like to slumber.
Rest is something I took for granted
Feeling it was only forged to flee lament; oh, but that is only half the freedom
Of truth: Yes, we are reborn when we slumber.
So lull me and lead the way; furthermore, I am liberated.
The Sovereign of Songbirds enspirits me
By the clairron lullaby, by His voice.
(O, I am free)

Dreaming, I lost sight of all that made me human;
Limitations forgotten, I drifted heavensward. I forsook
All I held beloved.
Why must phantasy mean sacrifice? Must the fantast
Be sundered in order to claim transcendence, ascendence?
Yes, I was burned by The Incendiary Sun but
My heart has survived. It leads the way to liberty.
I am risen by The Sovereign of Songbirds who resurrects me.
I am summoned from the ashes like a Phoenix Rising.
(O, I am free)

(Se’ lah)
Excelsior Forevermore,

Sanders Maurice Foulke III

10/29/2020
Imagine,
Imagine, heaven and earth,
Earth and hell.
Heaven?
It's up there.
Ionosphere, maybe.
Or maybe, Exosphere.
Think of Pangaea and Panthalassa.
Imagine, the lost world of Atlantis.
Geography students would know better.
Imagine,
Imagine good, and bad,
Bad, and worse.
Imagine, if your name were not,
What it is,
Imagine, if you were not,
What you are.
Imagine, delivering fantastic speeches,
Craft out, mesmerising poetries,
Look for topics,
Like you look for alloys,
In your wallet.
Everyone's a poet,
Poet, in their hearts,
They do write poems,
But the designer styli,
Defy to converge their thoughts.
Summarize life,
Felicity, will obviously be wrapped up,
And so will be your bad.
And try, and minimize your bad,
To the least,
Like you do with your savings,
On a rave.
And try, and amplify your bliss,
Like your cells multiply,
In every thirty minutes.
Imagine,
Imagine, and fall.
Fall, for every beautiful face,
Fall, for every beautiful day,
And moment.
Imagine,
And spread love.
Imagine,
Imagine, and fall,
Into an abyss,
Of thoughts,
Every single day,
Every single time.
Imagine,
The bald guy,
On our currency notes,
Smiling, at whatever number there is by him.
Smile, at whatever is given to you,
Smile, for whatever is given to you.
Smile,
And just that.
Sibyl Aug 2015
Our fragile lives mean to exist
To traverse the exosphere;
To reach the sky with all our might,
Fatalities we tear.
We live to save and to redeem
Men from the darkness and their fears.

A gnarly looking metal box
In which each soul must reside
To pierce the heavens up above
With buttons and levers pied.
Collectively sent out to space
As bearers of love and pride.

But still the matter does not change,
That we have been left alone.
Across the emptiness we stride,
And our own souls we hone
To endure each day that passes-
Indeed, our hearts have grown!

And as we propel into space
In these metal inventions,
A trail of steam is left behind
Comprised of our abstractions
Of how our fragile lives exist
For human satisfaction.
It's tough.
Exosphere Jan 2021
the exosphere
is the last bit of matter
the gravity can hold onto
before slipping out into space
alone
it’s the thinnest skin
separating one world
from the void between worlds
it feels like pins and needles
when interplanetary molecules are trapped
and celestial molecules break free
it feels like freedom and death
it feels like waking up
═════════════════════════════════════════════

I love you.

And not just for the overflowing amounts of positive awareness;
not just for the thrilling outer casing of a body, a body I view as now sacred, more than just art.
You are a temple of admiration, and your soul is lucky to make a home within you.
Most would envy you; with your seemingly endless success and compassion, we are one in the same.
We are so much more than our outward appearances, so much more than the tainted and blurred vision of those who are almost permanently scarred, overrun with a jealous mind, and a jealous heart.
Their souls are blinded, caged, and every spot of energy within themselves blocked up with false beliefs.
But we; we are so much more than this. We are obsessed with the love we partake in.
Your touch, I crave. It's as if the energy is literally seeping from the pads of your crafted fingertips into my being.
What drives you is passion. We are so full of it, which is why we are the almost sickeningly perfect match.
My head, my energy, is in the constant state of refusal to reality.
Some may say, my head is stuck in the clouds. But that is an entirely false statement.
My head is caught in the exosphere, facing the Universe with the steadiest of a gaze.
You take me back to the harsh reality, but together we craft it, in seemingly flawless harmony.
My soul faces this lifetime with courage, without a minuscule strand of doubt.
Together, our souls now proclaim a unity, an indistinguishable frequency. Never perfect, but passionate in our vision.
I bid you all the credit, all my love. For you will be my first and only love until  the final hour fate justifies otherwise.

═════════════════════════════════════════════
For Ang <3
g Dec 2015
I keep trying to hold my head high
and forget about you. Forget about
the past. Forget about
everything. But I can’t forget,

and I can’t forgive. All I have left are these
memories of you. I don’t think
I’m doing it right. I don’t think
I’m supposed to smoke this much

or drink this much but it gets me high
and that’s where I want to be
right now. In a way, I guess
I am keeping my head held high.

With drugs. I could float
away in a sea
of cheap bubbly.
I could fly through the sky

with every inhale taking me
further into the exosphere.
My hands are searching for
someone else’s to hold but for now

this bottle will do. My lips are searching for
someone to kiss but for now
this cigarette will do. I keep trying to hold
my head high and forget

about you but all I can do is
remember you in the morning.
Poet X Jul 2019
and if we were in the endless exosphere
i'm sure I would've fallen for you even then,
despite not having gravity.
Ahaha
Cory Williams May 2018
It is said that our sun is the force of life
But I disagree...our nightly counterpart is the usher;
The guide to our show with its soft glow light-

As I lay in the moon garden,
Four o' clocks at ten and Sonata 14
Swaying through a bamboo breeze,
I see with full clarity
The man I will run to in reflections off of the lakes in my eyes-

Salt of the Earth always within my grasp
Grounded by the weight of your gravity,
I long to come to you, you precious thing...

Rocket violators, child's play compared to my dreams,
When I float in the exosphere-
With open arms, like a white climbing rose-
A creeping phlox, my bleeding heart beats soundly.
A heart needs a beat
And heartbeat needs
A word of life called God

This wave of peace
Tells me you can't
Bring them on their knees

All of the differences
Effects of the past
You still make sense to my mind

The celebration of a person
You are the breath in my existence
There is a refreshing feeling of the exosphere exodus

I over 10 feet of the ground
With my pride in my pocket
And my cap snapped back
The smell of sensible dreams
You are the place in the infinite time
And universe
Change the way you sing your pursed lips
Good night
Lexie Oct 2021
Do you change shape to
Slipping through these days
Liquid dreamer
Faulty against lines in the sand
You have eight faces on a round head
Only irony would permit
Octagon facets of your expression
To reflect one another
If the earth could talk
Oh the stories she would spew
Perhaps she is the only true triumphant
Yet we press against her
Resisting the way she would show us
All the love she has given
Yet, race to the moon
Love to the blue stars in the black skies
Will we tarnish them too
When we reach where their light touches
Paying no respects, giving no courtesy
To light beyond our own
We are never satisfied, never happy
With where we are
We hate the journey, fear the end
Desire to burn so bright
Pushing the super in supernova past our thermosphere
When no one in this solar system cares
And as if any creature, animal, or vegetable
In the next solar system can see your flares
When nothing matters
What do you do
How will you burn
When the exosphere will one day pull to earth
Every atom we are composed of splits
Phosphate and nitrogen sin against each other
As if it was their first day in the garden
Knowing, time is our only true forbidden fruit
nVm Aug 18
I've exhausted my concern for her heart's desire.
And indeed, never even once deserved to be an antidote
Nor to be one who would have done that—whatever it was.

I always wondered: What flower will bloom when watered by venomous poison?
Or is the fertilizer the innocent soil of heaven—obtained from angels—or the deceit of the devil?
I tend not to care about her anymore—her utter destruction—even I won't interfere.
Let the false helper, the attention seeker, the remorseless hearted, save her.

The essence of all essence—guessing and surmising—why are you looking for rotten apricots in daylight?
When there's an apple, a sumptuous peach, and a sparkle of pomegranate seeds?
Like a snowy mountain, beautiful yet deadly—would you still climb it?
Even other metaphors could never describe the strangeness of your behavior—your friends, my friends.

Is it any different from digging a hole in the side of a rocky cliff with a pickaxe? No, it isn't.
Always remember that: Forget me.

You always choose to sort out and discard what's right, so that your mistakes will determine the direction of your future decisions.
Get lost—I'll leave you alone until you're truly sorry.
Even until the whisper of that callous is no longer heard in your mind.
This poem is dedicated to someone I once loved very much, although in the end nothing could make her heart turn to me. Thrice I felt the same pain for her. However, maybe this is God's way, the best way in life's scenario.
Inevitable Sep 2023
It's been 10 days since you walked this place.
I tell you the colors are a lot less vibrant now.
I tell you the burnt rubber sent clouds to
the exosphere just to reach you.
I tell you that we are all still waiting to wake up
and I tell you that I love you forevermore.
I can feel your arms around me in my weakest moments... like when the rain fell and
didn't wash this away.
Ever since your lungs took your last breath,
i've been desperately trying to breathe
life into your name.
We are beating on our chest just to
keep our hearts beating.
My eyes have been swollen shut yet I still knew the sun continued to rise and fall.
That hurts most of all.
Wrote 9/20/23  @ItsInevitable229
Like beyond the sky

It's unknown

Why? I ask

Why am I such a mess in front of people? Why am I secluded from society and all its norms?



I understood why I had wanted to die last year

I understood why I feel things

I understood down to the chemicals in the brain why....

Except why does my rational being fear others?

Why is that  humans are the magnet of my disarray?

Like the exosphere it's knowledge obtainable by not man nor woman nor self.
October 10, 2018

I can't fathom why I act so childish in public.

— The End —