"liquidous" poems
Your utter complacence is
Perpetually mitigated by your patience;
Yet, since we've met,
Your ubiquitous,
Splendidly liquidous,
Serendipitous humor,
Like a tumor,
Has beguiled me,
Defiled me,
Riled me.
Your delicious,
Surreptitious,
Obfuscation of superfluous condemnation is
Erroneous and felonious
A frantic and pedantic antic.
Nov 24, 2015
Nov 24, 2015 at 9:23 PM UTC
Take a step
Where you never have before.
Take my hand,
Let me show you
What it’s like out there.
You and I can explore
The darkest reaches
of the cosmos,
The most colorful places
of the universe,
The strangest too.
Things that your imagination
Never could grasp fully
Like a coiled snake wraps its prey,
But only touched fleetingly
Like a seal gliding through
Layered folds of icy waters.
Our feet will tread
softly and silently,
Falling on scintillating walkways
Of balancing galaxies
Floating
Just beneath us.
On all sides the stars will glimmer,
White and orange
walls of our corridors,
The nebulae glistening,
Like crystalline clouds
of pure and rare jewels.
Do you doubt me?
I can understand that.
After all,
who has ever
Been able to reach out
And with cupped
and outstretched hands,
Cradle it,
hold it out to you,
The absolute meaning
Of this existence,
Right before your eager face.
The warm light reflecting
Eerily phosphorous
and luminescent upon
Your cheeks,
electrically pale in the blue dusk.
Your gaze so unmistakably sparkling
With that touch of joy,
That juvenile smile
of innocence and wonder.
And what is “it”
After all?
A glowing ball of pure energy,
Molten like lava,
Shifting and liquidous and flaming,
Mercurial and lustrous?
Would it tell
of the hot and violent beginnings
Of this warped and wicked world?
Or is it a shimmering
Field of dancing ice,
Silvery and reflective
in the light of a newborn dawn.
Would we know it
If it danced past us,
Every single day
of our mundane
and daily lives?
Or has it in fact always been there?
In every last leaf
floating upon the breeze,
In every little detail
Of a spider web
Dripping with dew,
And we’ve just been too busy
To stop
for even just a moment,
And notice
It.
--Jack Singer
Oct 11, 2011
Oct 11, 2011 at 10:43 AM UTC