"lyra" poems
Nostradamus and sleeping prophet's One lost image of the singular Eye
Re(ad(d): No worry
To, Love Our Sun :).
Signs like Gemini is to air
Sagittarius is to fire a pair
in this crossing with Pisces
to water is Virgo for earth
too We are the mutable ones!!
Sunny is however we coin the calling spiraling too
EYE of the One generation transmutable souls of soil ARE
to earth; 'hues EYED like a butterfly, here to sample many flowers
connected within a Great Spirit invoked as in wilds if peopled or things'!!!
We do feel it within or without the actual considerations of the ultimate doings;
'letting go and taking the risk of trusting and depending on another'!!! One by one!!! :)
EYE of humus hued in spirit and love fused to the stone's twirling and of the ruse's tolling
So many of paths we traverse here as on earth the singular EYE knows out on the HORIZON
The great Eye is too glued on Sunny Sun's ever evolving viewing's as hued spirits cross EYE'S
Our blinded one eye's longing to Lyra's lyre, great musician Orpheus winging, whose W
music tamed wild beasts, caused rivers to stop flowing and enchanted even gates S
to the Lord of the Dead Hades, the softly lit fire singing inside linking heaven A
to earth viewed from outsider's hues waxing and waning of sleep wakened I N
so ode to the moon in the darkness of night gives but who takes her softer F USED
delight when One day halves by sun setting all ebbs in flowing as tides B I
to Great oceans moved like hearts breathe air to presence's emoting STAR'S
from magic to tragic we long of ecliptic traces cryptically erasing W
the blindness of memory and sight' majestic beast's floundering I
a forever crisscrossed from the One Eye here now to Knight's N
dear lost forbidden inner retreats from the East to God's lost 'S
children cast out to the land from blood pooling in spoils O
as easily uncovered as readily as new western lands had ~/ E \~ N
claim maddened ravaged savagely eagerly discovered ~(:YES :)~ G
fear still rocks this boat with hope still sailing onward (:FORGIVEN:). 'S
Oct 8, 2012
Oct 8, 2012 at 7:52 PM UTC
You unscrew the jar; Orion’s climactic sigh spills—
A cello’s low A hums—our triad, C and E—the night skies.
Your thumb caresses pulse down my throat, andante, it drills
through myth—not his hunt, but the damp heat between our thighs.
We’ve plucked Lyra’s rusted chords, restrung her spine
to thrum with your breath, not some dead muse’s cords.
Stars crack like old records; we skip, we refine—
our bed, a cradle for light, shed our sheer white peignoirs.
You fear the jars dim? Let me mouth the black core
of Cassiopeia—choke her brittle groan,
then laugh as you arch—my crescendo, your score—
each note a plum’s burst where her language had flown.
Your teeth score my shoulder. The dark soars, unconfined—
We swallow the arias. Let the void choke on mine.
Apr 18, 2025
Apr 18, 2025 at 8:06 PM UTC
i studied your body like i would the sky,
tracing constellations into your skin as you hummed
what sounded like the clouds would when they move.
andromeda on your throat, aquarius along your collarbones,
canis major covered your chest, gemini on your right shoulder.
i didn't want to leave when you told me that you loved me.
leo graced your left shoulder, just slightly down your back,
your stomach wore lyra, lopsided, like your smile.
sometimes i couldn't breathe at the thought of losing you.
orion on one hip, pisces on the other, my lips on both,
scorpius, dangerous, starting on your inner thigh.
but it was that loving you that scared me more than losing you.
taurus, ursa major, both on your calves,
body trembling as i traced virgo onto your ankles.
i couldn't hold on, i couldn't breathe, i couldn't understand.
i always saved libra for last, a balance scale,
over the entirety of your back, my safe haven.
breaking the scale when i leaned over, lips against your ear,
we can't exist together.
Apr 19, 2016
Apr 19, 2016 at 9:59 PM UTC
tonight a girl stands on a bridge.
the midsummer breeze dances around her curves.
it begs her to come play.
her heart beats steady.
her gaze is motionless.
the changing air steals a whisper.
"we are moving into the house of Aquarius"
under the bridge a man sleeps.
in a few weeks he'll turn fifty-eight,
but he doesn't know that.
he hasn't had a birthday celebration in years.
he hasn't had anything to celebrate in years.
the bridge is home now.
above him,
a girl is rediscovering herself.
a girl is rediscovering her fear of heights.
she looks 25 light years above her, at Vega.
in a way, she thinks, she is like this star.
she is about midway through her life expectancy,
but her light died a quarter century ago.
the man sleeps soundly.
a smile is spread across his face.
he is dreaming of his dinner,
a footlong sub.
extra olives, just the way he likes it.
it was his first meal in several days
but tonight, his stomach is full.
he has come to like the grease on his face.
it shows he has survived many challenges.
the hardships have only made him wiser.
the girl, she minored in astrology.
she was fifth in her graduating class.
debt lurked deep in her mind.
it polluted her every thought with
reminders that she was not in control.
now, she tries to justify her current position.
on the bridge.
looking out at Lyra, partially hidden by clouds
"nothing I do will matter."
she reconsiders.
she recalls an anecdote she overheard
on the subway, or somewhere:
"when you're dead, you're dead for a looooong time"
she smiles. kids say the darnedest things.
tonight she curses her 'lucky stars'.
nothing the girl does will matter.
tonight she will become a woman.
tonight she will give herself to the wind.
the man will find her in the morning.
the man will chuckle to himself.
"they always make it down here,
one way or another"
Apr 3, 2014
Apr 3, 2014 at 1:23 PM UTC
Certainly our city with its byres of poverty down to
The river's edge, its cathedral, its engines, its dogs;
Here is the cosmopolitan cooking
And the light alloys and the glass.
Built by the conscience-stricken, the weapon-making,
By us. Wild rumours woo and terrify the crowd,
Woo us. Betrayers thunder at, blackmail
Us. But where now are They.
Who without reproaches showed us what our vanity
has chosen,
Who pursued understanding with patience like a ***
had unlearnt
Our hatred and towards the really better
World had turned their face?
Who knows? The peaked and violent faces are exalted,
The feverish prejudiced lives do not care, and lost
Their voice in the flutter of bunting, the glittering
Brass of our great retreat,
And the malice of death. For the wicked card is dealt and
The sinister tall-hatted botanist stoops at the spring
With his insignificant phial and looses
The plague on the ignorant town.
Under their shadows the pitiful subalterns are sleeping;
The moon is usual; the necessary lovers touch;
The river is alone and the trampled flower;
And through years of absolute cold
The planets rush towards Lyra in a lion's charge. Can
Hate so securely bind? Are they dead here? Yes.
And the wish to wound has the power. And tomorrow
Comes. It's a world. It's a way.
2.3k
Spiders,
I love how they fester inside her
When blood boils
And her anger gets higher
Sweet Lyra,
Hold me close
Don't call me a liar
Come,
Smile a little wider
And sing me to
sleep
May 14, 2015
May 14, 2015 at 5:27 AM UTC
Surrealistic lover meet me at the danger zone
In space ships where we simulate
As you shape shift, I stay fascinated
A reptilian, an arcturian, pleiadian
The vega, a lyra, light years away
Supersonic lover kiss me at the signal house
In cellular automaton advance my grid of DNA
As we diffuse in megastructures, callibrate my power
A sirian, grays, draconian,anunnaki
The human, indigo, crystal, the rainbow
Take me to the fantasy, at the star line of illusion
Where my body glows and your DNA burrows
Take me and show me the laser in the magic cosmic
Open my heart, inject your poison,kiss my toes as you do
Disconnect my body and spirit to another dimension
Distort the optic nerve so that the reality seems normal
Transverse the solar bodies and celestial systems
Fight the hypotonic regression to recall the delusions
Climb the mountain as the peaceful dwellers wear googles
Awaiting for a UFO float and disappear from the bare land
May 21, 2016
May 21, 2016 at 1:59 PM UTC
*Two beautiful stars of the night, Capricorn and Lyra
Capricorn tending to his herd minding his own business
Lyra, a daughter of the sun weaving and spinning
Father the sun king notices, and has become pleased
Alas, married forever, so enchanting was their love
a love of sweet fairytales, finally days and nights
were both one of excitement, no more business
and no more weaving or spinning of garments
These days were for play, and love, and happiness
and no silly lover could be more foolish than she
until father the sun king becomes a little vexed
does he wish for her to remain, mild and gentle?
Alas, Capricornus and Lyra's smiles finally vanished
as father the sun king ordered them separated
and quickly places a river of stars between them
and longing in their hearts
Still a glimmer of hope for their love continues
as father gifts them with one special night
of reuniting,
the seventh night of the seventh month
This special occasion of the year they will meet
with their hearts overflowing with love
and to promise to wait another year
as they comfort each other with endless kisses
alas, star-lovers an unconventional love story*
Apr 5, 2017
Apr 5, 2017 at 12:07 PM UTC
I am the guy outside the window
Wondering what it must be like to touch,
to feel...
I am the guy who appreciates a few seconds of kindness
Wondering what it means to live in a perfect world
I am the guy who finds success in defeat
Digesting just how strong I must be
Often finding failure in victory, if victory means I sell my soul...
The hours are long and there is so much to do in a second
it boils down to a single act
right down to thought and the moments in between
and the way you perceive the world as you stop thinking
without falling asleep
Reason takes sharper frame
there are so many questions and evident half truths
So outside the window you analyze the grey
and see the curves and spirals
and everything physical becomes an illusion
people and things become props
and life becomes a play
soon enough you reach a point of high epiphany
becoming clairvoyant, pictures and sounds transmitted along the web
the web that connects us all
and temples you see, many sailing in boats
Slaves and Masters, Kings and Councils
and Earth becomes a mirror of everything the verses unison
You deviate from prose and read the poem
a song starts to play and your mind begins to sail
thinking at high wavelengths
what is chaos here, is a planned order up there
and you transcend from dimension to dimension
picking up thoughts, incarnating as a walk in on other realms
taking part in Strategy plans of the Universe
you have a chair in the Federation
all races meet talking about their human and hybrid children
You learn that out there is not too different to in here
there are Spaceships and exhibitions
Aerial restaurants
Cosmic *** in a theatrical sense
the end point being the creation of worlds in voids - worlds absent
And you learn that there are Watchers, they are watching us
Learning about us, taking notes and samples
Sometimes they send telepathic messages
Sometimes they video-mix our dreams
Other times they take you travelling
From Egypt to Mars, From Mars to Konder, Konder to Lyra and back
at this point chaos down here, is a planned order up there
perfection becomes ridiculous as you see evil conducted
Mountains and vortex points, tiny dots on the screens of planet-ships
You wake up and you don't feel quite the same
You can sense vibes of having been through wormholes
Time linear starts all over again
you have to constantly remind yourself of where you are
One thing remains: the memory and They, that They are here and They are watching.
Jun 7, 2013
Jun 7, 2013 at 6:55 AM UTC
the sun oozed under my eyelids until I couldn’t keep them shut any longer
I laid there and heard the silence of my house in the morning
there were birds and they sung songs that made me feel heartsick
I didn’t have a hangover
Sam told me, in the most nonchalant way, that he spoke about me to someone I deeply admire and they like my music
first time I watched Tangled and I wanted to punch the mother in the face but I couldn’t because she is a cartoon
Lyra and I both had tender tummies and painted our nails like a rainbow
baths are beginning to feed into my sick games of numbing myself
blatant malnourishment
brash abandon of my self-worth
my mind wobbled over to the fact that someone I deeply admire likes my music and that I must be more noticeable than I think I am
maybe that’s not true though
I swear my dog died about ten times today
I am a plant and this couch is my ***
Am I noticeable?
when I eat too much and feel bloated, I just pretend that I’m pregnant and sometimes even talk to my stomach as if there was a fetus inside of it
I don't think many people do those kinds of things when they're alone
a french accent is beginning to fit me better than an english one, like finding an old dress in a closet and surprising yourself in the mirror
I talked to myself all day because - loneliness
Apr 28, 2013
Apr 28, 2013 at 4:49 PM UTC
mild, so mild in the night
to travel with the earth
amongst an early starlit bloom,
muddy fields fill the air
with pubescent June.
goslings waddle, fuzzy scurries.
mother, father,
enlarge and hiss
protecting their long months work,
now free from pipping shells.
so cool is the night while
laying hidden in uncut fields.
chilling winds dance atop feral growth.
sanctuary for outward gazing,
through to unknown worlds.
there is no envy from a distance.
breath feeds wonder, spilling over
into this vessel, so soon to be forgotten.
spoiled from within, the unborn,
rotten. a shell too hard to crack.
there is no nest for that sacred sibling.
forgotten by mother and father.
their failed incubation, rotting.
lost amongst the stars
but within the field of all.
Apollo sings to Pollux and Castor
stroking somber tones from Lyra.
"Greet the voiceless into forever;
attach to them their rightful wings",
"chirp, chirp, chirp"
May 16, 2017
May 16, 2017 at 1:33 AM UTC
We angled ourselves to face Lyra-
I turned repeatedly to him.
Hid in a blanket-cocoon we
beat a rhythm of fingertip-dreams.
We angled ourselves to face Lyra-
I turned repeatedly to him.
He rained prayers and promises;
a sky-full of stars fell down unseen.
We angled ourselves to face Lyra-
I turned one last time to him.
Pinned dead-butterfly colours
to his mouth, his tongue, his skin.
Jan 1, 2021
Jan 1, 2021 at 8:53 AM UTC
i slowly cave in on myself
and the sky smells of falling stars—
i can taste it, leaking in through
the cracks. i ascend, like a hot
air balloon, my body filled
with moonlight, the dust
falling off the trail of a comet.
the night is dripping paint,
navy blue and black, the ravens
are cutting holes in the air and
neptune shines through, a minty
frost, ice and starlight. my feet
are far above the clouds—an
icarus floating in the dark,
dark sky, and i reach for cygnus
—no more light pollution here.
lyra plucks its golden strings
and the moon sings a lullaby,
sweet and slow like drops
of mercury. and there, as
stardust glows through my skin,
replaces sore organs with light
and swallows each aching bit,
i sleep.
Jan 5, 2017
Jan 5, 2017 at 2:49 AM UTC
In the quiet of night, I walk wild and free
To find something that will bring you back to me
There is a roughness in the silent breeze
The soil wet and soft beneath my feet
I keep walking, leaving behind a trail of blood and dirt
while my head hums and my heart is full of hurt
As I see the blinding light right in front of me
the stars glisten bright above the sea
I look up as I lay half asleep on the shoreline
the bluish white constellation of Lyra twinkles in the sky
and I laugh because even after all that we’ve been through
Everything still comes back to you.
May 23, 2017
May 23, 2017 at 2:34 PM UTC
I miss you so much..
I remember
The first time we've met..
You sat down next to me
You were the girl in red.
The first time you said Hi!
Your laugh is really lovely
I know in my heart
that
there is something in you that so bright
We became friends
Best Friends actually.
We laugh
We cry
So many memories we've shared.
Until the day came
We need to say Goodbye
We're far apart
But still talking to each other
busy is just a word for us.
soon
I'm leaving.
Your morning is my night
even though it's like that
I can tell
I'll never forget you
I hope you know..
how much you really mean to me
You are the first real one I can define.
My true friend.
Mar 12, 2016
Mar 12, 2016 at 9:32 AM UTC
Unorthodox avant-garde
Off key to thy sphere
Steep in lofty elevation
Crucial they are,
To anothers needs
When one dies
One tends to bleed,
His organs for a soupish trade
Magnates
Losers of this world
Kings and queens of
Lyra
Vega
M57
Celestial appendage
Pumpkin glow orb
We shalt explore
It's craters
And be sedated by the earth's view
For doth they knoweth?
Their world shall soon end
As me and her
Will be bent
In ourn arms and legs as latches!!!!
We're just watchers
The ones who see all to cometh
Old time knowledge
For the earthlings who are far from becoming as one...
Jun 16, 2015
Jun 16, 2015 at 5:26 PM UTC
When I am dead-and my body turned to dust,
my atoms will conjoin with her I loved and lost,
and we'll be two in one again-that is if God is just.
Together we will quit this old Earth's crust, and fly-
above the mountains of The Moon, to view the constellations in the heavens, and negociate the crowded realms above-to ride on Pegasus
and sup with Cassiopea, conversing on equal terms, with Lyra Vegus and Aquilla-who will direct us and be our guide
to where all space and time is quite forgot,
and there we will find Heaven waiting- with open gates,
and the smiles of all the friends we knew, to regognise our maker, and be made welcome.
Jun 18, 2014
Jun 18, 2014 at 3:42 PM UTC
Time passes. It is never ending, but it stops and it goes. Everyone is waiting for something; but not so much waiting as looking. Everyone is looking for something. I have been looking for many things, countless things. Innumerable things:
Bee, who doesn't know it yet. She is on his way to me, but she cannot comprehend it, no, not yet. She is not yet here. She is in another place, waiting to be born. She does not exist. But he sees me, and I see him. He is here, with me, eternally.
Truth, which evades me at every possible chance. He comes to visit me at times, in little bubbles, which only last a few seconds, then are gone faster than they came. She does not visit others, not so much; not anymore.
Life, which many would say that I've found, that I am living, that I am life, that life is me. But. No. I am not life and life is not me. I have not lived, not fully, not the way they want me to. And what with this I am happy as can be.
Home, what is nowhere, what doesn't exist anymore. My home has been long dead. My home is gone, forever. Home was somewhere very, very, very far away. Much farther than most can imagine right now. My home was Lyra, Arcturus. Arcturus was my home, and now it is gone. My home is gone. But, hark!: my home still exists, it has all-ways. And so, my home is with him.
As many cannot see, we are all here, and we never can't be.
Dec 18, 2015
Dec 18, 2015 at 2:45 PM UTC
In Memoriam,
Where is the face that launched a thousand ships?
Girls of the age of the waves are named after her
Helen, whose Sparta is now a mundane village
No one breathes in her mythical sillage
No one grabs her golden belt above the hips.
Where is the lithe Hermes and his winged sandals?
Women of today wear him daily on their necklaced throne
Around the neck and the perfume, a scarf is thrown
Do you know of this French house creating scandals?
Does Apollo know he has been sent into space
In an intricate horse of iron called eleven
Here’s hoping he saws the strings of Lyra
He, bringing poetry and Letters to grace.
What about the boastful Paris and his pride?
Cursed by Aphrodite and Helen’s eloper
What would he know of the City of Lights
Paris, paradise of lovers to reach new heights…
And what to say of fair Spartan Hermione
The incarnated actor making much more money
From Hermione to Emma but none of the myth
Both had to fortunately grit their teeth…
Ajax the Lesser who forced himself on Cassandra
Still tears your household and floor asunder
Warrior whose name now scrubs the dust
Off nowadays lame palaces, bound to rust…
Homer, father of the epic poem of Greece
You should hide under your sheep’s fleece
What would you say to the yellowish Cyclops
Benighted idiot, pondering on donuts!
Lyon, March 2- March 4, 2017
Mar 5, 2017
Mar 5, 2017 at 8:19 AM UTC
Star light star bright
Wish I may wish I might
Surf the cosmos horizon tonight .
I paint a picture with my imagination
Wandering in wonder I am in liberation
From the sirius twins blue creatures
To the Pleiades radiant compassionate features
Sailing on to arcturus with immaculate inventions
I spread my love to Orion to aid in an ascension
Memories of Lyra and Vega are held tight close to my heart
Here in outer space the end is the beginning and now is the only time to start
Take my hand and let's take a surf in the astral
It's as easy as walking really truly quite practical
We are the hybrids made from the dust of stars
Time and space an illusion always home in the galaxies bizarre
My energy shall never be destroyed
It is with you great cosmic angels that I am employed
Many lives I have lived many more I shall give
I am nothing and I am everything
A small speck in the great sea of mystery and infinity
It is within you my love a portal I see
A mirror of me and of me is we
Ancient tides wash upon our shores
That we do so curiously implore
Cobwebs n roses unearthed from our cores
True valiant and radiant love entrepreneurs
May I be embelished in your quintessence and forever adore
The magic of the cosmos unfathomable creation
The cells in my body buzzing with great oscillation
The music of the spheres hums the greatest tune I have ever known
Vibrantly vibrating down my vertebrae to the rest of my bones
My body a vessel a shell and a car
My soul drives me, leading the way, always taking charge
Nov 15, 2019
Nov 15, 2019 at 3:11 AM UTC
Amy asked for
Brian's basket,
Casey almost blew a gasket.
Daniel went to summer school,
Ethan thinks he's super cool.
Fiona fell right on the floor,
Gabby laughed and laughed some more.
Hugo got the heebie-jeebies,
Isaac loves to score some freebies.
Jess is top in all her classes,
Kylie needs her reading glasses.
Lyra loves to sing a song,
Maggie never thinks she's wrong.
Noah broke his little nose,
Oliver drinks right out the hose.
Penny poses for a photo,
Quincy's dragon's a Komodo.
Ryan thinks his dog has rabies,
Stuart's cat just had some babies.
Tommy likes to play baseball,
Ursula likes the season fall.
Violet plays the violin,
Wyatt's strength comes from within.
Xavier needs all
Your attention,
Zane just got his tenth detention.
May 10, 2019
May 10, 2019 at 3:15 PM UTC