"orions" poems
The Orions, mysterious forces who contacts the witch,
When She is ready to be sworn,
In secret they teach Her how much the soul is rich,
Some think they're are Goddesses, Spirits or even Norn,
She studies all truths in secret,
Energy is always knowledge,
But due to humanity's key weakness,
Their own Truth, Potential, they can't acknowledge!
She studies Magik and Spirituality,
Nothing more commoners hate: a shining light,
Knowing witches didn't win often in history,
Alone She stands, alone She became bright.
Yet one day The Orions appear,
For the Witch is now ready,
She becomes Wise, all fears disappear,
The Illumined path she travels; Perceptive and Steady.
Truly when you are truly yourself,
You see life's true beauty,
And the Witch is forever blessed,
One day...
She will join the Orions, Becoming A Witch for Eternity
Jun 4, 2016
Jun 4, 2016 at 11:16 PM UTC
*I get out of my tent and brave the crisp frigid air,
The crystal clear skies all but beckon to me,
I see into forever an envisioned trance of stare,
This is the endless realm that was here for all to see.
Every last star sparkling, Orions belt,
Even small stars are clearly set in stone,
To see what was beyond the unknown
Or how it all made sense the way I only felt alone,
To others so vain who want to do nothing but rob,
Rob her of creations, of all of her treasures, to make
Away with precious truths, take away what's
Left of the mysterious innocent love and pleasures.
To see her coming back to life like a sparkling
Phoenix rising in that gorgeous night sky,
This is what it means to be here, grasping this flash light,
Heading for a dark enough place so I can be farthest from
The blaring bright man-made light,
In a moment one can only imagine why
There is such an open loving sky,
In a world of death and decay, of war and hate,
Of madness, still innocence here remains. So alive...
To see the beginning of the end, to see all this
Under the vast and endless night sky, sparkling
Like glittering gems in her adventurous, playful eyes.*
Jul 26, 2016
Jul 26, 2016 at 5:39 AM UTC
The moon cracks and blooms.
Its grey nowhere to be seen,
It shawls itself with a bleak cloud.
The floating pearl biscuit
Busily dictates orions and dippers.
One travels, and people start wishing.
They are hopeless: the people and their pretentious wishes.
The jackfruit tree bears only death: dead leaves, thorned fruits.
Under the nocturnal skies,
It is the great witch.
Silent and black. It is voiceless.
Shalini Nayar
© 2002
Sep 23, 2014
Sep 23, 2014 at 9:25 AM UTC
She is in love with the stars
All the unknowns, the expanse of the sky,
Tells me about the everything and nothingness,
Most times I don't really understand
Too infatuated with her eyes, wide and gleaming,
Twin Orions,
I try to explain to her my love affair with words
The everything and nothingness they hold
Recently her skies have been flooding my pages,
All the blacks and blues that hang high above
Staining my notebooks cover to cover
Oct 5, 2015
Oct 5, 2015 at 8:58 PM UTC
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.
Dec 1, 2015
Dec 1, 2015 at 4:08 PM UTC
Drug Sub War
The drug sub became the new menace
Replacing the Toyota engined powerboats
And outdated drug running planes that got splashed
Sleek, able to travel underwater
More than the semi-submersible craft
Using a snorkel like **** U-Boats did
A group of foreign designers made them
Contracted by the drug cartels
To make an almost undetectable vehicle
Costing millions fitted with both low and high tech gear
Like GPS, night and day camera periscope and more
Able to dive at will hundreds of feet below
Remaining silent under battery power
But they didn't realize how persistent the US Navy was
Who specialized in hunting subs and now had a new opponent
Not Red China or Neo Soviet enemy subs hunting American carriers
It was Narco Subs from Central and South America
Each one carrying between one and eight tons of drugs
Pure Class A narcotics to **** North American youth
The US Navy used P-3 Orions, P-8 Poseidens and anti-sub choppers
To find the stealthy subs and take the appropriate measures
Calling destroyers and frigates who chased the subs down
Forcing them to surface with small depth charges
When drug sub crews fought back with machine guns
The navy sank them with all available weapons
For this war war, a war of innocent versus guilty
On the ocean no law court was needed...
Mar 23, 2019
Mar 23, 2019 at 6:39 AM UTC
If safety's an illusion, it's the best trick in the book.
If love's a game, then who makes the rules?
Can I spend my nights ankle deep on sandy beaches,
just trying to find Orions belt?
What if I just whisked myself away on a breeze?
I could flow through the atmosphere,
faster than a jet engine,
louder than a thunderstorm,
stronger than steal.
Or what if I fell in with the waves?
I could crush, crash and roll till my heart explodes.
The sound of my breath alone could make the mountains
shake with concern.
Perhaps I could be infinite.
I could prop myself right up in the stars and talk to god.
I could say "It's beautiful up here." and he could just smirk,
knowing that we're the only ones that know.
Maybe I could just congregate with the street lights and
pretend we were the very stars themselves.
We could believe what ever we wanted.
We would never have any problems finding Orions belt.
Mar 7, 2011
Mar 7, 2011 at 5:24 PM UTC
we out run the streetlights at dusk
clicking on overhead
raining urban-orange rays
with the dying day
hang a tight left down the alley
dodging car mirrors and hoses
orions belt preaches purity
hovering above the city
black winter skies
wind riled up
whipping cigarette butts
and plastic cups
leaves stain inky brown corpses
in the stairwell
quickly
please
my hands are gonna freeze
get your keys from your
used peacoat and
shoulder slam the front door
we burrow in the basement
kicking off shoes i collapse on the couch
warmth wine ****
in abundance
my slumping tired shoulders hear
your laughter from the kitchen
and long for you
come caress me gently.
you've waited so patiently
for me and my vials of venom
roaches are trickling in from the ceiling
and i might really love you
Jan 12, 2016
Jan 12, 2016 at 10:37 PM UTC
This dream this war this shadow wholly pondered for
Echoes in the Giants well
Begins its have and delves in need
Glistening in breathing drifts
Snow like feathers cast from fingertips
Hunger quaking in the heart of man
Simple deeds reverse this selfish plan
His eyes his mind his deafening signs
All fall
as his hands palm lifts
And seeks the pull of indifference
Shadowed thoughts and mirrored wealth
The tragedy of paradox was never felt
Like this before
And never will again, again
For strength and song the delicate dismisses wrong
The turn of earth her ghostly hair
Lain like shadows over ice and swept with air
Seasons drift and mend the scorn
A Distant world ressurects the storm
For truth and justice I resist
Heaven hides her golden head
For more to leave gone is the guess
Her enshambled riddle pounds it's fists
In fierce dissection weather strains
Like DNA in cosmic fits
Her tooth all caught on writted skin
The lost majestic rhyme their kin
With hopeless tragic stories rhythm
Gone the cost of indeterminate freedom
Underneath his school of thought
Lied the angle down and never bought
The answers hidden the code reversed
The second hand believers curse
The tragic thirst for sentenced bans
The belt of stars Orions hands
Truth unsanctified and freely given
Her moon well hides her violent vision
Apr 2, 2017
Apr 2, 2017 at 1:25 PM UTC
I’ve been solitude’s
Groupie,
Clamoring behind
The long caravan of days,
Looking for
Vast,
Shore-like time
To stretch
Before my pen,
Like a nightingale’s muse
Utopian cravings
Of naked lyrics,
Fresh born and
Salient as the sea,
Washing,
Over tumbled fragments
Of being,
Pulled congruent
From the itching grains,
Of memories
Still inside their shell
I’ve ached to find that
Pearly stone,
In a frozen tundra
Lost to all sounds
But breath.
But, Time,
Gives flotsam and jetsam, Bumper car reality,
As I sit, in the crook of his elbow
Fumbling pens, and pages.
Incongruent thoughts like cluster galaxies I long to name,
But haven’t the moments to take a true likeness
Into the mirror’s chamber, before I’m ****** upon some other vista.
Race cars, and sirens, and something lost in the noise.
While I shift my balance
In order
To name,
These moments.
These Orions and Pleiades,
Frothy in the soup of beginnings,
And ends,
For they are my constellations
In the wide wonder
Of noisy breaths,
So half-kept
And unclean,
They face the page
In the jam-stained smile,
Of an impish motion becoming
Something.
And this verse,
Supposing at first
To stroll down one path,
Has chosen instead-
To laugh,
To be jangled away,
By the in-play
That fraction-moment’s make,
When side by side
They stay
Glorious
In change embraced,
Chaos unashamed.
So that poetry
So naively sought
has not the name
but all the heart.
May 26, 2015
May 26, 2015 at 11:22 AM UTC
This dream this war this shadow wholly pondered for
Echoes in the Giants well
Begins its have and delves in need
Glistening in breathing drifts
Snow like feathers cast from fingertips
Hunger quaking in the heart of man
Simple deeds reverse this selfish plan
His eyes his mind his deafening signs
All fall
as his hands palm lifts
And seeks the pull of indifference
Shadowed thoughts and mirrored wealth
The tragedy of paradox was never felt
Like this before
And never will again, again
For strength and song the delicate dismisses wrong
The turn of earth her ghostly hair
Lain like shadows over ice and swept with air
Seasons drift and mend the scorn
A Distant world ressurects the storm
For truth and justice I resist
Heaven hides her golden head
For more to leave gone is the guess
Her enshambled riddle pounds of it's fists
In fierce dissection weather strains
Like DNA in cosmic fits
Her tooth all caught on writted skin
The lost majestic rhyme their kin
With hopeless tragic rhythm
Gone the cost of indeterminate freedom
Underneath his school of thought
Lied the angle down and never bought
The answers hidden the code reversed
The second hand believers curse
The tragic thirst for sentenced bans
The belt of stars Orions hands
Truth unsanctified and freely given
Her moon well hides her violent vision
Apr 4, 2017
Apr 4, 2017 at 6:09 PM UTC
==========================
One winter night
You came in my life
when I was cold and alone
you are a gift to me
without any oasis
without any river
without any Orions light
without any sun
but
you are melting the ice
you're all the music
all the poems and
all the foods
Taste buds
after some guilty pleasures
illicit seduction stunning display
you make me king of your kingdom
Ever since
I have never been the same
Written by
~~~Jawahar Gupta~~~
Jan 6, 2018
Jan 6, 2018 at 3:26 PM UTC
Look down on my dangerously, Orions Belt.
My heart is roaming wild and free.
My body is wanting late and wet.
Life starts to spin wildly out of control
I realize how steady you kept me,
how cool and collected.
I miss your scent, I miss you holding me when my legs were weak.
But I've missed this rebel inside of me.
This careless, cool, collected mess.
And so, I turn up the music,
so my thoughts are quieted, but one.
I wake up early to open my eyes and still my body.
I run, I run and I run to pound the pavement
and to lose all the sadness of not missing you.
Because I finally realize, I am missing someone,
and its not you, Riley.
I miss him. I miss his hands of home.
But I think he's gone from me, I think its to late.
The lonely whispers, "Yes, its to late."
as the wind blows through.
But, the sun shines, "Yes! Tell him!" as it causes my skin to glow.
Jun 1, 2016
Jun 1, 2016 at 7:36 PM UTC