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"orbited" poems
like water I poured myself into her until she was overflowing at the brim like reinforced steel I bridged my heart to hers and welded myself to her soul like the sun I filled myself with light to cover her darkness like a blanket I shielded her from the harsh world underneath the covers like magnets I orbited her aura until we inevitably collided like a seed I felt myself growing up from her Then, like an idiot I could tell she felt nothing.
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Nov 26, 2018
Nov 26, 2018 at 1:47 PM UTC
like an idiot
It’s one of those nights where I miss the way you breathe out the stars when you laugh, freckling the sky’s velvet skin with drops of gold. Your lips were the sun which I orbited myself around and your eyes the moons which pulled my tides. The Milky Way that was your skin felt just like Heaven beneath my touch and your lips on mine ignited an incandescent supernova. And as I lay here now I think back to the black hole that collapsed our celestial world. All that we knew died. Not with a whimper, but with a bang
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Feb 23, 2015
Feb 23, 2015 at 8:45 PM UTC
i saw galaxies in your eyes
glamourous indie rock n' roll orbited our tiny kitchen as i kissed the nape of her neck. lauren sliced the avocados. i prepped the pasta. our neat little domestic life. her eyes would ignite mine, as she spoke of reinventing the world with her love. every word rang with perfect truth, for she had dissolved my callused heart, and focused my idiot head. and that night i lied in blankets of her mercy. as she licked the wicked wounds of complacent cruelty. i've never missed her more.
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May 22, 2010
May 22, 2010 at 8:43 PM UTC
lauren slicing avocados
I remember the first time I saw him. His radiance stole the breath from my lungs, as if I was outside the atmosphere. I got lost exploring the galaxies of his eyes, and I got pulled into his pupils like a pair of black holes. His smile revealed a cluster of bright stars. I wanted to explore his body, as if he was the surface of Mars. His laughter caused a supernova in my heart, the strength of his gravity could tear me apart. We danced and orbited each other all night, then we went home to learn about the Big Bang.
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May 2, 2017
May 2, 2017 at 11:18 AM UTC
Cosmic revelations
If our multiverse revolves around Our universe revolves around Our galaxy revolves around Our solar system revolves around Our sun. Which is orbited by the Earth (Which is orbited in turn by the moon and our space junk) Which is composed of people and continental plates and oceanic plates, all drifting around and bumping into one another Which are composed of molecules Which are composed of elements Which are composed of and are atoms Which are composed of protons and neutrons in the nucleus Which is orbited by spinning electrons that we can't even see, Who is to say we are not an atom to some greater being?
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Sep 23, 2012
Sep 23, 2012 at 7:52 PM UTC
revolutions orbits and compositions
I don't belong to myself. These atoms that frame Everything that I am Aren't even mine. These cells don't especial My small being. Because they belong To the extinguished stars. They belong to the suns Around which orbited Planets of all shapes Of all matter, Around which orbited Their moons. I don't belong to myself I belong to the Extinguished Heavenly bodies Whose light probably Still travels, wandering, Lost without a source, Just like human souls. Every scintilla in my being Belongs to the dark abyss Of outer space, to the stars That once shined, to the stars That someday will, To the creatures we'll never Even know existed, To the creatures that will Never know we ever did. I don't belong to myself, Because the weight Of my body is and Forever will be Too heavy for my soul. - tjr
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Jun 23, 2016
Jun 23, 2016 at 7:39 AM UTC
Particles
Killed a moth on principle last night I saw it outside standing on my air-conditioning Then I found it inside after I turned my air-conditioning off Climbed in through the silent vent and orbited my light bulb l006 times Before I killed it with a sock and whipped it one more time into the lamp’s brass base Almost saved a moth on principle last night Rationality’s a sham and you know it The moth said in the morning I found it clung to my lampshade, dead with white **** coming out from under a wing ripped in half Life is a sham we all share
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Aug 3, 2014
Aug 3, 2014 at 11:12 AM UTC
Faith of an Act
She was a crescent moon never completely lit She imagined someone out there would find her and strike a match She never considered it might hurt This moon hid from most things She orbited around a planet that was so unfamiliar to her She knew others like her existed galaxies away It made her feel both lonely and special. The moon befriended stars She sometimes wished she was small and bright and fleeting But she was large and slow One day one of the stars started mocking the moon with his light He would shine right in her eyes and tell her she was nothing The moon gradually grew smaller It only looked within itself with shame Finally, there was just a tiny spec The whole world burned.
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Oct 11, 2016
Oct 11, 2016 at 12:09 PM UTC
Moon
When my ear first orbited your throat to listen for a roaming balloon of nestled flesh I heard trailer home hollowness in copper vein pipes. You draped a scarf over your superglued neck, telling me it was normal to fistfight death at 35. On Dad’s desk, your weight breathed feebly inside a sandwich bag. At night its nuclear green cast Orions across our ceiling. I never knew what real stars looked like, while you had completely forgotten. Years later, in the dark of our 17-acre home, you handed me your thyroid in its bag swimming in opalescent fluid and you looked at Polaris for the first time, as that same glow painted the Big Dipper on neighboring snowbanks. I dropped the bag on the dry rot porch. We heard your cancer flatten to a deflated bicycle tire, sweating from death, watched through squinted eyes as its glow turned from hazardous neon to cinder. It dried in the moonlight, a forgotten, frostbitten raisin, and our eyes readjusted to the perpetuating darkness. I saw it then like a long constellation line connecting star to forehead. It had been a lie before, but the North Star is truly the brightest in the sky. We looked through its surface underneath the star’s skin to its heart space, and we realized that Polaris can only be seen when thin plastic holds inside damaged shadows of family dinners bathed in deionized salt, where I ponderously stared at the **** in your esophagus, drawn with knife like ruby crayon into office paper.
0
Dec 1, 2015
Dec 1, 2015 at 4:08 PM UTC
Polaris in a Plastic Bag
That 1 lengthy and detailed conversation we had as I fixed her a hot bubble bath, it was very necessary to figure out the pattern in which each of our souls orbited around one another's life. Life. It seems that in the seams of this biographical regime, we get lost in between 2 wings, steering without a true tale, leading with our beaks instead of our two feet. Finding elation through impatience. Determination to fly without defining our own matrix. At that particular time I just wanted to slowly sit your soft body down into that pool of lavender scented steamed water, but everything you had to say nearly drowned me. The invisible crown I continuously placed on your head suddenly vanished as my imagination panicked. I always thought that my mind was backed up by my heart which was backed up by your art. Oh how gentle you scribble. I have to erase line by line, direction by direction, affection by affection, disconnect on top off disconnection. Difficulties I'm having while looking at you lather but no longer seeing you in the picture. Watching you lave as you give me your take on how our relationship was shaped was a bit unfitting. In my mind "it's inevitable that she's open for bidding". I'm lounged against the sink in a bind. Bonded by your fondness, then detached by your honest responses. How blunt you are and how drunk I'm soon to be. Wasted vibrations, my mouth began to tremble. Somehow I find an idea to cause the both of us to tickle. Temporary bliss. Moreover all of my hard efforts that night turned out to be the worst shift. I went from pleased to please. Expectedly you never tried to appease by appealing to my needs. Draining water like my decaying heart. Drying off reminds me of my suffocated feelings. Lotion as I drink this 40% potion. Hoping of hydrated coping. Can you leave? So I can shower, attempting to rinse away the most beautifully devastating hour.
0
Nov 2, 2016
Nov 2, 2016 at 12:34 AM UTC
What Baths Boil Down To
That 1 lengthy and detailed conversation we had as I fixed her a hot bubble bath, it was very necessary to figure out the pattern in which each of our souls orbited around one another's life. Life. It seems that in the seams of this biographical regime, we get lost in between 2 wings, steering without a true tale, leading with our beaks instead of our two feet. Finding elation through impatience. Determination to fly without defining our own matrix. At that particular time I just wanted to slowly sit your soft body down into that pool of lavender scented steamed water, but everything you had to say nearly drowned me. The invisible crown I continuously placed on your head suddenly vanished as my imagination panicked. I always thought that my mind was backed up by my heart which was backed up by your art. Oh how gentle you scribble. I have to erase line by line, direction by direction, affection by affection, disconnect on top off disconnection. Difficulties I'm having while looking at you lather but no longer seeing you in the picture. Watching you lave as you give me your take on how our relationship was shaped was a bit unfitting. In my mind "it's inevitable that she's open for bidding". I'm lounged against the sink in a bind. Bonded by your fondness, then detached by your honest responses. How blunt you are and how drunk I'm soon to be. Wasted vibrations, my mouth began to tremble. Somehow I find an idea to cause the both of us to tickle. Temporary bliss. Moreover all of my hard efforts that night turned out to be the worst shift. I went from pleased to please. Expectedly you never tried to appease by appealing to my needs. Draining water like my decaying heart. Drying off reminds me of my suffocated feelings. Lotion as I drink this 40% potion. Hoping of hydrated coping. Can you leave? So I can shower, attempting to rinse away the most beautifully devastating hour.
Continue reading...
1
When we walked our way into the night, I expected a galaxy to be laid out for us, bestowing a universal mistletoe for us. But there we were, counting whatever little bright spots we could find. Well, at least until I looked upon at you. Star filled eyes. Gods had something else planned in for me. I was finally gazing at those holy celestial bodies. As they orbited around your pupils and left me shaken. Yes, shaken. What kept me elated was the fact that you were there with me. But that evening only those lonely hands could meet, and not lips. But I swear I would've stayed a lifetime there if I could. *** I'm some serious **** and you got a nice derrière. - Aks, Interstellar Interconnection
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May 2, 2015
May 2, 2015 at 4:54 AM UTC
Interstellar Interconnections.
We once orbited the same light, mirrored as a faded sun within our own withered hearts, and fighting wretched gravity for the sake of each other's love. We now exist on parallel planets, waving politely in solar flares and burning black holes through the long, dark nights. I just wish you missed me too.
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May 26, 2016
May 26, 2016 at 9:55 PM UTC
Dark Nights
Above the welkin, many luminous orbs coruscate with perseveration. These disorganized celestial bodies emulate one another but their uneven rhythm is apparent to starry eyed observers. Eyes gazing fascinated by the unmeasurable exquisiteness that exists just beyond outstretched hands. As one beholder marveled the other closed disconsolate eyes and gravitated towards the tangible. It was in that moment that the steadfast watcher found what it was that they had been seeking. A falling star dropped just low enough that with desperate leaping and grasping it was within reach. The burning had not been accounted for. Nor had the sudden departure from the satellite that orbited just a little to close and had only the desire to emulate others with uneven rhythm.
0
Jun 5, 2012
Jun 5, 2012 at 12:14 AM UTC
Empyreal
Avrenim:  Log late 5155.  The moving planet of Raspen:        I passed through a planet in a section of the Raspen Galaxy I have never been before.  The planet was a moving steller body that did not orbit any sun.  It sustained its own energy through core-rifting.  Core-rifting was when a planet had mega chasms that were so deep the energy from the core could be felt on the surface. The planet was much larger than my home planet.  This planet must have been the size of my sun my planet orbited around.   The energy from the core would vent out into the atmosphere creating Light rifts in the sky.  Or should I say Sun slashes. Sun slashes are what brought the day to this strange moving planet.  A sun slash was light that was trapped inside of a reflective prism in this planets diamond like clouds.  If I am correct the cloud material here is called Solacian.  Solacian captures light an reflects it inside itself creating a sun slash.  The sun slash is the sun here. Depending on the angle of the captured light the sun slash will last about 31 hours.        The life here on this moving planet seems to live in a beautiful harmony.  It exist as energy at first and then becomes something entirely different.  The energy turns into oraganic bodies for a while then reverts back to its state of energetic divinity.  The energy then seems to melt in the Solacian clouds above.  I follow an energy mass into a cloud and watch a beautiful memory being lived out by an oraganism that once died long ago.  It brought me to tears when I found out that the organism did not know it had died so long ago.  Everything here had died some time ago.  But nothing here was sad. There was no anger or despair.  Only happiness, joy, love, and creation.  Could this be Anavrin!?          Anavrin could never be found. And it all makes sense now. It could never be found because it was always moving about the universe.  Anavrin in my culture is called Heaven.  Which brings me to my next question. Am I here for a reason.  I have no memory of dying. And what makes matters worse is that no one here does either.
0
Dec 18, 2018
Dec 18, 2018 at 4:30 PM UTC
Anavrin
Avrenim:  Log late 5155.  The moving planet of Raspen:        I passed through a planet in a section of the Raspen Galaxy I have never been before.  The planet was a moving steller body that did not orbit any sun.  It sustained its own energy through core-rifting.  Core-rifting was when a planet had mega chasms that were so deep the energy from the core could be felt on the surface. The planet was much larger than my home planet.  This planet must have been the size of my sun my planet orbited around.   The energy from the core would vent out into the atmosphere creating Light rifts in the sky.  Or should I say Sun slashes. Sun slashes are what brought the day to this strange moving planet.  A sun slash was light that was trapped inside of a reflective prism in this planets diamond like clouds.  If I am correct the cloud material here is called Solacian.  Solacian captures light an reflects it inside itself creating a sun slash.  The sun slash is the sun here. Depending on the angle of the captured light the sun slash will last about 31 hours.        The life here on this moving planet seems to live in a beautiful harmony.  It exist as energy at first and then becomes something entirely different.  The energy turns into oraganic bodies for a while then reverts back to its state of energetic divinity.  The energy then seems to melt in the Solacian clouds above.  I follow an energy mass into a cloud and watch a beautiful memory being lived out by an oraganism that once died long ago.  It brought me to tears when I found out that the organism did not know it had died so long ago.  Everything here had died some time ago.  But nothing here was sad. There was no anger or despair.  Only happiness, joy, love, and creation.  Could this be Anavrin!?          Anavrin could never be found. And it all makes sense now. It could never be found because it was always moving about the universe.  Anavrin in my culture is called Heaven.  Which brings me to my next question. Am I here for a reason.  I have no memory of dying. And what makes matters worse is that no one here does either.
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4
Orange blossom snow Garnished our crowns Now and again With fetal fruits Descended from Vibrantly quivering canopy That verdant galaxy Studded with snow white stars A-buzz with swollen satellites Sagging with sweet nectar and Golden dust They orbited Orange globes In search of Juicy gems from which to drink ~ Drunk and heavy now, They swam lazily from Bloom to bloom In the viscous afternoon Coaxing the aged Spices of the Sun To dislodge and drift Slowly to the Earth, Settling silently in heaps of Orange blossom snow
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Oct 19, 2014
Oct 19, 2014 at 2:05 AM UTC
Orange Blossom Snow
When I was young, my life was like music that was always getting louder Everything moved me A mother with her child That made me feel so much A homeless person sitting on the sidewalk holding out a ***** cup for some spare change I could have cried over it I did A calendar that displayed the wrong month The way the moon followed me everywhere I went How an unmade bed looked like home Where the smoke coming from the house across the street disappeared into the sky Frost on the window of my mother's car How the earth tirelessly orbited around the sun The way the city lights looked from afar I have spent my entire life learning to feel less Every single day I feel less Is that growing old? Or something worse? I suppose you cannot protect yourself from sadness without protecting yourself from happiness But how do you balance yourself between the two without forgetting how to feel altogether?
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Jan 2, 2014
Jan 2, 2014 at 12:22 PM UTC
Is Age Directly Related To How Much One Can Feel?
The only computer on board was Glenn’s brain, as he orbited up in the heavens. The heat shield was damaged and hung loose on the frame. His odds of survival were even. With faith placed in God; no time even to think Glenn began the flaming descent. Icarus or Daedalus; which would he be? Was Glenn’s luck still good or all spent? In the waters below the Navy stood watch, anxiously scanning the skies. His wife had been told she should expect the worst; The Mission head thought Glenn might die. There! A red parachute dotted the sky! The destroyer “Noe” sped to the scene. Not since Lucky Lindy had America had Such a hero who dared us to dream
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Dec 8, 2016
Dec 8, 2016 at 9:25 PM UTC
Friendship Seven- February 20, 1962 -Astronaut John Glenn
4 times the earth orbited the sun yet only once did you stop to see your shadow. 87,600 times it allowed you to second guess but you didn’t face it, just watched me sink right in. Sinking sands of committed hands brought pressure but no diamonds. No light to revolve around. Now I’m ticked off thinking this was a waste of my time. Not much of a leap, yeah?
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Jan 17, 2019
Jan 17, 2019 at 8:22 AM UTC
Used
The winter sky has always brought me an irreplaceable sense of tangible wonder Only this time, it was the stringing of melted words that I had been left to ponder Even as the night grew longer and I simultaneously ticked away with the earth, the steady beauty portrayed by the daggers which orbited above me- In the silence and chill Awed my fear into extinction (C) Tiffanie Doro
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Nov 23, 2013
Nov 23, 2013 at 11:57 PM UTC
The winter stars
At the genesis of eternity, Immortal love was born When Matahari and Bulan were born, Matahari is blazing fire; Bulan is black ice, The four seasons began their cycle According to the positions of Bulan and Matahari The conception of Fire and Ice Gave birth to time Matahari was born inert and golden, With a radiance which makes Bulan snow-white; Bulan would have been but a bleak bloat Of darkness without Matahari DEAR Matahari, our love is an airborne wisp; Swept and whirled by Nature, It flies in the air like a flight feather, With not a care About where its bearer takes it; Swaying in this, and that way Coincidence being rare, It is only at full moon, When I can trip upon your beam And gladly embrace the ‘Light of Honour’’ Oh, my dear Bulan; Our destiny was predetermined before creation Our love is not easy to nurture You have been the centre of my orbit, And I have orbited all my life, I dance around you Matahari, Oh how I would love to dance a tango with you! I have made myself vulnerable, And have laid myself bare before you. What effort have you made to reach out for me my love? I will not lament over the brevity of life, We are the elements of time, We are time itself my dear Each step I take as I orbit Gives birth to the second, Minute, Days, Months; And years I know eclipse is not enough Bulan, But in our helpless passion, I have chosen to shield you from my vehement desire; But have hurt you in trying to protect you. In my inertness I have chosen to give life, warmth and light. To give life is to love, But is to love to give? Matahari, It’s the pain of separation, There is a chimera chasing me, I wish it would catch up with me soon. It is a dream of us spiralling Into some convivial space of the universe, Dancing a tango It is a dream of you holding me close Unceasingly whispering endearments, And I, gasping, moaning; melting… Should the dream ever materialize? Can Fire ever dance with Ice? I do not know. Love is long-suffering, *Love is patient and kind, True love is immortal.
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Oct 29, 2015
Oct 29, 2015 at 7:10 AM UTC
AIR BORNE WISP
At the genesis of eternity, Immortal love was born When Matahari and Bulan were born, Matahari is blazing fire; Bulan is black ice, The four seasons began their cycle According to the positions of Bulan and Matahari The conception of Fire and Ice Gave birth to time Matahari was born inert and golden, With a radiance which makes Bulan snow-white; Bulan would have been but a bleak bloat Of darkness without Matahari DEAR Matahari, our love is an airborne wisp; Swept and whirled by Nature, It flies in the air like a flight feather, With not a care About where its bearer takes it; Swaying in this, and that way Coincidence being rare, It is only at full moon, When I can trip upon your beam And gladly embrace the ‘Light of Honour’’ Oh, my dear Bulan; Our destiny was predetermined before creation Our love is not easy to nurture You have been the centre of my orbit, And I have orbited all my life, I dance around you Matahari, Oh how I would love to dance a tango with you! I have made myself vulnerable, And have laid myself bare before you. What effort have you made to reach out for me my love? I will not lament over the brevity of life, We are the elements of time, We are time itself my dear Each step I take as I orbit Gives birth to the second, Minute, Days, Months; And years I know eclipse is not enough Bulan, But in our helpless passion, I have chosen to shield you from my vehement desire; But have hurt you in trying to protect you. In my inertness I have chosen to give life, warmth and light. To give life is to love, But is to love to give? Matahari, It’s the pain of separation, There is a chimera chasing me, I wish it would catch up with me soon. It is a dream of us spiralling Into some convivial space of the universe, Dancing a tango It is a dream of you holding me close Unceasingly whispering endearments, And I, gasping, moaning; melting… Should the dream ever materialize? Can Fire ever dance with Ice? I do not know. Love is long-suffering, *Love is patient and kind, True love is immortal.
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66
Less than a week ago, my mind, soul and body orbited you. Long hours of phone talk had diminished to me obsessing over your facebook page. Refresh. Pictures of stomach throbbing sights force loss of self focus and concentration. The sight of you being feet away from her and simple conversation weakens me. Refresh. The idea of closure doesn’t exist in your world. So lead me on, weeks and weeks. Month and month. You have disinherited my love songs, back cracks, back strokes, and your life size teddy bear. Believe it or not, I am not an emotionless *** toy- like you are. Refresh. Who I am should reflect something our love could never purchase. My maple heals will feel like stabs in your moronic choice. My lace dress will feel like the dream that you must awaken from. My body will look like a mystery to you, **** face. In less than a week, I metamorphosed into the girl you couldn’t get Again. At least you were warned. Close and Sign off.
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Nov 7, 2011
Nov 7, 2011 at 2:03 PM UTC
Less Than a Week Ago
The  Love  children gather in  saffron meadows   needling their aura  for a  portal  beyond  innocence. Prophecies  anew points towards  the  stone  canyons   where  form undefined, almost contorted settles  on the former  Moon children, whose antecedences  coexistence  with their seven moons, orbited  the limitless  vacuum. A perchance  to dream to dare.
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Jul 11, 2013
Jul 11, 2013 at 3:54 PM UTC
Former light