"firmaments" poems
Blazing sphere
There you were
Firmaments beneath the earth
Kisses changing into seasons
Melodic
Rhythms of light
Folding all around
Her body
Holding her tight
Contracts of life
Singing Halleluiah
Great souls fill
Her vision
Simply with love
Beneath these clouds
Of happiness
With loving so adorned
Tears of loneliness
Since he went away
Longing for love with him
Beneath these clouds so grey
Her beauty
Doesn’t shine
Like it once had done
Her wings sown the sky
Of blue
On this day of days
Flying to find
Him in the heavens adorned
Beneath the clouds so new!
Debbie Brooks 2014
Dec 20, 2014
Dec 20, 2014 at 2:06 AM UTC
180
As if some little Arctic flower
Upon the polar hem—
Went wandering down the Latitudes
Until it puzzled came
To continents of summer—
To firmaments of sun—
To strange, bright crowds of flowers—
And birds, of foreign tongue!
I say, As if this little flower
To Eden, wandered in—
What then? Why nothing,
Only, your inference therefrom!
3.1k
These are outsiders, always. These stars—
these iron inklings of an Irish January,
whose light happened
thousands of years before
our pain did; they are, they have always been
outside history.
They keep their distance. Under them remains
a place where you found
you were human, and
a landscape in which you know you are mortal.
And a time to choose between them.
I have chosen:
out of myth in history I move to be
part of that ordeal
who darkness is
only now reaching me from those fields,
those rivers, those roads clotted as
firmaments with the dead.
How slowly they die
as we kneel beside them, whisper in their ear.
And we are too late. We are always too late.
2.7k
216
Safe in their Alabaster Chambers—
Untouched my Morning
And untouched by Noon—
Sleep the meek members of the Resurrection—
Rafter of satin,
And Roof of stone.
Light laughs the breeze
In her Castle above them—
Babbles the Bee in a stolid Ear,
Pipe the Sweet Birds in ignorant cadence—
Ah, what sagacity perished here!
version of 1859
Safe in their Alabaster Chambers—
Untouched by Morning—
And untouched by Noon—
Lie the meek members of the Resurrection—
Rafter of Satin—and Roof of Stone!
Grand go the Years—in the Crescent—above them—
Worlds scoop their Arcs—
And Firmaments—row—
Diadems—drop—and Doges—surrender—
Soundless as dots—on a Disc of Snow—
version of 1861
2.5k
An anarchist atom
Assaults the atmosphere
With anger and aerial arson
Bringing, begetting
Brutal and ****** battles
In my brain
Initiating chaos
With charges
Of chemicals.
A disection, distortion
Diversion of dedication
And direction
Causing eruptions
Emissions
Of erratic, electric elements
Of ego.
Ferocious fires form
In filaments, firmaments
Feeding the fantastic
Forces
Which grow and gain
In greatness in gravity
Grave, gory, gorgeous
Gloom.
Henceforth hidden horrors
Harrowed in a hollow heart
Instantly interact with
Intimate ideas
Initiating irregular, irrational
Irreversible
Irrelevant
Intimacy
Jealousy
Jumbling of jinxes
And laws of the jungle
For kicks
Leading to lies
Leaving love for loneliness
Loss.
A massive moral meltdown
In my mind
Negating, neutralising
normality
Orchestrates an open
Onslaught of order
And ordinary
People's principles
To pursue passion
And perfection
In a poetic periphery
Quite queer to some
And quaint to those
Not acquainted with
Rushes of ramblings
Received and reciprocated
Or radical ridicule
Of rascals.
Synapses send,
Signal every sinew
Simulating similar signs
But transmitting treacherous
Tingles
Teasing, trapping thoughts
In terror, temptations
To commit treason
Unforgivable, unforgettable
Us
Vivid and vibrant
But also very
Woeful
Wishing we were wild
And willing to walk
Our wishes make wonderful
Wells of
Youth
And creative zest.
Feb 24, 2013
Feb 24, 2013 at 11:09 AM UTC
All perish whence they quest for immortality,
Such foolish dreams will result in fatality.
Critters struggle in nets of ersatz reality,
Hormonal clashes unbalance our morality.
Under the influence by budding, ravishing thyme,
Oft' that sunny beam leaves me doing pantomime.
Chaste clues and envy droughts left me mellowing,
Such pain ipso facto I can't kiss this porcelain.
My seat of notions drives me to calculate,
While undead, fatigued, I falsely formulate.
Floundering in viscous fluids, I am drowning...
My verdant sail is half-mast: lonely, frowning.
Within moon-lit meadows, shadows flow cursively,
Beyond the kaleidoscope lay a rustic key.
Beg you pardon the rust and blackened fissures,
Pardon those slights to open eternal treasures.
To crave two heart beats align in synchrony,
To sluice my fingers through the strands of memory.
Embracing silvery asps soaring on the breeze,
My sight spies thy adieu and I shatter apiece.
Un-writing errors, distantly, unstumbling,
The abyss: now a star, wings unfurling.
'Tween the heavens fell meteoric golds,
Sinusoidal cascades of such sublime codes.
Traversed steadily upon the gilded firmaments,
Was so small, blind to the unseen monuments.
To be offered aristocratic absolution,
From my humble plebeian resolution.
I am sublime. 'Hold my dichotomous, nay,
Such cantankerous introversion within, eh?
Sep 22, 2010
Sep 22, 2010 at 3:40 PM UTC
It was a fortunate evening
I chose to stroll out. Somewhat cold
and cloying soft for recent rain.
The grass arched speculative at me
the better to see Godot on his way to an appointment.
Just so, the stage light
mixed its ponderous firmaments
to a more even pigment.
I gazed upward at the longing, doleful
eye and felt the monochrome sigh of
that girl who sits upon the air.
She directs her lambent limelight
half-heartedly for she only reads the script by candlelight.
You can see her strolling over gondoliers
or pausing on the running man in a
nineteen-forties travel film with all
the ubiquitous pains of
a villain in a childhood mystery.
A bleating bulb that never burns the eye.
Feb 28, 2010
Feb 28, 2010 at 6:15 PM UTC
when we think idle thoughts and ****** with our mind
we might as well just blandly look into the sky
and absent-mindedly pursue the flights of distant birds
against the matrix of blue firmaments
which seem less infinite than our imaginary universe
trying to look beyond that globe of blue
we venture into depths that really make us think
about the cosmos out in space
infinite stars and planets of unknown identity
we soon become aware
that our idle thoughts are dwarfed
by the immenseness of the space
through which not quite discovered forces
propel our planet with incredible speed
to destinies we do not know
perhaps in order to avoid acknowledgement
of this precarious reality
we fill our lives with more comforting things
fashions wars power games religion money
internet chats with other avatars et cetera
anything to distract us from the contemplation
of insights into how to live
in such a transient indeterminacy
with a determined sense of goal and meaning
think about it
May 4, 2016
May 4, 2016 at 4:40 PM UTC
.
Rain fell in commotions—
The birds would have none of it,
The moon bellowed in ghostly white,
Faced in the sprite, ringing indifference
Of low fading stars, trees in posted dark
Scratched the grasslands of the fallen
Firmaments and the small creatures
That are holed up in days, scurried
With the creep of night and moan
Of oceans slide, mangled clouds
Clutched the murky burn of sky
And smallish eyes everywhen
Shuddered in the frosts
Of a shuttering rose.
.
Oct 31, 2018
Oct 31, 2018 at 5:51 PM UTC
352
Perhaps I asked too large—
I take—no less than skies—
For Earths, grow thick as
Berries, in my native town—
My Basked holds—just—Firmaments—
Those—dangle easy—on my arm,
But smaller bundles—Cram.
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It's hard to know
where to go
from here
empty pages
in my book
unwritten before me
and the vastness of ocean
washes over this desert
blurring the lines
between the
wounds inside
and perceptions
of reality
I am stuck
in this foreign place,
a fine-chiseled limbo
etched upon
my face
My past strong
behind me
pushing my limits
to the hilt
fingers brushing
new firmaments
of grace
spilling silver
from silt
I am ready
to see the future
burst forth and unfold
ready for my
raw elements
to be spun wildly into gold
these invisible wings
after years of
being wound in
tight, rigid curl
are stretching out slowly
being coaxed to unfurl
And here I stand
my feet sturdy as roots
as the sands of time
bud tender shoots
my eyes locked to the stars
fixed in sanguine dream
no need to staunch
the flow
of liquid
that freely streams
It pours out
from my eyes,
this river of salt
because growing pains
sting --
it's nobody's fault
Yet it's
tearing me up
into coarse,
ragged strips
descending
upon me
with scratches and rips
and for every burn
branded into my flesh
new insights
are woven
from putrid
to fresh
For every laceration
I bear upon this heart
there is a gleam in the garden
as seeds germinate
their start
And as my soul opens out
expands in deep
vital glow
I am as
a child
who still needs to grow
Her moonlit eyes
set on
unknown realms
her pillars fallen,
senses overwhelmed
vulnerably jaded,
yet unafraid
because stars
sometimes
burst into
novas
creating
new
light
from
shade
Nov 1, 2016
Nov 1, 2016 at 10:25 AM UTC
.
When your strung hair drops,
In any chamber, all is opened,
All is lithe, flowerfield of mirror
To the gathered stars unto fire,
Below as above is a universe,
Your eyes asking in surrender,
Were never so fair as your face,
My soul drowning in those blue
Orbs, what oceans of sparkle, so
Like jewels in a thousand temple
Reliefs of gold and safire offered
By flesh and thunder, waits to roll,
To wash and crackle firmaments,
Of earthly desires and obsession,
In your temples above and below.
Jul 13, 2015
Jul 13, 2015 at 10:45 PM UTC
Oh, pity, pity him
For whom the universe speaks
Yet only of futility;
Who only sees the second law of thermodynamics
Inexorable –
All suns dying of a slow, slow death,
Then nothingness;
Who sees the nebula only as a splintered sphere
The big bang before its final whimpering!
Oh pity him who cries,
“The world is dew,
And yet…
And yet…”
If all that rules the universe
Is chance, mere chance,
Why sing a lullaby for a new born babe?
Why rage against the dying of the sun?
Oh weep, weep for him
For whom the firmaments proclaim
No god at all,
Not even man!
“The heavens proclaim the glory of God…”
Jul 8, 2013
Jul 8, 2013 at 12:36 PM UTC
Should I love clouds?
But they prevent me
From seeing the sun
I wonder how it'd feel like
To put my hands out
And touch one
Are they soft as cotton candy?
Birds love to dance in them
Or do they disappear at touch?
And fade into thin air?
I wonder what they see
When they look down at me
A heart of opal black
So pale compared to them
I wonder if they mock me
But what right do they have?
They travel on a journey
Of transient tragedy
And since I started writing
The clouds have moved along
They're indistinguishable from each other
Was this the one I saw?
The day is quickly fading
The clouds are not as glowing
The moon waxing and waning
The firmaments fade to black
But what about the sun?
For all its splendour is worth
By day the clouds conceal it
By night it's somewhere else
So, should I love clouds?
But they prevent me
From seeing the sun
Nov 20, 2013
Nov 20, 2013 at 3:53 AM UTC
.
Its form was made for sky,
Reaching into hung heavens.
In the amniotic soils are blood
Veins of bone becoming root.
At the earths breaking is light
Green within the sprouts barking.
To the golden sun on its journey,
The trunks ring into skies praying.
More leaves do come as everlasted
Springs in new revolutions of years.
All the twined branches are knotted
As they grasp the blue firmaments.
And scriptures of heavens proclaim,
Here be journaled leaves, life seeding.
.
Jul 31, 2018
Jul 31, 2018 at 5:34 PM UTC
You sang me many a whimsical sign,
Yet the firmaments my purpose fought,
And now it seems a misled love begot.
Alas, a wilted rose, my beauty be for naught.
Yet now that I profess my heart be thine,
Wilt thou allow thine honesty to falter?
Nay, it be not sanctified by thy Father’s altar,
Thus none could blame thee be defaulter.
So, Wilt thou love me with lips like wine?
I challenge thee to sip as thou art free,
And surely for my form your ***** shall pine.
Prithee boy, Wilt thou instead love me?
Nov 17, 2011
Nov 17, 2011 at 5:20 PM UTC
The day was long and greedily waited,
in near unspoken secret - like a thing
delightfully and enchantingly wicked.
We are reunited - simpatico - my love, lover and I.
We ravish each other and lavish each other
with flattery, endearments and entire pleasure.
We live sweet centuries in those tight hours.
Happiness changes the tenor of things.
Rains of feeling combine in torrents,
like the tinkling notes of a harp make symphony.
Our minutest nerves are instruments of joy.
Mornings start with exquisite excitement and
the dense reel and stagger of intoxication -
because we’re drunk with the fullness of life.
Leaves on trees called chestnut, linden and hazel, stir
gently in the breeze - those faint shoos and rustles, times
nature’s fractal design - blare, in effect, like terrific trumpets.
At night, as we walk together under cooling summer skies,
the stars in the far-flung firmaments, seem to huddle together
and whisper, like sisters, of life and the mysteries of earthy love.
We are the dust of those constellations - are we but spies?
.
.
Songs for this:
Thank You My Angel by Over the Rhine
Perfect Day by Povo
Goodbye Sunday by Everything But the Girl
Aug 31, 2025
Aug 31, 2025 at 12:52 PM UTC
Nocturnal spirits ablaze with the
Mark of the weary. Encased souls,
Comforted by the sounds of her exhales
She reaches for oblivion with outstretched arms
Her minor catastrophes delineate the obvious
But what of love?
Its cold and calculated lies have no place in the night
She thinks
The sparks of the firefly, dance in the firmaments
Ripples of thought plunder the silence of the darkness
She wants to jump in the abyss
A baptism of fire
May 3, 2014
May 3, 2014 at 8:27 AM UTC
She wore endurance as a cloak.
Tried ever so sorely and wrongly,
she committed all to the Vindicator.
In her resolute quietness, she spoke volumes.
For her ardent disparagers,
her payback was tireless hours of intercession.
As she stoically embraced undeserved tribulations,
she gained character, wisdom, and tranquility.
Who dares put out the brilliance of a star?
Her sublimity resonates evermore in the
darkest patch of the night.
Though seared with scars,
her stellar virtues are glaring,
illuminating hearts and inspiring minds.
She can’t feign ordinariness,
even if she hides behind her own shadow.
Detached from a frenzied world,
she derived her essence from heavenly fire.
Oh, had they known the fount from whence she drank,
they would not have, in malignity,
ensnared their own souls
in a bid to put out her luminous radiance.
They have murdered sleep through their ignoble gestures.
Behold the star as she abides in the firmaments!
Purified by the trials and tribulations,
she stoically endures and thrives.
The sky may be bespangled with twinkling stars,
but her brilliance stands out in luminary distinction.
Sep 23, 2020
Sep 23, 2020 at 8:11 PM UTC
Lamentations and a trigger
Questions and closed walls
Loneliness is a dark place to be
When you're a riptide in the sea
We are the hunters and the terror
And we give ourselves away
To every strobe that once brought euphoria
Cascade into the darkness of the day
At gunpoint no lies survive
As they walk the weary wastelands
As you think dog days are over
Knives find peace in hollow hearts
Darts and an anchor
Death by December
Sealed with a kiss and
Promise to deliver
Roses thriving on the remains of the night
Trampled by a stampede of prides
Crags that congregate for catharsis
Fossilised into the ground
Dusk and dawn
Dust and pawns
Lust and taunts
And we give ourselves away
One December morning I found my feet in the deep water
After a storm
As I brewed and brewed trouble
In the form of marble shards
In the innards of a porcelain cup
The holy grail of languor
Skin meets teeth
Placidity greets
Habits die hard
Victims live vicariously
Through rose-tinted glasses
Waiting to be saved
Sinners can't be brave
Like broken ocean waves
The darkest days are over
So rejoice
For the worst is yet to come
But there is silence
Silence in our downfall
Even with nine suns arising
Caressing the canvas that shrouds the clouds
Even as the firmaments fade to black
Sinners can't be brave
Sinners can't be brave
And we need someone to save us all
Save me
Here I lie beneath the rubble
With my mind in a mess
And my heart in a storm
Save me
Before I become brave again
Oct 16, 2015
Oct 16, 2015 at 11:42 PM UTC
eyes fall again as intuitive meteors
and it all heats up at alarming pace
this want grows strong over an ocean
that we just don't account for
you want something
something shocking
and I cannot see why
it's so important now
we gallop together across the moors of our land
never looking back
always forward into the waiting light
shining
shining
you say you love me so much
this reciprocal fount we drink from
unstoppable flow
we are making headway into the night
disregarding the long gone moon
who has tipped over to the other side of the firmaments
silent covenant in confusion
I want you so much
we stroke each other to madness
and whip each other to sweet and high want
you drive your missives very deep into me
you rush along so
I hold you back
I tell you
I want it
slow
very slow
you seem disheartened in the heart of your throb
I hold you tight
I take your hand and lead you back
from easily mired traps
we both know what we want
but time's a hapless passerby on a rickety scale
let's have fun and go slow
Oct 26, 2013
Oct 26, 2013 at 12:16 AM UTC
And if your sun should nightly shine
To kiss my most fervent need
And if fevered hands should suddenly seek
Upon mine; inviolate, to feed
If, hand to hand, we fuel that hidden mouth
Which, cavernous, can never sleep
Who can say what the ending will be
Of things giving birth from the deep
Once-bound of heaven; loosed upon earth
To the uppermost firmaments, it must always escape
The clouds ferry sandpipers day-swift journeys,
While on beaches beneath, the dead birds gape.
Mar 25, 2010
Mar 25, 2010 at 6:42 AM UTC
To watch the clouds roll on the firmaments plain,
Both within, and without, their expression won't wait
Observe sun-lit rain falling all in silkened threads,
Descending to proclaim 'earths rock be thy dream bed'
There water grew static as a new storm of green
An epoch of floral tempests only the sky had then seen
Inspired perhaps by radiations spectroscopic artistries
They desired to wear waves from 495 to 570
What mad dreams the clouds cried out of such passion to be
Miraculous life, the nuclear fruit bore from star to tree
Matter motioned towards conscious devotion to survive
Unconscious becoming conscious predation of others nuclear awareness' to stay just a while consciously alive
Electronivorous cardiomagnetics emanating fields of matter fine
Introspective auric spheres vibrate to harmonies a'chime
Such hearts all a-hum to dimensions they defined
And so from a singularity there would be a beautiful mind
What flowers that bloom on these electric fields,
The art-forms, machinations that matters personal reality yields
Richest pollen for the mind is the written fantasy
Colourful petals formed by guitar pedals is one beings audio-mis en scene
How many depictions for the eyes there are of Venus' divine bodies
No greater art form than complementing aspect, force, and frequency
Oh First Cloud, sailing horizons where one never sees the limitless sky
For there is naught else to compare, no antithesis or edge to help define
We find there forms for pleasure, pain, ideals, but not answers to the neu(t)rons darkest, heaviest dreams
Flung through a universe without Dao, only gravity and dopamine
Matter would politicise, while surfing a rock in a black sea round just one of many long blazing days
Their surfing worlds, mirrors of radiation coursing through an existential void-walled maze
Sep 1, 2014
Sep 1, 2014 at 1:01 AM UTC
*The Moonlit Aethers bleed Titanium Rays
As mine Forlorn Eyes
Saunter thine Porcelain Skin:
Platinum Matriarch upon Swarthy Expanse reigns
Azure Luminaries cascade
Upon The Forested Glades of my Airy Soulwaves.
Ensorcelled is that Sylvan Shrine,
The Reliquary of the Starry Wish.
(O, that
Loveless Blight
might cease)
I Besought the Firmaments
From Dusk to Dawn
Lamenting in Dirge
Of the
Revenant Skies;
Eons transcended yet no hand to hold
The Benediction of Romance
An Ephemeral Throne.
The Pandemonium corporealizes
Wraiths in my mind;
(Perdition is Thew
The
Poltergeist's Might)
Ivory Visage of the Impearled
Hallows my Spirit
Quells the Abyss.
The Thew of Deities
Purged from my veins
Quaking my quintessence,
I fathomed
I was naught.
A mere figment,
An existential vagary:
~BUT NOW I SEE
We are
All
But a
Dream
Clinging yearningly
to the
Promise of Hope
(The Covenant of Ensouled Dust)
Groping for Eternity, Memory, and the Lightwaves
To be
Vested in our pulse;
For Corporeality;
Ascendency
To the Chrysalis of The Astral,
The Cradle of Cosmogenesis:
Our Cosmos,
Our Zephyr,
Our Magma,
Our Torrent,
Our Tremor,
Our Thunderclap,
Our Time,
Our Space,
Our Nexus to Efflorescence,
Our Incorporeal Sublimity~
I shall surrender to
Providence of the Supernal
His Empyrean Wings
(An Impregnable Aegis)
A Strewn Vestige once was I
But the Somnolent Beloved was roused
Whence I glimpsed into thine eyes.
The Vagrant Loveless is resurrected
Reawakened as a Doughty Knight
Warring against sequestration
(Until by Nirvana)
Abeyance devours this blight.
~Dream
You starry-eyed wayfarers,
Surrender sovereignty to credence
When Star-crossed
Conspire against the Fates
For when Elysium
Is your Beloved
The Ancient of Yore
Shall lead you nebulous streams
To the Holy Oracle
Prophesying the fulfillment
Of your Intemerate Hope
(For Love, myriads doven the skies)
Please Believe,
Just,
Believe in me.~*
Nov 21, 2017
Nov 21, 2017 at 3:02 PM UTC