"novas" poems
in this
pocketful
of limbo
the distance rises
in curls of smoke
a prairie fire
siphoning into
crisp edge
of forest
Inside my
uncloaked ventricle
primeval forces
turn my blood into
dusted gold
as they pump
sacred texts
into my oxygen
They roll your quintessence
upon my fingers,
playing inside
my psyche's
wild ache
a spread of orifice
in spellbound mantra,
as I spit out
the
hairy thorns,
a holy purge of
internal
engravings
Somehow ---
like a miracle,
I grow ripe seedlings
from deep within
my womb
as I trip into
a universe rising
I take wisps
of your grace
as it brushes
the jut of my
astral collarbone
You are always
grounding me
like this,
my tongue
tripping
over velvet
stance of warrior
assuaged into silk
Without you,
I might be
whisked off into
the periphery
of chaos
but instead
I am simply
tied to
the urgency
of the little novas
about to
explode
While I wait
I tend to
the wildfires.
to make sure they
are still burning
I keep my honey
wet and fresh
upon your
lips,
let my pores
drip moonpools
into your glistening
wet of mouth
and only when
it is time
I let the whole of
me burst
into the
fire -wrapped
tips of
stars
Oct 21, 2017
Oct 21, 2017 at 12:56 AM UTC
Here you are again,
sitting on your bed,
but it seems this time I see the sea running down your face coming from the holes where the universe lies, and the galaxies sit.
Words fly across the room,
self destructing.
Explosions like super novas,
caused by accumulated energy and increasing gravitational pressure.
You collapse. With nothing but a light that outshines any star in your wake.
Pause.
Take a deep breath. Breathe in all the stardust that surround you.
Stop.
Don't even think that you're lesser than these galaxies, for you create them by merely smiling.
Go.
Crank up that hyperdrive,
and blast off to another solar system,
learn new things,
teach yourself to once again fall in love,
like learning to ride a bike,
but always remember the constellations that are burned into your eye lids.
Reminding you not to pass through astroid fields.
Remember this,
when you feel like your oxygen is running low don't hesitate in plugging your tubes into my lungs,
and I will breathe into you all the reasons why I love you.
Know this,
that your mistakes are like the stars that glimmer at night,
they may seem like they're just floating there constantly ,
but know this,
that just like these star, they are nothing but phantom lights,
They no longer exist.
But don't compare me to any of them,
for I am like the moon.
You may see me clearly at night But I am not a phantom light,
I am always here,
like the moon in early hours of the morning.
baby,
As much as I like you learning and experiencing new things
Don't forget that I am back here on earth,
I wanna let you know that,
I miss you.
I miss your long black hair,
and how it stretches like the vastness of space.
Your face that shines like the morning sun.
I will be here,
stirring your favorite cup of hot cosmos,
with a few pieces of comets because I know you don't like it too hot.
Waiting to hear your stories of adventure, and wanting to go back to them.
It may take lightyears for you to come back, but I will be patient.
I will be here,
Waiting for your arrival.
Signed,
Houston.
May 31, 2015
May 31, 2015 at 11:24 PM UTC
Graças a Deus
Você deve agradecer a criação de Deus?
Como um ser humano humilde Estou sempre grato a tudo que meus olhos podem ver e minha mente pode ou não poder entender.
Vejo a vida como um presente muito precioso. Não me pergunte porquê, cada pessoa é que deve ver e abrir os olhos para todas as belezas da natureza, do universo.
A Criação de Deus é cheia de amor e carinho. O homem nunca vai ser melhor que nosso Senhor no espírito do verdadeiro amor. Seu Filho Jesus
morreu pelos nossos pecados.
Dias virão e a mortalidade permanecerá como o grande segredo para a espécie humana. Novas descobertas mostram o poder do Espírito Santo.
Como um verdadeiro crente eu vejo Deus como amigo, como uma luz que está sempre ligada, como o melhor arquiteto que planeou o mundo e fez isso de uma forma esplêndida.
Quando eu semeio sementes não consigo ver nada. Eu me preocupo com as sementes, coloco a água, trato tudo com carinho e acredito verdadeiramente que a época da colheita virá como uma recompensa. Deus deu tudo para o homem. A cada momento peço paz, o respeito e o amor verdadeiro por toda a criação de Deus.
Eu sou abençoado por me dedicar ao cultivo de uvas no Vale do Douro. Bendigo Deus pela minha família, amigos e por ter Deus todo o tempo na minha vida. Estou sempre grato por tudo o que rodeia no Espírito da criação de Deus.
Amor á natureza ao Universo, amando cada ser humano como Deus ama será o ideal de toda a criação.
Deus abençoe a todos
Victor Marques
May 30, 2014
May 30, 2014 at 2:16 PM UTC
maybe someday I'll give a ****
and write something with substance
or maybe I'll keep the ****
so I can have something in abundance
and maybe I'll quit this ****
as a **** you" to redundance
nah
super novas
seeding flowers
a woman's powers
late night hours
falling towers
jehovah jehovah
these flowers are novas
Jan 18, 2011
Jan 18, 2011 at 7:56 AM UTC
Galactic curls in spirals swirl, entwining twisted mystery,
where time unrolls in blackened holes, no longer bright and blistery,
but writ like runes on starry dunes enclosed in cosmic history
Galactic dust, from novas' gusts, congesting empty spaces
once fatefully flung beyond the tongue of burnt out astral traces,
may recompress and coalesce in distant times and places
Galactic dwarves, like ancient wharves with silent planets mooring
yet still in spin though long done in, hide flares no longer soaring -
magnetic webs of eons ebb, in thermal fusion roaring
Galactic tides warp space divides, call forth sublime creation
while bending clocks in rippled shocks, unfolding time dilation
that seems to crown the flowing gown of pulsars' pulsed gyration
Galactic stew, a seething brew, midst background noise and chatter
like Chaos reigns, the sole remains of missing antimatter,
with just a trace to form a space-time, curved or somewhat flatter
Galactic glue holds something new: dark energy and matter
that interacts and counteracts the ancient Big Bang splatter:
a cosmic soup of strings and loops, a universal batter
Galactic life's replete and rife 'neath lactic milky wafer,
though solar gales leave unseen trails of cosmic rays, the strafer;
but nonetheless, one must confess, it seems there's nowhere safer
Aug 21, 2016
Aug 21, 2016 at 8:54 AM UTC
my love is that love
swerving in novas, gobsmacked and gibbering...
a funky cuss of lust
oblong in the short run
sprinting to horizons of forgotten doves;
cooling heel and grind-
in peat moss
of mauve thoughts; so lurid you could find them
in pitch dark.
my love is the love
that chinks your armor.
the soft clang of a raging Kismet
port of your starboard !
i am in love with you
and this thing
is "mostly harmless "
Jan 14, 2013
Jan 14, 2013 at 2:28 PM UTC
O Douro na sua plenitude
Quando me levantei, senti aquele sentido odor de uma linda manhã de primavera. Os pintassilgos entoavam uma melodia que me ajudou a encarar o dia com mais serenidade e encanto. Olhei para este meu horizonte que se estende num infinito lonquinquo que parece estar ali para ser sempre contemplado e amado.
Que Douro sublime excelso de ser pintado por expressionistas e cantado em versos pelos nossos poetas que não deixam de o servir e o idolatrar. Desde menino que eu ganhei uma consciência duriense que nem com a morte ninguém ma irá roubar. Não me canso de tentar perceber o xisto em harmonia, complexo e eternizado com estes lindos muros que parecem até nem serem feitos por pedreiros terrenos mas sim por anjos do bom Deus que por aqui quis passar.
Casebres abandonados e fornos de secar os figos continuam na paisagem duriense vivos e ao mesmo tempo parecem sepultados para sempre no cemitério dum rio Douro que se embala num Rabelo de outrora.
As videiras imponentes parecem ressuscitar todos os anos pela altura da Páscoa. Que beleza sentir e amar um Deus vivo que bebeu o vinho para nos mostrar seu amor e assim dignificar todos aqueles que se dedicam a tão nobre tarefa. Toda a vegetação duriense exala perfume, permitindo ao homem encontrar aqui um paraíso terreno e ao mesmo tempo um purgatório disperso nos patamares onde vinhas, oliveiras, amendoeiras, figueiras, laranjeiras, sobreiros, torgas e giestas coabitam.
Quem fala do Douro sublime não pode deixar de olhar para os rostos de suas gentes. Parece até que não sabem amar mais nada, nem mais nada fazer. ...
Um saber acumulado de gerações é um legado de arte de bem-fazer vinho aliado a novas técnicas utilizadas por enólogos sedentos de fazerem dos vinhos do Douro os melhores do mundo.
O Douro corre sem correrias. É meigo com seu leito. As vinhas bebem suavemente de suas águas doces. Nós que aprendemos com o brilho do pôr-do-sol, que parece um verniz de esmalte que conforta crentes e não crentes.
O Douro que é de oiro está de deleite, de quarentena para nos ajudar a viver e a estar sempre perto da margem para embarcar na barca dum destino já traçado.
Victor Marques
Apr 10, 2014
Apr 10, 2014 at 8:31 AM UTC
Drinking *** to reminisce about fun times drinking *** and talking about dumb lines where a sociologist posed as an astronomer and took the moniker to heart claiming forbidden foolish nonsense of black holes and super novas and the Goddess that is Neptune. But he also forbade the odes of the old testament, he nicked the hold on my head and soul and feet until I couldn’t walk because I was too busy kicking my *** and licking my teeth with thoughts of dinner stolen from the solemn souls in the coral reefs – those that Neptune created and nurtured with nursing fingers and eyes that hid cruel truth from the water, the creatures that didn’t suffer the bite that God’s daughter took so long ago, but the flow of the current never ceases it never reaches the bleeding feet connecting repeatedly with the bottom that serves me to sit and think or **** about the gospel spilling from the hostel of the professor’s mouth. And I doubt the drought that lifted my spirits out of the well with the spout of Neptune’s ***** These days I’m on it with a sense of self-flagellation that only makes sense in the dimension of my imagination pondering the nation of the brotherhood of stars and heavenly bodies that weigh so heavy on Mars with the clingy core dragging desperate attention from divine inventions of intervention with rats and cradles. Neptune, who’s cradled in fables and left to such imaginations as those. Invention allows the suspension of disbelief and spite if one might rest in humility in face of such things as humanity where miracles are mistreated and under-recognized and falsely advertised as products of greedy eyes that lie in wait to shake the foundation and tune it to the stellar station or broadcast populated by the whispers of holy apparitions misconstrued as static.
Jacob is the heathen with reason to grasp his brother’s heel and deceive him. The treason to sit up to stand down to kiss the hem of the gown of whatever clown performs a pretty act while he’s in town. The frowns expound and expand for the man whose body spans the sand of the holy land.
Sep 5, 2012
Sep 5, 2012 at 11:34 PM UTC
.
*Musical brush strokes paint
the pink honey moon
full and bright ;
the melody wafts lightly
with a sensual scent
of Jasmine fleur
Lonely hearts sip the sky’s
lambent elixir’s gentle persuasion
from separately dispersed novas
the perennial blossom of the perpetual tide .., .
merely pined moonlight
Immersing wholly in wistful reflection
alight on wellspring emerald pond
Verily unspoken words cavort
like musical rivulets spiraling flow
into the crystalline echo
Luna’s haloed heavenly sighs ,
emanation bestrewn
shimmering through dark nebula
like shooting stars shattered
by the weight
of their darkest radiance,
echoes upon the tide-less mirror pond
the nimbus of moonlight
imbuing all the ways I want you* . . .
wild is the wind ...© 6.17.2015
Feb 25, 2016
Feb 25, 2016 at 12:53 PM UTC
Births and deaths
Debts and success
Floods and droughts
Cyclones and hurricanes
Earthquakes and tsunamis
Misery
Chaos and serenity
All in flux
Milling about
Constant movement
Constant din
Silence within
Raging against
the dry dry winds.
Another restless moment
in the universe
Stars are born
go cold and die
Galaxies collide
Black holes
hold
no return
Super Novas
bring silence
to light years
eons wide
Another restless day
on the planet
in this our
moment of time
in this our place
in the universe.
Apr 1, 2016
Apr 1, 2016 at 10:34 AM UTC
Ripped open, bleeding the stardust of the heavens.
You were the comet, bright and brillant blue, coming to stitch up my wounds.
I was saved, not with antiseptic or morphine but the healing rush of your lips.
Electricity pulses from your tongue brought me back to life.
I found Orion’s Belt, you were my North Star.
Super novas collapsed in my lungs when I looked into your moon filled eyes.
I was the waves, under your spell I couldn’t fight the tide.
When you held my hand and said forever Haley’s Comet burst forth from my limbs and
I became a red blossomed nebula.
Yours, infinitely.
Feb 27, 2013
Feb 27, 2013 at 12:34 AM UTC
A dark Cloud of obscure atoms swirl around in Brownian chaos..
Time's a bit different ere.. Eons but a flit on tis clock..
Quantum effects play poker probability,
gravity the sinister Attractor ..
The cloud congeals, darker still than b'fore..
Attraction, it's nature Hot and crushing at primeval depths..
Ignites a fire so deep, fuses the insides at the wave level..
Particles unite, merge into each other,
becoming something new altogether..
Out pushes the brightest light the universe's seen..
The light of God, searing, nourishing and warm ..
drawn out of the breaking, fusing hearts,
Ignites Life on a distant Rock..
The cloud now a big Star..
Observes in rapture as Life grows from infancy to Damsel in frenzy... She Remembers the ancient pattern, dances around in fatal Attraction.. Fornicating, Merging, consuming, birthing in Heat..
Blues fade into greens, white streaks surround browns ..
Colours pulsing, coursing in a ballet..
Star is hypnotic, it watches..
********** a flare or two at ecstatic moments...
Smitten by Attraction, Star wants to hold Life to its passion..
Can't bear the distance tween the two..
It burns and turns, curious quarks, neutrinos play havoc inside,
turn Helium to Dark Carbon..
The Star sickened of burning and watching for Gods years,
spreads it's arms to hold Life in its magnetic swarms..
It's million Kelvins approaching in Love, Blow Dry Life,
Evaporate the tiny blue Rock..
Star muddled by tis sudden development,
can't put its tendril to why tis happened..
It's heart broken, embraces empty space,
where Life pirouetted a few ages ago..
burns all the more, turns Carbon to Heavy Iron
and novas in green, orange and gold.
The dust settles,
Star now a mere smoldering lump of Neutron..
Looks in the dark depths in feeble ruddy light,
pulsing out signals to find its beloved Life.
Rueing on the beauty that was..
Destined to wait..
For the Clouds to congeal again..
Jun 21, 2016
Jun 21, 2016 at 12:55 AM UTC
You want to love me.
You want to taste my fear,
and cure
my insecurity.
What you hold about me
seems dear
when it's in your pocket
and
close.
as a child
when the ice-cream truck rolls around.
The looping rhythm
of every day
is a clear sign
that you
need to move
and hold me more.
I **** your *******
lap at your legs,
crumble in your words,
erupt in your anger,
and you think I need you,
and I relish
in you needing that
needing.
But then the need bites,
rips,
destroys,
and the black hole of our apartment
is reality
when you sleep
and hear me snore.
You know that i will get fat
when I am older,
and I know that you will slowly
become bitter
as raspberries;
Me thinking you're ripe
and perfect,
when you're holding in so much
and don't
even
know
it.
Don't touch
those broken stars.
Don't try to cup
my nebulas
in your hands,
or grip
my exploding novas
into concrete baseballs.
They cannot be hurled into oblivion
to make a sizeable dent
in eternity.
They burn
and crush you.
And I whiff
at your beautiful pitches.
Your words crumble,
and slither,
when they are meant
to soothe
and restructure.
My love
is horrible,
stupid,
and placating,
because I made ramen noodles for two
and you ate them
because it was a sweet thing to do
and that was the only reason
you ate them.
On the way down,
those noodles say that my love
is the best love,
but poison
in your gut.
Aug 3, 2012
Aug 3, 2012 at 11:14 PM UTC
From a vague eye, looking up from earth;
I am a soft glisten.
Like the stars which gracefully twinkle on high above.
But study me, look further into my eyes.
And you will see the vastness of my soul.
You will notice the destructive explosions and super novas going on inside my mind.
The beautiful lifelessness that somehow brings life.
Notice how I constantly collapse into myself like a black-hole.
Notice how my atoms continously collide and fuse, giving birth and death to my stars.
Do not be misled by my softness.
I am the night sky
Sep 5, 2018
Sep 5, 2018 at 4:22 AM UTC
There’s a rumbling a-coming
And yet I build my dreams from glass;
I hope you’ll peer through to find my face
Through the fancy, frosted, crystalline patterns.
You blew sparks into me that became novas;
Now they fuel my beaming eyes in the melt.
Watch as sands of time are blown into fragile fantasies
And yesterday’s memories twist their colors
Into improbable dragons and stars of tomorrows.
Glimpse me through my new frail fortress.
Keep watch as I hang tiny galaxies in the rafters.
These walls are your windows.
Use them well,
For the rumbling’s a-coming,
And I might need a savior
Who knows my dreaming face.
Dec 30, 2012
Dec 30, 2012 at 8:27 PM UTC
A desolate dying star
burns bright
Hot is its surface
Warming the night
Dence is its mass
As it pulls at the stars
Orbiting around it
Self conscious of scars
The white dwarfs watched
Listened and learned
As the dying star taught
Of a death well earned
Amongst dwarfs and novas
The star radiated wisdom
Passing down secrets
Until it's implosion
Sinking
Into
The fabric
Of space
Leaving
A dark black hole
Pulling at the stars
Still burning bright
The continuum
Holds its soul
May 2, 2014
May 2, 2014 at 10:51 PM UTC
piqued into a new glowing,
I strain at my bonds
shake the slick ribbon
of doubt
from around my mouth
sit on my hands
to keep from shaking
A storm is gathering within
my center
the hot pink light emanating
from between my thighs
fuchsia slicing through
moonlight
I look up
and drink in the milk
of the stars
I am ready.
to break through
time and space
mini-novas flying
'round my head
like spinning angels
iridescent dust,
rising in slow motion
dragonfly confetti
in my hair
eyes a-light from
aurora borealis
Vulnerable by choice,
I stand my ground
push through rope and burlap
without mercy, for
burns do not matter
anymore
explode up and out
my soul's entry parts
wide open
I welcome the universe
letting the growing
inside, taking force
having its way with me
spidery vines twirling through
my ribcage
around my spine
the seeds I have planted
now pushing flowerbursts
through my heart
a bloom
for each beat
reflecting magenta
I had been sitting there
way too long
bound to this chair
my arms pinned harshly
by the wire
now I run with
my private wolf
head back
howling like the
wind,
hair wild
like the untamed
journey
of my
soul
Mar 24, 2018
Mar 24, 2018 at 11:36 AM UTC
O tempo é escasso e o espaço, amplo.
O prazo é laço e engancha o pampo**.
o BERRO é surdo sem algum alcance
pra que o ouvido mudo do Universo dance.
Galanteiam nebulosas em destino infante
e trazem, ao eterno, singular instante.
Cada transição traçada a que avance
é passo dado em falso a fortuito lance.
Aferir feridas de um pleno plano
levará o homem a estado insano:
a narcose de saber um objeto nulo.
Na movimentação estática do engano,
toda teoria traz na cura um dano
entoado na garganta que, portanto, engulo.
* bestia cupidissima rerum novarum - animal ansiosíssimo por coisas novas.
**Pampo - rebento tardio de cana de açucar: pampos de cana caiana (Dicionário UNESP do Português contemporâneo)
Sep 8, 2010
Sep 8, 2010 at 5:05 AM UTC
i hear the sounds of
banshee screams
like series of unruly
crime scenes.
they call to me,
and as if god
himself stabbed me,
i shatter.
but oh they call to me, and if i were to not listen,
i would be struck down by spears of novas.
so i tug on starlight,
and chant:
why is it that i can't
cross the cursed crossing ?
it is the silicon veil
dear god i am the shadow's blossoming
Jan 11, 2015
Jan 11, 2015 at 4:40 PM UTC
I am running... into a tunnel that seems to be nothing but a galaxy of voices
Echo the stars into its shooting state, for I chose to ignore their choices
Comets have left their trace, But like an icy breath, their existence goes extinct
Cover my ears! For their twinkling whispers of constellations will never predict
The future laid aside for this black hole Dreamer. For I have disposed the old axis
The dwarfs of my outter life I have chosen to betray, I need a morphallaxis
Soften my core with an after glow ripple of silence, and open up wisdom through the coronal holes
Cover My Ears! I only listen to the language of the Solar winds. It understands my soul
My planet has enough craters... No more damage shall be done. I am the mistress of dark matter
My past and memories have been dipped in the light of a lunar eclipse, it's blood scatters
Only within a Large field of view can I recognize it's purpose. Not through men's atmosphere
Cover My Ears! I must deal with these super clusters of instincts alone. Now and Here
The Super Novas have no sensitivity to the relationship of Outer Space and Precious moments
Gravity is quick to make me stumble...So now I beg the Novas to no longer see me as an opponent
My life has been spilt into two hemispheres. Meteors shower down, destroying every Neutron Star
Cover My Ears! For only my eyes will notice the Satellite from afar
Where is my home? The milky way? The singularity of my black hole had ****** me in
Please someone! Anyone! Flare me away at the speed of light! No longer do I wish to be a captive of sin
Once blinded by the Oort cloud, But praise the Nebula's, I am now a T-Tauri of a young force and desire
Cover My Ears! Oh Zeinth! So I may focus on your celestial point of view. Your rays are my purifier.
Cover My Ears...
Jan 31, 2018
Jan 31, 2018 at 8:15 AM UTC
We pantomime our sumptuous dirge
That has never known a chord without novas
Or a Nocturne of phrase
Charmed into glissandos
gilded as galaxies
of gossamer, awestruck Thought...
And now
These Arias are all of Us -
Phosphorus Dirth-worms
In dead white apples
In a Cave.
Our elusive orchestra
Polished by ambient clay
To gleam forsaken
and redeemed
Has often curved the flat space
Between The Mystery
And No Church -
Listen
And the melodies
Decipher
The delicate heresies of Love
That you make
With your bare hands
And our separate Hells'
Are but one Heaven
The Devil has to See
To Believe.
Oct 17, 2012
Oct 17, 2012 at 11:07 AM UTC
Novas Sensações
No paraíso das emoções,
Divago com melodias sentimentais.
Enalteço novas sensações,
Desde que não sejam iguais.
Turbulência agridoce,
Sentimento inter-activo,
Artista inibido,
Autêntico sempre eu fosse.
Segredo bem guardado,
Odor das flores.
Sentir e ser amado,
Sensações e cores.
Cordiais Cumprimentos.
Victor Marques
Jan 1, 2011
Jan 1, 2011 at 10:05 AM UTC
Imagine, for this night, you are the queen of Fairy Tale land.
I, too, am a prince, from Make-Believe kingdom.
From beyond our cocooned proximity,
the night shimmers in, and thickens to a silken thread of moonlight
that the crone will soon spindle into her never-ending story
of billion constellations, both seen and unseen
by naked, desperate novas.
We, entwined, like the roots under a rabid rainforest,
pale as innocence, battering feverishly against the stones for ever afters,
seize Avalon, and reject Camelot.
The canopy of fireflies synchronises in raw euphoria,
a rebel Excalibur.
The wind matures around us.
Tomorrow may be an inevitable notion,
but my queen of Fairy Tale land,
my sword, shield, bow, toothbrush, unicorn,
worn-out copy of The Arabian Nights,
all lay bare before your lion throne.
This world was once a crevice between fire and ice.
Fire and ice run in our veins,
from me to you and back into the realm of drunken faeries,
where the bumblebee heart of the day
is yet to ignite the pomegranate sky.
Feb 17, 2017
Feb 17, 2017 at 1:37 PM UTC
skin in circles spike like super
novas
down in the hall
there’s no lights and all
i see is sparks
skull sober. no wonder.
just a change of pace.. lord..
a savior full of grace
dust to desolation
mimic or degrade him
we all need some saving
these days of exaltation
Jan 10, 2014
Jan 10, 2014 at 4:34 AM UTC