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"gravities" poems
perhaps our cause is selfishness, but in the most honest way we say it we do our thoughts are released, and yes, mingle always interjoined, like two separate words sewn together into one we share, and also we justify each other i am selfish, about you i admit, i give in, you are the one to whom i exercise no charity to myself, kept to my breast, melt between into my liquid soul my heart will pillow you with its thrum don't you find it rhythmic? a selfish question: i need you to say 'yes' you are gravity and i slam, hurried, sped through the breath of masses who slip out of sight before even being passed into your body press my face to yours lips tangle in sentences, in action, in smiles, in outright cackling laughter that somehow you find adorable and i say again, i am selfish of you i crave you to myself, all my own, become unto me for i cant do without you now that i have your taste and the same is said for you; from you to me? you need me? you crave me? mind mirrors mind, and you become the meteor? i, your destination i to fold into your soul (gladly gone, meet me there) so we both hold the other in selfishness, no love to share but love to keep and be kept and that is magnitude our gravities combine single form, single line, singular to the last freckle and toe you and I are an Us and we're selfish together because love is need desire selfish want and so, so, so very splendid
0
Oct 12, 2015
Oct 12, 2015 at 6:06 AM UTC
selfishness
I overflow, I absorb, I push, I retreat — and then I pour it out. I gave myself names, So, I took on forms, Types, meanings, Traits I had never worn before — Unlikely mutations. The end was The Beginning of Everything. II I materialized, Threading time and space onto myself. I exploded, Giving birth and dying — In multiverses. III I budded through fractals, Creating illogical gravities. Where there was supposed to be no life — Angular feelings emerged, Flattened stars, Ellipsoidal planets... Until Human Beings appeared. IV Then everything changed. They began to put me in boxes Shouting with anger: “My Faith!” “Your Philosophy!” And yet I am everything: Existence in non-existence, A colorful flash, Undulating silence, A sigh that screams. V Drink me, Eat me piece by piece, Discover me — but don't defend yourself Against denial, Consequences And mistakes When you see a wall in front of you. VI Don't take yourself away — Because YOU ARE Also, in that In which you sink Your Gaze Your Hearing Your Thoughts.
0
Aug 29, 2025
Aug 29, 2025 at 1:33 PM UTC
UNITY
They don't speak, all the long, winding bus journey.  They are strangers, with nothing in common besides the No 50 route and the free travel passes afforded to them on account of their quietly advancing years. She sits in the seat in front of him. Their eyes never lock.  His myopic gaze through thick NHS lenses rests neutral on the back of her head, her softly blue-rinsed curls and the collar of an eminently sensible overcoat. They sit, both silent, as - outside the foggy bus windows - winter has one last chew on time's bony old carcass. She has a slight stoop which she's doing her best to hide, and his shaking hands make his liver spots blur. They stand - the bus stopping at their mutual destination - shuffling sideways into the aisle, and something unexpected happens. The bus jolts suddenly forwards, then lurches to a startled halt, and she falls backwards into his arms and he catches her. For a second, strange gravities assume control. There's a moment, governed by different laws of physics and chemistry and half-forgotten, half-remembered biology. She flushes, infused with something warm and thirst-whettingly girlish, and he surges with a newfound potency, standing taller, the woman he's supporting somehow lessening the burden of his age. Her spine straightens, and she laughs.  His face, smiling, youthens. His hands hold her unstooped shoulders and don't tremble. Sun breaks through cloud outside the window. They remember it's spring out there somewhere.
0
Mar 11, 2016
Mar 11, 2016 at 10:45 AM UTC
Winter Romance
They don't speak, all the long, winding bus journey.  They are strangers, with nothing in common besides the No 50 route and the free travel passes afforded to them on account of their quietly advancing years. She sits in the seat in front of him. Their eyes never lock.  His myopic gaze through thick NHS lenses rests neutral on the back of her head, her softly blue-rinsed curls and the collar of an eminently sensible overcoat. They sit, both silent, as - outside the foggy bus windows - winter has one last chew on time's bony old carcass. She has a slight stoop which she's doing her best to hide, and his shaking hands make his liver spots blur. They stand - the bus stopping at their mutual destination - shuffling sideways into the aisle, and something unexpected happens. The bus jolts suddenly forwards, then lurches to a startled halt, and she falls backwards into his arms and he catches her. For a second, strange gravities assume control. There's a moment, governed by different laws of physics and chemistry and half-forgotten, half-remembered biology. She flushes, infused with something warm and thirst-whettingly girlish, and he surges with a newfound potency, standing taller, the woman he's supporting somehow lessening the burden of his age. Her spine straightens, and she laughs.  His face, smiling, youthens. His hands hold her unstooped shoulders and don't tremble. Sun breaks through cloud outside the window. They remember it's spring out there somewhere.
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48
**A ravaged beauty - long threatened tired life, riding appreciated**   Friday’s  off-road cycle ride started late with a heart-choking chill head-wind blown rain - blurring my glassed vision, so I trusted into the triple lanes of colours slicing through the Vale of Neath.   Here a builder’s ladder jumped boomeranging off it's white van - attempting to decapitate me - behind me it’s miss was announced by squealing brakes and crunching impacts,  scaring alive splattered visions of a flat-end and being posted within a near drain.     Surviving today's devilled ribbon of the dangerous windscreen imprisoned - sitting with pub bound murderous cohorts - I found off-road safe solitude’s mountain bike path East to Coelbren - joining new, a fine yet unsigned cycle route curling around Mynydd y Drum, to open views of Cwm Tawe as I pass hunting twisting through woods a single Red Kite.   Then  gravities speed, circles barriers into Ystradgynlais top - a narrow ribboned descent, hemmed by cars and paved children to the rugby fields. **Senses travelogue - previously un-experienced, time spins slower** Here the trails old section points to Swansea - winding lost betwixt fields, paths, trees and roads to Cwmtawe Cycleway proper, there to pedal beside and across Afon Tawe with repeated special offers of  child saddled exhaust roaring  kamikazes, bicycle maiming broken glass, proudly owned attack dogs, branch hung ball-sacks of excrement, visions of the lost ripped-away steel gated stops, hacked-off wooden fences and never-there deceitful dreams of red doggy bins all disguised what passed for hidden beauty, which he called lovely ugly.    *Backing-into Pontardawe to crawl away below the dark bridge, past a single inviting  pub - I accompany the Tawe and it's twin a decrepit polished canal through ***** alleys - until our hero stutters, gapes then tunnels under great noisious noxious ribbons of hurtling tired....* **Pressured paced life - impossible  commitments, Living organic** .
0
May 1, 2010
May 1, 2010 at 9:37 AM UTC
Cwm Tawe - lovely ugly
**A ravaged beauty - long threatened tired life, riding appreciated**   Friday’s  off-road cycle ride started late with a heart-choking chill head-wind blown rain - blurring my glassed vision, so I trusted into the triple lanes of colours slicing through the Vale of Neath.   Here a builder’s ladder jumped boomeranging off it's white van - attempting to decapitate me - behind me it’s miss was announced by squealing brakes and crunching impacts,  scaring alive splattered visions of a flat-end and being posted within a near drain.     Surviving today's devilled ribbon of the dangerous windscreen imprisoned - sitting with pub bound murderous cohorts - I found off-road safe solitude’s mountain bike path East to Coelbren - joining new, a fine yet unsigned cycle route curling around Mynydd y Drum, to open views of Cwm Tawe as I pass hunting twisting through woods a single Red Kite.   Then  gravities speed, circles barriers into Ystradgynlais top - a narrow ribboned descent, hemmed by cars and paved children to the rugby fields. **Senses travelogue - previously un-experienced, time spins slower** Here the trails old section points to Swansea - winding lost betwixt fields, paths, trees and roads to Cwmtawe Cycleway proper, there to pedal beside and across Afon Tawe with repeated special offers of  child saddled exhaust roaring  kamikazes, bicycle maiming broken glass, proudly owned attack dogs, branch hung ball-sacks of excrement, visions of the lost ripped-away steel gated stops, hacked-off wooden fences and never-there deceitful dreams of red doggy bins all disguised what passed for hidden beauty, which he called lovely ugly.    *Backing-into Pontardawe to crawl away below the dark bridge, past a single inviting  pub - I accompany the Tawe and it's twin a decrepit polished canal through ***** alleys - until our hero stutters, gapes then tunnels under great noisious noxious ribbons of hurtling tired....* **Pressured paced life - impossible  commitments, Living organic** .
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15
Sudden discovery, a small deviation. If only it wasn't him - drawing me in. Deceived of weightless conditions   I found myself to be gravities victim. Due the laws of universal attraction within my orbit his force was in effect. Falling for him never was inhibitable, therefore I fell and dissolved to dark matter
0
Jan 13, 2023
Jan 13, 2023 at 1:34 AM UTC
The physicist
**A ravaged beauty - long threatened tired life, riding appreciated   Friday’s  off-road cycle ride started late with a heart-choking chill head-wind blown rain - blurring my glassed vision, so I trusted into the triple lanes of colours slicing through the Vale of Neath.   Here a builder’s ladder jumped boomeranging off it's white van - attempting to decapitate me - behind me it’s miss was announced by squealing brakes and crunching impacts,  scaring alive splattered visions of a flat-end and being posted within a near drain.     Surviving today's devilled ribbon of the dangerous windscreen imprisoned - sitting with pub bound murderous cohorts - I found off-road safe solitude’s mountain bike path East to Coelbren - joining new, a fine yet unsigned cycle route curling around Mynydd y Drum, to open views of Cwm Tawe as I pass hunting twisting through woods a single Red Kite.   Then  gravities speed, circles barriers into Ystradgynlais top - a narrow ribboned descent, hemmed by cars and paved children to the rugby fields. Senses travelogue - previously un-experienced, time spins slower Here the trails old section points to Swansea - winding lost betwixt fields, paths, trees and roads to Cwmtawe Cycleway proper, there to pedal beside and across Afon Tawe with repeated special offers of  child saddled exhaust roaring  kamikazes, bicycle maiming broken glass, proudly owned attack dogs, branch hung ball-sacks of excrement, visions of the lost ripped-away steel gated stops, hacked-off wooden fences and never-there deceitful dreams of red doggy bins all disguised what passed for hidden beauty, which he called lovely ugly.    Backing-into Pontardawe to crawl away below the dark bridge, past a single inviting  pub - I accompany the Tawe and it's twin a decrepit polished canal through ***** alleys - until our hero stutters, gapes then tunnels under great noisious noxious ribbons of hurtling tired.... Pressured paced life - impossible  commitments, Living organic** .
0
May 6, 2010
May 6, 2010 at 12:54 AM UTC
Cwm Tawe - lovely ugly haibun
**A ravaged beauty - long threatened tired life, riding appreciated   Friday’s  off-road cycle ride started late with a heart-choking chill head-wind blown rain - blurring my glassed vision, so I trusted into the triple lanes of colours slicing through the Vale of Neath.   Here a builder’s ladder jumped boomeranging off it's white van - attempting to decapitate me - behind me it’s miss was announced by squealing brakes and crunching impacts,  scaring alive splattered visions of a flat-end and being posted within a near drain.     Surviving today's devilled ribbon of the dangerous windscreen imprisoned - sitting with pub bound murderous cohorts - I found off-road safe solitude’s mountain bike path East to Coelbren - joining new, a fine yet unsigned cycle route curling around Mynydd y Drum, to open views of Cwm Tawe as I pass hunting twisting through woods a single Red Kite.   Then  gravities speed, circles barriers into Ystradgynlais top - a narrow ribboned descent, hemmed by cars and paved children to the rugby fields. Senses travelogue - previously un-experienced, time spins slower Here the trails old section points to Swansea - winding lost betwixt fields, paths, trees and roads to Cwmtawe Cycleway proper, there to pedal beside and across Afon Tawe with repeated special offers of  child saddled exhaust roaring  kamikazes, bicycle maiming broken glass, proudly owned attack dogs, branch hung ball-sacks of excrement, visions of the lost ripped-away steel gated stops, hacked-off wooden fences and never-there deceitful dreams of red doggy bins all disguised what passed for hidden beauty, which he called lovely ugly.    Backing-into Pontardawe to crawl away below the dark bridge, past a single inviting  pub - I accompany the Tawe and it's twin a decrepit polished canal through ***** alleys - until our hero stutters, gapes then tunnels under great noisious noxious ribbons of hurtling tired.... Pressured paced life - impossible  commitments, Living organic** .
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12
In God’s mind, there was infinity. a slowly whirling, glittering, eternity of terrifying bright night, full of flames that sprinted in ellipses, and marbled floating globes with golden belts of grit and sand all this, tethering His earth with their gravities. In God’s mind, there was a glassy-toothed plesiosaurus, smooth-skinned, dark-eyed, soaring through the airy green deeps. In God’s mind, there was a rumply, wrinkly boulder of an elephant, curling his corrugated trunk shaking his curving tusks. And in God’s mind there was His Child. In God’s mind there were His children: heads, feet, hearts, muscles, nerves, veins, eyes, and hands and mouths. all these. And once upon a time, in God’s mind, there was a small, feathered thing. light-boned and fragile, with a pert, sassy **** to its head-- a daring rascal of a bird! It had a thin, flat tail like a paintbrush, that flicked and bobbed as though held loose in an artist’s indecisive fingers-- As for the feet, their scales were like a lizard’s gray, scalloped ones, fringing eight skinny claws-- such a small bird! And the wings --He smiled-- the wings were the best part, those bronzy-edged feathers, as neatly lapping over each other as shingles on a roof. Ah, yes, in God’s mind there was a sparrow.
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Apr 23, 2013
Apr 23, 2013 at 9:04 PM UTC
In God's Mind
A leaf caught upon a breeze Spinning in one place, As if the earth was Repelling, Shunning, Dancing Upon gravities whims I watch hypnotised by this Dancing leaf,   I asked if in need of help But its words were but silence Spinning, Caressed, Flowing With the delicate movments Granted by the breeze, I stepped closer to see this natures dance And upon silken thread did it hold tight, "Never falling to earth" Hanging, Suspended, Graceful Movements, its time may come to fall But for now it dances upon silken thread Dancing within  the breathe of the gentle breeze.
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Nov 30, 2014
Nov 30, 2014 at 8:59 AM UTC
Leaf Upon Silk
High as I was I took the jump for you And as I did You fell for her too She took her leap But she slipped from your hand Now tell me, darling Where do we land?
0
May 1, 2015
May 1, 2015 at 4:01 AM UTC
Different Gravities
Four paws walk Through veins of My heart with soothing Whispers of love        Two eyes melting All pain away Speaking silently Removing life's  gravities Licks of a warm Pink panting tongue Gently Washing away Stains of the day Waging tail brushing Hope deep into the Recess of my soul no Human can touch Written by E.M.Rushton
0
Aug 3, 2015
Aug 3, 2015 at 4:35 PM UTC
Whispers of love
Into my blood like a poison's sharp bite you rush into me suddenly and your effect excites your presence resonates in me with a musing delight and I give into the death of wanting others, with no fight I succumb to the mysteries in your almond colored eyes I pull you in close to me and hold you tight push your hair back and move past your guise and realize that here with you no rule applies I move into you so close I can feel you breathing so close I find the rhythm to your heart's beating closer still till I feel your blood heaving closer than skin touching and each movement teasing so close but the kiss would be cheating on this anticipation so time stops as I pause an inch away from your lips with a longing hesitation Not ready to end the journey to say I've arrived at a destination not when every hot breath is the perfect flirtation not when the wait puts me into those eyes with fixation not yet when I enjoy so much finding the solutions to our complicated equation but then our lips meet because nothing can stop gravities thrusting and I dive into your warm kiss with a white hot lusting with no restraint I come at you with a craving crushing and I realize with each next kiss that neither of us are rushing and an hour goes by and then it's been two and an entire evening unwinds into just us two and the world is refined to just me and you and each next kiss makes the night glow a golden hue I've no place I want to be but here and my words never seem to make that clear so I'll tell you tonight with every way I keep you near and we will just kiss until the hours all disappear
0
Apr 26, 2012
Apr 26, 2012 at 11:52 AM UTC
TIME SPENT
Into my blood like a poison's sharp bite you rush into me suddenly and your effect excites your presence resonates in me with a musing delight and I give into the death of wanting others, with no fight I succumb to the mysteries in your almond colored eyes I pull you in close to me and hold you tight push your hair back and move past your guise and realize that here with you no rule applies I move into you so close I can feel you breathing so close I find the rhythm to your heart's beating closer still till I feel your blood heaving closer than skin touching and each movement teasing so close but the kiss would be cheating on this anticipation so time stops as I pause an inch away from your lips with a longing hesitation Not ready to end the journey to say I've arrived at a destination not when every hot breath is the perfect flirtation not when the wait puts me into those eyes with fixation not yet when I enjoy so much finding the solutions to our complicated equation but then our lips meet because nothing can stop gravities thrusting and I dive into your warm kiss with a white hot lusting with no restraint I come at you with a craving crushing and I realize with each next kiss that neither of us are rushing and an hour goes by and then it's been two and an entire evening unwinds into just us two and the world is refined to just me and you and each next kiss makes the night glow a golden hue I've no place I want to be but here and my words never seem to make that clear so I'll tell you tonight with every way I keep you near and we will just kiss until the hours all disappear
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32
One eye lined a rippling void in our favor Two lights aimed to dither coherence astray A spark may be one A pyre, another Two methods by which we may aptly narrate These volumes which artifice rendered impassive Some lifetimes ago As if carved out of stone Upon faces that masons could not replicate We taxed ourselves harsh by indulging old spirits But graver the crime was to give them a name The deepest transgression of all, incorporeal Our memories in the end gave us away Yes, nostalgia seeps in through the gaps in our logic To shepherd the currents beneath those blue waves As if tides could be altered by such visitation And oceans stood frozen with forces concealed by Some gravities borne of celestial weight Reluctant to wake and depart Colorado My surrogate mother Our canvas to paint Expressions whipped dry by the skirt of her leather And eardrums wrung pierced by the crags and the scree If I leave now this portal may vanish forever I could leave my sins here in the chill of the Springs Release them down mineshaft chutes long since abandoned In futile attempts to abscond the unclean And rise to leave haunts of offenses unstated To come crawling back from the dead Southbound with me Hold out, I was told With arms to receive You'll make sure to keep your hands steady for me I'm soaked to the core with my soul and voice breaking With eyes for your heart and its formless cascade And my pail with dozens of holes to redeem An abundance of squalls brewed behind both those seams The light crosses your path And you won't look away When I question by which laws such mirrors are made And it all seems so cruel that we're drawn here to suffer To be teased and transfixed by what glimmers remain I can drum up what strengths I have left to ignite you I'll shout even louder when you forget your name I'll relearn every way that I've known how to love you But we're taught to process what we cannot maintain Yes, our hearts are irreparably torn in this way
0
Sep 23, 2016
Sep 23, 2016 at 8:29 PM UTC
Arrivals/Departures
One eye lined a rippling void in our favor Two lights aimed to dither coherence astray A spark may be one A pyre, another Two methods by which we may aptly narrate These volumes which artifice rendered impassive Some lifetimes ago As if carved out of stone Upon faces that masons could not replicate We taxed ourselves harsh by indulging old spirits But graver the crime was to give them a name The deepest transgression of all, incorporeal Our memories in the end gave us away Yes, nostalgia seeps in through the gaps in our logic To shepherd the currents beneath those blue waves As if tides could be altered by such visitation And oceans stood frozen with forces concealed by Some gravities borne of celestial weight Reluctant to wake and depart Colorado My surrogate mother Our canvas to paint Expressions whipped dry by the skirt of her leather And eardrums wrung pierced by the crags and the scree If I leave now this portal may vanish forever I could leave my sins here in the chill of the Springs Release them down mineshaft chutes long since abandoned In futile attempts to abscond the unclean And rise to leave haunts of offenses unstated To come crawling back from the dead Southbound with me Hold out, I was told With arms to receive You'll make sure to keep your hands steady for me I'm soaked to the core with my soul and voice breaking With eyes for your heart and its formless cascade And my pail with dozens of holes to redeem An abundance of squalls brewed behind both those seams The light crosses your path And you won't look away When I question by which laws such mirrors are made And it all seems so cruel that we're drawn here to suffer To be teased and transfixed by what glimmers remain I can drum up what strengths I have left to ignite you I'll shout even louder when you forget your name I'll relearn every way that I've known how to love you But we're taught to process what we cannot maintain Yes, our hearts are irreparably torn in this way
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47
Eyes Reflecting Off The Sides Of The Road, A Frigid Wind Whispers Fate's Secrets, Through The Bare Branched Trees, The Half Moon Hidden Behind Charcoal Clouds, Artificial Lights Try To Lead The Way, The Glow Swallowing The Creatures, Hidden In The Groves, And As Breaks Screech On Death's Pavement, Bodies Collide, One That Is Metal, And One That Is Hide, Blood Trickles From The Corner Of Her Mouth, As She Wobbles Backwards, But She Is Hit Once Again And Thrown, Astray, Useless, A Carcass, Caught In The Arms Of Gravity, On The Frosty Assvault, Eyes Foggy And Lightless, Her Body Lies Cold And Still, Life One Second, Taken Away The Next, A Heart Silent, Lungs Release The Nights Chilled Air, And Another Breath Won't Ever Be Inhaled, In Her Soul She Knew She Didn't Have To Die, But Now She's Free From That Mangled Body, We Put You On Gravities Death Bed Of Gravel But I See You In The Stars
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Oct 28, 2012
Oct 28, 2012 at 1:48 PM UTC
Gravity's Death Bed Of Gravel
tangled in my bed, you’re holding the bits of my smile that i didn’t even know fell out. there, in the the gravities of messy sheets and intimate eye contact, we come upon the part of the story when it reaches a climatic point of dizzying anticipation, the type of expectation that whispers sweetly on my skin as if it had the plot of our collision written on it. here is the precipice of something scary; my tentative hands outstretched— a coincidental incident; your hands reaching back, folding me into your body. everything is the same: the sun still came up to light our faces and this little town hasn’t changed. but everything is different, oh god. the day i sat down in a mostly empty hallway was the day that i realized i am the worst of unintentional catalysts. the blush of borrowed luck stains my knuckles and i clench my fists in hopes that it will stay before i let a safe house like you shelter a storm like me. i’m so afraid of breaking you. i’m afraid of my own vulnerabilities. i’m afraid of letting people into the places where there’s still some wholeness to me. i know—i’m a walking contradiction. touch and go, stay and leave, everything seems to fold. what is that saying. “the best laid plans of mice and men, often go awry”?   never had a plan when it came to things like us but please understand there are certain fragilities i can’t fathom in me and that i’m afraid of my destruction as i am of my own creations.       but for now, this is the first chapter in our book. this is the first day I wake up. this is where we start.
0
Oct 30, 2015
Oct 30, 2015 at 5:51 PM UTC
this is the story of how we were born.
tangled in my bed, you’re holding the bits of my smile that i didn’t even know fell out. there, in the the gravities of messy sheets and intimate eye contact, we come upon the part of the story when it reaches a climatic point of dizzying anticipation, the type of expectation that whispers sweetly on my skin as if it had the plot of our collision written on it. here is the precipice of something scary; my tentative hands outstretched— a coincidental incident; your hands reaching back, folding me into your body. everything is the same: the sun still came up to light our faces and this little town hasn’t changed. but everything is different, oh god. the day i sat down in a mostly empty hallway was the day that i realized i am the worst of unintentional catalysts. the blush of borrowed luck stains my knuckles and i clench my fists in hopes that it will stay before i let a safe house like you shelter a storm like me. i’m so afraid of breaking you. i’m afraid of my own vulnerabilities. i’m afraid of letting people into the places where there’s still some wholeness to me. i know—i’m a walking contradiction. touch and go, stay and leave, everything seems to fold. what is that saying. “the best laid plans of mice and men, often go awry”?   never had a plan when it came to things like us but please understand there are certain fragilities i can’t fathom in me and that i’m afraid of my destruction as i am of my own creations.       but for now, this is the first chapter in our book. this is the first day I wake up. this is where we start.
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28
in the basement where we keep our little gravities- apparently the earth gave way and hell announced a cavity. allow for strange attractors to collapse before they're intimate. and never take the stairs until you've locked the room beneath it. according to the rule there may be echoes from the chamber a misery of wraiths or a raven in the manger. or a hackle of contempt the very air, a shrike of drone. an epistle from a hornet's nest- at the back of our throats. in the very, very quiet where we keep our little maladies- apparently the basement is as good a place as enmity. allow for cain and abel and perhaps you have the half of it, swinging from a hook in every room we've heard it laughing in. according to the rule there may be black so black it's blackening and everywhere the hoards of wane dispel the moon because.
0
Sep 19, 2011
Sep 19, 2011 at 5:24 AM UTC
in the basement where we keep our little gravities
in the basement where we keep our little gravities- apparently the earth gave way and hell announced a cavity. allow for strange attractors to collapse before they're intimate. and never take the stairs until you've locked the room beneath it. according to the rule there may be echoes from the chamber a misery of wraiths or a raven in the manger. or a hackle of contempt the very air, a shrike of drone. an epistle from a hornet's nest- at the back of our throats. in the very, very quiet where we keep our little maladies- apparently the basement is as good a place as enmity. allow for cain and abel and perhaps you have the half of it, swinging from a hook in every room we've heard it laughing in. according to the rule there may be black so black it's blackening and everywhere the hoards of wane dispel the moon because.
0
May 7, 2013
May 7, 2013 at 3:19 AM UTC
In The Basement Where We Keep Our Little Gravities
This arcade of lights opalescent in nature weaving on the fabrics of particles that coalesce in the soup of creation. concepts of reality entwined with in linear moments that have yet to happen, come to pass, that are distant echoes seen. The merry-go-round of galaxies gravities playground, like a slowly draining sink, into the darkness of voids we disappear. When the vacuum of this reality cleans the carpet and all is dark, will it once again regurgitate what was swallowed and start again.
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May 15, 2016
May 15, 2016 at 3:21 PM UTC
Universely Dismantled
theres a juncture a crossroad ask Papa Legba voodoo god doorway to the loa and Baudelaire poet extraordinaire when youthful passions and eroticism are sullied and pretty pretty flies away from years used up and gravities command a slow draying suffocates leaps of consciousness and leaves in its wake belly bloats sagging gut callouses ****** lines slowing metabolism and a host of other accumulated degradations cruel revelations unpeel the chilled soul as the light of the body is eroded by time and the horror of solitude sets in a conjunction of creeps moon and Venus show us new enticements Satan's *** nail an independent morality flowers of evil the eroticism of aesthetic suffering. like idle hands in something filthy to ****** the glistening buttery *** of youth gone by and in its place forbidden undulations of dark dreams and the beauty of ****** horror or what then may i ask the imagine-less drab canvass of the castrated high minded middle class?
0
Mar 5, 2017
Mar 5, 2017 at 6:49 PM UTC
Cross Road
in the basement where we keep our little gravities- apparently the earth gave way and hell announced a cavity. allow for strange attractors to collapse before they're intimate. and never take the stairs until you've locked the room beneath it. according to the rule there may be echoes from the chamber a misery of wraiths or a raven in the manger. or a hackle of contempt the very air, a shrike of drone. an epistle from a hornet's nest- at the back of our throats. in the very, very quiet where we keep our little maladies- apparently the basement is as good a place as enmity. allow for cain and abel and perhaps you have the half of it, swinging from a hook in every room we've heard it laughing in. according to the rule there may be black so black it's blackening and everywhere the hoards of wane dispel the moon because.
0
Oct 6, 2012
Oct 6, 2012 at 3:53 PM UTC
in the basement where we keep our little gravities
I know the fires of the sun Every ray of light life giving Destroys a little more A spark for you would devastate my city Why does passion burn intensely? That my heart would turn to ash Its not what I intend That my heart becomes the coal Fire Fire brings warmth Fire eviscerates I guess its just my fate To be only smoke and memory As the better parts of me Burn away I know the fires of the sun And the bottom of the ocean Both are fools to gravities charms The weight you give me Why does passion reach so fully? That there is no skin I know That isn't marked By your tattooed name Fire My soul and heart on fire Fire is the name I love I'll burn as willing tinder To shed light upon your dreams I only hope you love me As a dream that will never be
0
Jul 20, 2016
Jul 20, 2016 at 5:41 AM UTC
Fire
Were joined to the surface, I wish gravity would release To be free Like birds, Soar free, Glide high, To touch the heavens before me, I am leaving the ground Deserting that which kept me down, Gravity made me a prisoner Held me to the floor, I am free, To arise, To skim, The clouds are my playground I touch the silver lining It is wet to the touch, Freedom like I have never felt Like a bird,  I am of the heavens and sky, But this is but a dream I am gravities prisoner, Joined to the surface, never to be free to fly..
0
Aug 10, 2014
Aug 10, 2014 at 3:15 PM UTC
Gravities Prisoner
If our Universe were laid out flat With many others How would we interact In a beautiful multiverse Maybe the gravities would merge Intertwined in a way Maybe our thoughts of tomorrow Would be there today Would we be a layer In a celestial cake Or a player In a space-ruled game
0
May 21, 2015
May 21, 2015 at 12:30 AM UTC
cake
Bones need not to be ashamed when under florid light’s strict surveillance. Take this as advantage. This means invitation. Dragged you into a terrible work of a labyrinth, anesthetizing your execution, your critical art you had secretly loved and loathed – Sensing out a pattern, your vision as tour: we see nothing but wreckage, heed nothing but lassitude, and when their faultless gravities fall upon, let them interrupt us. When we are broken, repair with beauty all who elude us everywhere: introduce them kintsugi – all these years of specious encounters: I have marks to prove, telling like an alphabet, scattered like punctuation. Bones need not their love for understanding. When spread on a territory, virulent like a makeshift field effect: necessary when transcribed what the utterer resembles an intone of a blatant present: you too mirror my figure. Shatter it when you are done with.
0
Jun 3, 2016
Jun 3, 2016 at 2:07 AM UTC
Predictions
Creation within a galaxian cloud Nebulae entwined molecules unite One new star has taken that first breath today Emotionally raised to the gods Held to the mother by a greater attraction than gravities own A gift of mankind welcomed by this universe Our future and the worlds rely on each child When our children look back, they have seen our future When they look forward, they are our dreams
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Feb 3, 2022
Feb 3, 2022 at 11:44 AM UTC
A child is born
She was the prettiest girl on the playground swing She was eleven I was nine I knew that it was doomed from the beginning Stars in Heaven Misaligned Her pleated skirt-fly defying gravities I was buried by Her tall laugh singing Digging me deeper Years were bigger Steeper back then I wonder where she swings now High and silly-free Or down in the dirt Where I still play Two years behind
0
Apr 10, 2011
Apr 10, 2011 at 10:46 AM UTC
Swing Time