"jovian" poems
You bring me good news from the clinic,
Whipping off your silk scarf, exhibiting the tight white
Mummy-cloths, smiling: I'm all right.
When I was nine, a lime-green anesthetist
Fed me banana-gas through a frog mask. The nauseous vault
Boomed with bad dreams and the Jovian voices of surgeons.
Then mother swam up, holding a tin basin.
O I was sick.
They've changed all that. Traveling
**** as Cleopatra in my well-boiled hospital shift,
Fizzy with sedatives and unusually humorous,
I roll to an anteroom where a kind man
Fists my fingers for me. He makes me feel something precious
Is leaking from the finger-vents. At the count of two,
Darkness wipes me out like chalk on a blackboard. . .
I don't know a thing.
For five days I lie in secret,
Tapped like a cask, the years draining into my pillow.
Even my best friend thinks I'm in the country.
Skin doesn't have roots, it peels away easy as paper.
When I grin, the stitches tauten. I grow backward. I'm twenty,
Broody and in long skirts on my first husband's sofa, my fingers
Buried in the lambswool of the dead poodle;
I hadn't a cat yet.
Now she's done for, the dewlapped lady
I watched settle, line by line, in my mirror—
Old sock-face, sagged on a darning egg.
They've trapped her in some laboratory jar.
Let her die there, or wither incessantly for the next fifty years,
Nodding and rocking and ********* her thin hair.
Mother to myself, I wake swaddled in gauze,
Pink and smooth as a baby.
5.3k
*The quietness
come from under skin of the world
The wind
come from the wishes between dreams
The skies singing
in the midst of clouds
The shadows running to the shine
Old stars were some part
of the ocean blue
Jupiter never come to the world
Jovian ring never see aurora polaris
The world never walk to the universe.*
Oct 30, 2015
Oct 30, 2015 at 12:42 AM UTC
the glockenspiel of our daily raid of sewers in heaven
and our Jovian dwarves appalling the rapturous capacity of forever and ever.
the kooky jingle of our serpents, darning socks for the antichrist
and our elaborate rats. the simple maze of our condition
in the hell were at. the creaking gate to a twilight
and a lost chapter
marooned on an
island
of undead Librarians.
starving for brains
tardy with the
Harold
Robins
knife in red breast.
Jan 19, 2013
Jan 19, 2013 at 4:37 PM UTC
NAY! swear no more, thou woman whom I called
Star, Empress, Wife! Were Dian's self to lean
From her white altar and with goddess lip
Swear thee as pure as her pale breast divine,
I could not deem thee purer than I know
Thou art indeed.
Once, when my triumphs rolled
Along old Rome and blood of roses washed
The battle-stains from off my chariot-wheels,
And triumph's thunders round my legions roared,
And kings in kingly ******* golden bound
Shook at my charger's foot, past the hot din
Of Victory-whose heart of golden pride in wound
Most subtly through with fire of subtlest pain-
My soul on prouder pinion rose above
The Roman shouting, to an air more clear
Than that Jove darks with hurtling thunderbolts,
Or stains with Jovian revels-that separate sphere,
Unshared of gods or man, where thy white feet
Caught their sole staining from my ruddy heart,
Blazing beneath them; where, when Rome looked up,
'Twas with the eyes close shaded with the hand,
As at some glory terrible and pure,-
For no man being pure, a terror dwells
Holy and awful in a sinless thing-
And Caesar's wife, the Empress-Matron, sat
Above a doubt-as high above a stain.
Nay! how know I what hell first belched abroad
Tall flames and slanderous vomitings of smoke,
Blown by infernal breathings, till they scaled
Thy throne of whiteness, and the very slaves
Who crouched in Roman kennels wagged the tongue
Against the wife of Caesar: 'Ha! we need not now
And opal-shaded stone wherewith to view
A stainless glory.' In that day my neck
Was bound and yoked with my twin-Caesar's yoke-
Man's master, Sorrow.
I know thee pure-
But Caesar's wife must throne herself so high
Upon the hills that touch their snowy crests
So close on Heaven that no slanderous Hell
Can dash its lava up their swelling sides.
I love thee, woman, know thee pure, but thou
No more art wife of Caesar. Get thee hence!
My heart is hardened as a lonely crag,
Grey granite lifted to a greyer sky,
And where against its solitary crown
Eternal thunders bellow.
3.7k
Spires silhouette the peaks of cobalt
Mountains. An ancient castle in the sky
Made small by the Jovian night. A
Hundred worlds engulfed within the eye
Reflected in stardrops, quilted by the sigh
Of a species that had lost its wonder.
One last Traveler, the last of her kind,
Dieing on the veranda
Of the fortress she had called her home,
Reaching her scaled hand to the stars
She asks,
"Are we alone?"
Feb 10, 2015
Feb 10, 2015 at 7:03 PM UTC
It has every right to bare
this clenched fist of a grudge
embittered by techno-Jovian
whims and base transformations
Once delicately formed— two
tips pressed en pointe, three
others elegantly tucked— it
danced with a golden shaft
pulling indigo pirouettes
across a swept ivory stage
Then came the re-pose: a claw’s
arched looming. Unhappiness
fell as five wilted stems,
beggar mouths forced to fumble
toward those impoverished
humps of white-on-black glyph
The other hand is left
complimentary, richly gripped
by understudy glee, being
Sep 23, 2010
Sep 23, 2010 at 9:43 AM UTC
on this cloudless night
pushing through the Pittsburgh haze,
daring to present themselves,
entwined in cosmic tango, are
Jupiter and the Moon.
the bands play across a
diluted Jovian face. while the storm
rages on
the lunar rocks and craters,
perfectly visible imperfections,
cast petulant shadows -
reminding me that
from destruction one can
still find beauty.
Apr 24, 2016
Apr 24, 2016 at 11:34 PM UTC
Let me write my books of poetry,
Sing into a microphone with no connection.
Let me wash my hair in the rain
As a means to get myself dry,
To find a connection;
To cleanse my skin with ancient water
That tiptoed the forest before Man.
Let me punch the code of my identity
Into the melody and not the spreadsheet.
Allow me to **** all the people
I was before I felt alive.
Old means for yesterdays,
Ends that caused me
To start over again.
Let me send letters to New England,
Let me drink coffee on the pedestal
Of a day spent sober-
Buckle of the grass in the wind,
Mind lost to cloud canopies
And transparent heartbeats.
Let me kiss a foreign tongue
To learn that all lies taste the same.
Let me take off my clothes
When I am alone, simply to remember
That I can.
Moon: a companion,
Windowsill vigils at dawn,
Medication for the side effect
Caused by the cure.
Let me wash up in the Jovian seas
When my feet are rooted to the Earth.
Let my mind pester the working day
With dreams for tomorrow,
With catastrophes blacklisted in the sky.
Let me write my books of poetry,
Songs of sadness with no tune.
All the feelings I forgot,
All the passion I outgrew.
Dec 15, 2015
Dec 15, 2015 at 12:07 PM UTC
---
i
drown
in the gasses
of a jovian sea
on the
red spot of
Jupiter
and of the
twin moons
Io is my only
light
she hoves
a pale blue green
sea creature
in the
phosphor
swirling
like a dervish
the world of
a pervasive
and perverse
nature
wears black lillies
and widow's weeds
i
was
in the
past when
i looked up
at the stars
already gone nova
a connect the dots
roadmap
that is
nothing
but
history
May 31, 2015
May 31, 2015 at 11:56 PM UTC
at the desk,
a Cytherean lover,
with tobacco stains on his
fingertips —
his affinity for
parchment paper
soaked in bergamot
and sandalwood
left me alone
with the cosmos.
on an eclipse,
a cigar graced his lips…
my favorite trick was
the halos he blew around
the moon.
the constellations were
yellowing notes
by antique tapers
(“years and years,” the
telescope hums),
and the Scientist paints me
another Jovian lullaby.
coffee lives in Starry Night
because of him...
That familiar redolence
as I browse the bookshelf.
Jul 10, 2015
Jul 10, 2015 at 10:15 PM UTC
he brought me the moon
when all I wanted
were saturn’s rings
wrapped around my fingers
Dec 13, 2011
Dec 13, 2011 at 12:57 AM UTC
Saurian Jovian's and Martian's clasp me to catastrophe rubble,
Dusty airpocket's, with blue sky bubble's, I tryeth to reacheth. Whilst their hobnail's art click cackling, mine suffocation is intensified by magnitude; longitude and latitude, distance is cleverly missing, mine red flow rushes, mine heartbeat nudge's; Harmonious harp playing angelic one, Gale's her hail assail into the impenetrable. She's Immortal and invincible; on forearm's, nose to her garb, her bouquet fragrance I canst telleth a lie; got me broiling in mammal wild primal heat.......
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane dedication
Aug 15, 2015
Aug 15, 2015 at 4:05 PM UTC
What is left to discover
beneath these primitive pages,
this idealistic sprawl
of half-rhymes and phrases?
We have scaled the mountains
and cast superstition asunder,
we have walked on the moon
and we have learned from our blunder.
For, what can I do
to be the first ****** eyes,
upon an uncharted land,
under Jovian skies?
We have fathomed existence
to the nearest iota,
we have established society
and a deep bass of culture.
All that is left is to wait for a saviour.
A new unbelievable mind
to help us in knowing,
to give us back to the stars,
which are forever a-glowing.
All that is left is to understand,
that where we are living
is just borrowed land.
Mar 24, 2014
Mar 24, 2014 at 10:34 PM UTC
My dearest reader, seconds ago, before your
Decision to turn the page, there was nothing.
These very words were hidden away and thus
Unseen, to all intents did not exist:
Just like the beauty of the Jovian Moons
'Til “Voyager” beamed those pictures back to Earth.
For you have brought this page to life - yes you and only you!
You bring along a wealth of memories of your own,
Your feelings, thoughts, regrets and sorrows, joys
And fears, your hopes and fantasies.
You have the mountains of your mind:
Your personal rivers, clouds and suns: flowers and gasometers!
Landscapes, dreams and nightmares of your very own.
And me, as you sit reading this, I might be dead and buried,
Or with you right now, or maybe miles away.
To you I give the role of God: to breathe your life upon this page.
Take you away, dear reader, and there’s nothing: formless void.
Yet now, together, you may join me, in a realm
Where Life, though challenged by evil,
Is warded by our Love.
Paul Butters
(C) PB 1997.
Jan 22, 2011
Jan 22, 2011 at 4:42 AM UTC
My words through technology,
Are of no comparison to what I can say,
And do in person,
For showing my love.
But I can still have them be a close second.
It’s really all so crazy.
It’s an endless amount of magic,
That I can’t bring myself forth to realize.
It’s miraculous and wondrous.
You. You are the center of my universe.
You're my sun, my moon, my stars, my galaxy.
My Jovian-Plutonien Gravitational effect.
I wouldn’t have it any other way.
You’re mine. All mine.
I won’t let anyone else have you,
As long as I’m with you.
Me. I’m me. Taking it all in,
Enjoying every little bit of it.
Every Time you inch closer,
To me at the lunch tables.
Every time we both enter our little world,
And no one else is there but us.
Every time we hold hands.
Every smile we pass to each other.
Every time you look at me with,
adoring eyes.
I cherish those moments.
Every moment that I know you’re all mine,
I cherish that. I love you so much,
it’s an unbreakable bond in my heart now.
The worst of things could try to break it,
And yet it would still prevail.
The reason why I’ve stayed is simple:
Even if you break my heart,
You’re the reason why it heals.
Us. We are unique together.
I’ve never had a relationship like this,
And I want to continue having a relationship like this,
Who wouldn’t.
It’s amazing just how much I love you,
And am devoted to us.
The definition of love is to feel a deep,
Romantic attachment to someone.
I have not been clingy in my past,
I don’t think, but in this one,
I can say I am. So the word attachment,
Suits me well.
I think the world of you.
I don’t care if the world is composed,
of billions of people.
I want you. I love you.
End of story,
And beginning of our’s.
Mar 16, 2016
Mar 16, 2016 at 4:58 PM UTC
do you know why i cant take my eyes off of you
because i know deep down inside
your so hot
you must be to good for me
i learned a long time ago
not to love people like you
even though
i
oh so do
your countenance is a weapon
maybe if i didn't love you so much
you would love me more
i pretend not to notice you
can you see me not noticing
can you see me smiling and talking
to others
like i dont care if your so dam charming
are you getting jealous
i hope you dont see me wanting you so desperately
noticing you
are you noticing me
but i didnt see you look over this way
whats the hold up?
guess im not your cup of tea
or
i bet your crafty
playing games
maybe
ill do a tarot reading
what NO
two of cups ?
NO
lovers ?
dammm
maybe the i Ching
what
darkening of the light ?
ok,
the psychic hot line
ouch
seventy dollars
and the psychic is just getting some vibrations
one hundred and fifty more and counting
and we still haven't got to the last card
how about candle magic
wow
new candles from pan pipes
burning
red of lust
blue for Jovian expansion
green for goddess Venus
queen of loves trove
*thee i invoke Dianna
we shall soon see
by the power of her glory
you will come to me
you have to now
tee hee hee*
im shaking inside
waiting
and running from you
are you watching me run from you
are you asking your self why i run
does it make you want to run after me
i read a book on how to get you to fall in love with me
it says
imagine my head is a magnet
and your metal
and when i press the magic
imaginary button
your instantly magnetized
falling helplessly my way
like charged particles
**** over heals
yet every time you pass me
my head bends and twists uncontrollably towards you
finding myself standing so close
not knowing how i got there
my heart is murdering my mind
ive been talking to myself about you
like a self flushing toilet
that never stops
*thee i invoke Dianna
we shall soon see
by the power of her glory
you will come to me
you have to now
tee hee hee
thee i invoke Aphrodite
we shall soon see
by the power of her glory
you will come to me
you have to now
tee hee hee
thee i invoke Astarte
we shall soon see
by the power of her glory
you will come to me
you have to now
tee hee hee
for i am the lord god
and every spell and scourge
shall be obedient unto me
till hell freezes over
so mote it be
for the star of six is fixed in stone
tee hee hee*
i better go over and talk to you now
Feb 24, 2017
Feb 24, 2017 at 7:20 PM UTC