"magellanic" poems
Are you the surge, triggering the flight of the transcending bird?
the ultimate mystery, unspeakable, that liberates the seeker.
While awaiting the wingless flight, the moment of soul's effulgence,
you too are a mystery , like the all encompassing spirit, I am one with
The universe is not wholly cognizable,constant transformation
one to something drastically different, and the story never ends.
Known physics, could tell the story,only halfway, the rest is dark
I understand the helplessness of space observatory at Herschel
peering at vast Magellanic cloud galaxy, a mystery in the move.
Nov 1, 2014
Nov 1, 2014 at 6:37 AM UTC
Neither clown nor child nor black
nor white but verticle
and a questioning innocence
dressed in night and snow:
The mother smiles at the sailor,
the fisherman at the astronaunt,
but the child child does not smile
when he looks at the bird child,
and from the disorderly ocean
the immaculate passenger
emerges in snowy mourning.
I was without doubt the child bird
there in the cold archipelagoes
when it looked at me with its eyes,
with its ancient ocean eyes:
it had neither arms nor wings
but hard little oars
on its sides:
it was as old as the salt;
the age of moving water,
and it looked at me from its age:
since then I know I do not exist;
I am a worm in the sand.
the reasons for my respect
remained in the sand:
the religious bird
did not need to fly,
did not need to sing,
and through its form was visible
its wild soul bled salt:
as if a vein from the bitter sea
had been broken.
Penguin, static traveler,
deliberate priest of the cold,
I salute your vertical salt
and envy your plumed pride.
5.6k
I am barely a mineral now, not yet a woman in the ground,
not yet growing gardens and begging people to cook my peppers.
My home is dizzy from my constant re-entry, which helps me to cheat,
in life I am looking for the harvest in people. I am a thread of cotton pulling
every word like it is more porous than the next, which helps me.
I summersault through conversations rather read in sharpie,
on the last corner white space of bathroom stalls,
alone and blushed. I remember love like a tagline inviting a smile
and messages to strangers. When I look in the mirror I am always inhaling,
my mouth says O, O I am out of excuses. I tell everyone I’m tired of working,
which helps me to hide in my comet ways. I am tight-lined,
which is to say I feel love on the hairs of my arms, the wind,
the blades of fans speak to me at night when I have nothing left to say.
I am licensed to moving. In the dark in the cities public spaces and
also in alleyways I am soft like a moonbeam. I am convinced the world is a sewer,
which helps me to explain the exchange of waste and skin and the secrets hidden
in tunnels of shadows. When I move the world blurs with me like a heartbeat.
I am underground like the sewer, rotten in negative spaces, which helps me,
to hear the echo ripple swish of every piece of trash call my name.
I have no response. Some days the world is too ***** One day I will learn
to quilt and stitch together every important face, which will help me
to remember my grandmother and how she loved to balloon to the sky.
I dream she is a large magellanic cloud beaming out of the universe, the force
of believing is the word Hallelujah sung from the lips of Leonard Cohen.
It is midnight. It is noon. I close my eyes for a second and I see myself as miles
from the moon. I am running every day now and there is nothing left to see. My heart
is a kitchen door swinging and it does not want to stop.
Sep 20, 2012
Sep 20, 2012 at 12:30 AM UTC
I want to jump off the earth and into space
As vast visions of knowledge graze my face
Laplace's demon I wish to be
But that hypothetical is not me
To witness planets and stars humans never see
Floating in space will set me free
Milky Way, Andromeda, perhaps a Magellanic cloud
Vega, Rigel, and Altair are my shroud
Antares and Arcturus burning up high
Adara and Bellatrix in my night sky
Life like Eridanus, the end is Achernar
So beautiful up close, and from afar
Horologium watching my every move
To Hydrus and Leo, my courage I must prove
Sun Ra taught me that "Space Is The Place"
When I journey forth, Ill shall adventure with grace
Mar 7, 2010
Mar 7, 2010 at 9:40 PM UTC
I touch her hand in mine
and see allegory cage that Magellanic will bask
and shall dorado not inhibit her glow in cheek now subdue
that wind may howl indeed so wine can stiffen resolve
only then find hers in living here upon my arrival
this culture won't shock my veins in smite
and bliss quite avow does her only navel. Alas
Jun 19, 2016
Jun 19, 2016 at 7:15 AM UTC
A morning distilled into solemnity
I sit here waiting for something
a bird of ether
to remind me:
quintessentially
I am Asterope
a rock
one of the
Magellanic Clouds
I am eating my dust
everythingandnothing
Rockskipping
lipstickingnothing
To think is to pretend
Fantasizing being
shall we
waltz in whimsy?
Methinks ‘twould be lovely
cradling stars
for a moment
fickle and breathless
(see how easy it is...
and then death comes
and
death is
( )
Mar 30, 2015
Mar 30, 2015 at 11:57 AM UTC
i want to tear out a piece of the universe
and crush it in a closed fist
just to see supernovae erupting in my palm
i want to etch constellations into my arms
and nebulae of purple gossamer bruises
will form among fragile galaxies on my salt and pepper skin
i want to inject the cosmos into my veins
to feel streams of stardust course through me
and my eyes will be magellanic clouds
and my fingers will gently move the planets
and i will write the stars into the sky
Sep 12, 2015
Sep 12, 2015 at 2:23 AM UTC
I slept in late because my E-butler germanium
crystles had leaked from his
Titanium clock
and you know how those
time sleep castles work
so I missed your v-mail
darling
just give me a minute to take my breakfast pills
I need to cut down on my calories
my head barely fits on the Apple I-bod 9
i have. I need to buy that latest one the Apple 13,
but my crystal orb of credit has been hacked
again
and the league of justifiers
and credit robots are of no help
can we make it tonight?
Our virtual meeting. My USB stick is hard and ready.
I can see your port is glistening.
Okay I will turn off the light show
of the large Magellanic cloud, I know how your eye LED's get.
Can we listen to some oldies though?
I heard this sound warp the other day
sounded so new.
Alexa said it was Classic Rock.
May 15, 2017
May 15, 2017 at 1:38 AM UTC
The Magellanic Clouds,
virid up above;
the light of Streets
the rubberstamped rooms
the Winding Clock --
Shuttering forth
Houses expulsed by
the Wind:
beating in double Time.
Arias bursting,
Dissipating --
between Ears gushing
out.
Jan 31, 2018
Jan 31, 2018 at 8:44 PM UTC
As magellanic clouds collapse into a spoon
i wander off... my satchel strapped to my salubrious stride.
my eyes unmanned. now binary soul nova
resting on my cheekbones... boring holes in the landscapes
to catch a glimpse of the carousel underneath.
spinning on it's side.
perpetual.
While bathing in the last rays of a bright idea -
receding; in accord with epiphanies of mellifluous delight.
my lifespan, now an Always without a comma -
blessed by new bones... thin as reeds to take flight and escape.
where other worlds gleam in the Labyrinth -
night deprived.
unfathomable.
[ can't wait ]
May 11, 2018
May 11, 2018 at 7:34 PM UTC