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

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 "*******" to redundance

nah

super novas
seeding flowers
a woman's powers
late night hours
falling towers
jehovah jehovah
these flowers are novas

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

You are a thief,
You go around committing mischief,
You fill women’s hearts with unwholesome grief,
You make men’s lives short and painfully brief.

l - DELÍRIOS ORGIÁSTICOS & ASTRAIS
    
    Participei da festa de Dionísio & as grandes estátuas de Leão plasmático, ergueram – se sobre a Terra. O precipício & o primeiro sinal da despedida cantando juntos a trilha sonora da invasão dos Profetas urrando a serviço das letras. Para todo o sempre o trono partido por ninfas histéricas! Crises contra o amuleto. Gnose fumacê participando celebrando a queda das pirâmides. Alquimistas do Verbo cantem o grito profano da Inquisição! Os sete pergaminhos caíram semeando a destruição da pedra Xamânica. Diadorim buscando solução em Fausto & Orfeu...? (inaudível psicopatia irradiada na vestimenta da alma). Exagerados, contemplavam mensagens infernais de Blake em vozes imagens melancólicas de Rimbaud. Logo as marés baixaram & sobre as ondas a Lua levitava em direção ao rugido do fogo; Dionísio em chamas bacantes! Ausência da queda no tempestuoso ninho levando aos portais da tormenta. Sete anjos cantando o mantra da lágrima metamorfoseada em dor.                                                             ­       
   Dionísio em voz de trovão: Oh! Se a voz do Tudo emanar a língua em torpor saqueando o princípio da guerra; Quando os sentidos estão sacudidos & a alma está dirigindo- se à loucura; quem pode permanecer? Quando as almas estiverem aprisionadas, lutando contra as revoltas do ar, na cor do som, quem poderá permanecer? Quando a brisa da fúria vier da garganta de Deus, quando as fábulas da persistência guiarem as nações, quem poderá permanecer?
    
    Quando baladarem o pecado, acabarem na batalha & navios dançarem em volta do último regozijo no espaço da morte: quando as almas estiverem embriagadas no fogo eterno & os amigos do inferno beberem antes do traço do infinito: Oh! quem poderá permanecer? Quem pode causar isto? Oh! Quem poderá responder diante do trono de Deus? Os Reis & os nobres poetas malditos repousando na caverna por dois séculos, têm permanecido?
    Não escutem, mas o Grito leva à ponte do não-ouvir. Não escutem, mas prazeres congestionados devem esperar. Amanhã. Só amanhã pensando se o tempo foge ao futuro ou se as árvores choram no Tempo & o Vento cantando a antiga canção da essência. A Terra deve esperar as lendas memoráveis sentindo passado & liberdade entre velhas histórias do coração descompassado em dia de vitória movendo ilusões da criação do mundo. Nem um sorriso noturno tremendo escrevendo cartas no oceano desejando amar & morrer ébrio no mar sonoro! Vamos celebrar sua dor& as novas despedidas & as páginas manchadas no lago desespero procurando asas no inferno análogo à soberba contemplando como um feiticeiro histórias orgiásticas em dias perdidos!
||- IMPRESSÕES DO INFINITO
Pequena ninfa exala virtude
Nova percepção é velha chuva
Intrépido céu em força à beira da tormenta
Tempo escasso frente do Tudo!
    Paradoxo abissal em finais absurdos. Doutrinas anti-socráticas poeira do nada embebecido forjado  para a volta. Um caminho é serpente fria salto com Ícaro destoando nobre silêncio ainda que duas palavras atravessem é sinal mágico psiconitróide em míticos fragmentos complexos da grande barriga virtual grande momento, enfim personagens pensantes na corrente capital ilustre ideológica. Nietzsche disse: “ não a intensidade, mas a constância das impressões superiores é que produz os homens superiores”. Dionísio ausente sibilo missionário resquício da grande tempestade transformando nada em músicas eternas músicas pós-Tudo música póstuma aquém de princípios de aura. É grande o Banquete na eternidade alucinógena da erva platônica. Lembranças unidas outras vidas presentes no barulho da dor. A carruagem sem asas foi  o veículo de Dante no purgatório encontrando Beatriz dito anjo de pele sutil com olhos da noite. Ou não. O primeiro grito do mundo foi o verbo, a morte do mundo foi a palavra.

    Acostumei a encontrar palavras atravessando o outro lado realizando caótico passo ao começo do ato simétrico pairando no ar buscando Tudo. Se a palavra antes fim fosse real sem ser palavra psia apenas causadora empírica dos dilemas tristes recortes de outrora pigmentados sem nome em precipício do fim! A ilha colorida geme! É o sinal da passagem da vida filosofal alfa poética plenos estados iluminados na sombra abissal de Rimbaud em crise  de riso & esquecimento sendo expulso da fumaça purgatório vivendo entre o sagrado & o profano com queda para o profano escutando vozes em terríveis silêncios metapsicofísicos abundantes pausas noturnas no vôo da maré. Salve a iluminação mágica fixada na irradiação transcendenastral! Dissonâncias filosóficas,  venham todos! Lamentos proféticos entorpecidos beberei do seu vinho! Indício do apocalipse! Profana histeria caótica levando a contatos xamânicos primitivos míticos em desertos & portais circulares!
             Serei eternamente condenado ao arco-íris do absoluto infinito!

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 "

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

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.

.
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

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.

You want to love me.

You want  to ******* 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.

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..

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.

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

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

a bit over a year of efforts, I
admirably

return your stubborn affections, directing romantic intentions towards you.

with your heart

Exalted in the remembrance of your existence, I

sigh towards the heavens,
the hells,
the Earth with her mountainous regions and varied terrains,

the sky and her innumerable
galaxies and novas should come hither and listen to the treasure of a lover. I

sigh

the miracle

of your name,

as though it were the answer to every question that has ever mattered.

I weep as the layers of my heart tighten at the sound of your sorrow, it constricts and feels to twist and rob me of senses and oxygen.

please smile and gift that treasured breath of air into my lungs.

should I now mention, that
for some inexplicable reason,

I love you?

Find comfort in my voice.
Feel free to unravel tears of the hardships endured in this life's trials, upon my shoulder

as I do my best to gently recover the fallen shards of every loss you've suffered, with my tender hands and your sharpened memories we'd find a way to salvage the most of these losses.

let me adorn your scar filled soul with a balm of my own making.

let me bring you
a sea of solace to delve into.

Would an infinite caress of kisses, a tsunami of age old yearnings and present desires satisfy your crave for love?

Would I need another person to fill the shoes you decorate the doorstep of my heart with?

With the place mat adorned with an intricately designed Persian rug which display a blooming garden of both our favourite flowers in a way that'd perfect the unusual combination of my tropical forests and your poetic love of romantic flora.

A sight, regardless of how many times seen encases the onlooker in a feeling of love and comfort.

It will say,

" Welcome home my love "

And there will be song birds in the trees,
there will be wind dancing with leaves,

On the eve of summer I will snuggle myself near you, to muster the courage to read you the poetry I'd written all before we'd made it known to those who mattered that we belonged to the other.

Friendly reminder that,

I love you.

And the answer to needing anyone aside from you?

The answer is no.

No one can amount to the endless stream of shooting stars you give me to wish upon, and for you to make a reality.

No one else,
can say my name with such reverence,

that to any who didn't know about us,

my name alone seemed to be one of the most holy and savored of things?

To whisper on a night of troubled sleep as your fingers weave their way to mine, interlocking and silently promise to never let go of this.

This overflowing love..

Why wouldn't I want to keep it?

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

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.

Dearest oh nathaniel,

what's that i hear?

when dusk cloaks the infinite shade of dark blue

spilling out of your wavering frown

a cuss word?

no it's

a whimper, a merciful

cry for help.



it starts out small,

not like baby steps - in fact, far from it

it's gargantuan like that giant from that fairy tale

that you yearn to reside in

and it crescendos into a melancholy howl

just like the werewolves in

little red riding hood.



under the shadows of your abode

inside the head full of numbers

all red ink ;  no pity

leering and lashing like corrected mistakes

from those animals

who solely came for the bread.



let me extricate you

no sweetie i won't fold you

to fit into a rabbit hole

you're not alice most definitely

you are already a minuscule caricature

the ones i doodle on my foolscap pad during maths

with bigger objectives and a yellow brick road

full of life

much animated than the

musical numbers

i sing in your ear

when you're

dozing off in chemistry

your crooked nose peeking out from underneath your folded arms

twitching at the notes strung together with lines of amusement and pure merriment

dearest oh nathaniel, you don't resemble Pinnochio.



instead i'll urge you to wear that glass slipper

slip it on quick and

leave a vestige

of gingerbread crumbs

that is

ineradicable and incontestable

like your heart

pure and gold

not from all those lessons in church

but from those involuntary explorations

into the never-ending sky.



and your tirades about

this school and society

that kaleidoscope in your eyes

unravelling like Rapunzel's locks

to form that opinionated you

they're part of

our counter attacks

on the Indian Ocean

all ephemeral

no aftertaste

of distaste

for it's peppered with

jest and zest.



our midnight discussions about feminism

and the women who fought in wars

they extol you from heaven

for your open-minded sentiment

they might say to me

in a hushed, demure tone

that he's like the pea

the princess eventually

found

concealed amongst

perpetuated mattresses.



the ugly duckling

did spin into ethereal

as time is of the essence

so don't compare yourself against

your friends

gymming isn't even a word

sprawled upon

online dictionaries

dearest oh nathaniel, i don't have to thumb through the dictionaries

to know that you're oh-so wrong.



desist from the self-inflicted loathe

it doesn't pain me

for i'll still love

you

unconditionally

but for the sake of your sanity

halt all the macabre,

grim, gore

and

ghoul.



dearest oh nathaniel,

your smile is a

sworn clandestine

evoking a swoon

and a creak from my

rusty knees

a poignant mess

enmeshed into

a human manifestation

of super novas

amalgamated together

hypnotizing me into

deep slumber

without the ***** of a

sewing needle.



let me sweep all those

poor lies

and false hopes

unlike Aladdin's

under a magic carpet

and try to lift the corners

of your mouth skyward

however i'm no

puppeteer and i don't see

no strings attached

so my endeavours

may be futile

but your laugh

jesus christ

it resonates on a tenfold

with the metal songs

buzzing out of your earpieces

that resonate deeply

with that

"cold heart"

that you claim

to be

yours

and i hold on to

it like dear life,

dearest oh nathaniel.



dearest oh nathaniel,

for you shall see

that

decampment isn't

the easy way out

because the

emblem of

you

will be scattered

around the

asphalt

frisking and skittish.



like what i've

said

i won't fold you to fit into

my pocket

neither will i

drop you into

the sea

i am that lighthouse

stationary

though

luminous in

the falling mist

and

rising fog.



dearest oh nathaniel,

what is that i hear?

no it's certainly

not a merciful

cry for help.



it's not a

battle cry

or a

symphony

dearest oh nathaniel, don't be a fool.



it's you

unabridged

in sheer

rapture.



dearest oh nathaniel,

i'm talking to you.

**| dearest oh nathaniel - m.m |

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

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.

Do stars gather every night
For this dear mortal to absorb their delight?
Does their light patiently travel all those miles
Only for these eyes to absorb them with smiles?

Gravity of Force, gravity of Love
I wonder how much stardust twinkles in my ****** glove.

Grab a plate
Grab a drink
Fly if need be
Allow your thoughts to levitate among stars
Go outside and accompany them
Despite their countless numbers
Always being present
As if waiting for me to accompany them
As if without me they're incomplete
Happily flickering when they see me
Wanting me to be part of their story

Twinkling novas and dancing nebulas
Stars probably say, "there's Earth again, a merry go round, humans hide among rooftops and ground"
Numerous or singular, planetary or nebular
Human dust or stardust, neither of this matters
Humans in days, stars in miles
We all stories in the end

Eyes are windows of the soul,
Stars are windows of the universe abode
God's winking morse code
"Hi there, I see you"
Stars or souls, we're all stories in the end

Made in images of our Creator
So much so, even neuron clusters in human brains
Have similiar visual patterns of galactic clusters in heavenly terrain.

Sapiens city lights, interstellar starlights
So close, yet also, so far away
Sometimes I feel YHWH's eyes on me
The many, many thousands of starry eyes
As if God's out there and I'm just stardust
But YHWH is everywhere
Just like starry eyes

Gravity of Force, gravity of Love
I'm in God's story 'till the end.

Your heels always hit the ground first and years later
thats how you learned how to run
you kicked up so much dirt that
the debris from your detour clings to your lashes
cradles your eyelids
you've become a whole new kind of transparency.
glazed and spaced, tell me when your shoes became the only thing
unlaced
tell me the next shade up in opaque and I'll superimpose you if it would make the slightest difference
in your distorted disposition
you're aware of your capacity of scarred composition but you say hey,
it's better than plain vacancy, well
I want to shake the coiled novas nestled between your temples so that the air
can be polluted with something beautiful for a change, I know that love
is just a futile prescription that you're immune to
but I still pray it's something
you'll get used to
I want your antics to stride past exposed bones so maybe I can pave
a fractured thought of my own
I want your second hand smoke
to inhale
a sweet exhale
of your mind, in the shape of O's that linger from tolks
this room is white like clean coke and
stained white with clean coke and
when I swallow so much shadow that I too
become a ghost, just know that I
am only malleable
but not the only thing you're able to
control

Matter.
Just matter.
Microscopic dust particles on earths surface.
My significance in this universe of galaxies, super novas and giant stars is hard to comprehend when a single thought is able to consume my every waking moment.
That thought?
I'm insignificant.

some of the dryness will bleach from pithing
your noetic strands and the rest, a ****
prinked rind deluded.

i dip cupped hands into the lowlands, scraping
fractal mold flakes captioned, answers in light
crowded lenses.

cubic rift, that, i will toss adoration engines,
in the end, the goddess of substance will
not react.

not retrace, not the rift. mortaled caper,
inflection of the flats, grinded
reactions. grinding thoughts
grounded.

scribbled to-dos spreading forth, immurdered.
tokenized spice cabinets, enter rift
refuge. the caper collapses on molar-novas,
solar lepidoptera folding in your hair.

the sweat-between-us hive. the separatist mind.
salt mines alarm us, a subject deepened
between two gestures. have you the stratum
of intention?

germinal grains, embryonic clock tower -
mineral lies don timescales
tucked in our hereafter mattress.

i will deathlessly dry with a towel
unless i’m showering with it, a full commit
to the status kiss.

[after all that, you still love me,
in the bedlam trees the choral key,
the old oak door embroidery
are pieces of me scattered (spelled) naturally.]

Sabe, quando te avistei naquela ensolarada tarde de junho, fiquei totalmente perplexo, a maneira que seus longos cabelos caiam nos seus ombros, como as sardas no seu rosto formavam a mais bela constelação, ou a maneira que você falava sobre a poluição e como o aquecimento global iria acabar com o mundo.

Eu nunca fui uma pessoa muito idealizadora, ou que tinha sonhos grandes, sempre me contentei com pouco ou quase nada, sempre fiquei feliz em ficar no banco de reservas. Mas no momento em que suas palavras tão entusiasmadas e caóticas entraram no meu cérebro e o atingiram como o mais brutal acidente automobilístico da historia, eu pensei: Eu quero salvar a todos, eu quero ser um astronauta e colonizar o espaço, descobrir novas coisas além do espaço entre a minha cama e o interruptor do quarto.

Aquela sensação maravilhosa durou apenas alguns segundos, e logo, a maldita insegurança voltou, me sentia humano novamente, e dessa vez tinha muito mais medo, tinha medo que não salvaria a ninguém, que não conseguiria fazer nada.
Fechei os olhos, e em um misto de angustia e medo pensei: Mesmo que eu não salve a todos, eu ficaria feliz em apenas te salvar, porque acho que te amo, sabe?

What could make a world so cold
That it prevents a heart from being bold
Strip it down, so it can be bought and sold
Love conquers all, or so we are told

The heart was surrounded by fences
Tearing them down, you left me defenseless
Your eyes leave me in trances
Riddling my soul like ancient sphinxes

Like a garden of vibrant roses
Your beauty explodes like a thousand novas
As a phoenix rises from smoldering ashes
You lifted me above lifeless corpses

Out of a perfect dream, I suddenly awoke
From my chest poured a horrid smoke
As everything good began to choke
I realized my heart finally broke

Dropping to the floor and starting to crawl
In every direction an impassable wall
Your name I'd desperately call
Doesn't Love conquer all?