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"planetary" poems
This is the light of the mind, cold and planetary The trees of the mind are black. The light is blue. The grasses unload their griefs on my feet as if I were God Prickling my ankles and murmuring of their humility Fumy, spiritous mists inhabit this place. Separated from my house by a row of headstones. I simply cannot see where there is to get to. The moon is no door. It is a face in its own right, White as a knuckle and terribly upset. It drags the sea after it like a dark crime; it is quiet With the O-gape of complete despair. I live here. Twice on Sunday, the bells startle the sky ---- Eight great tongues affirming the Resurrection At the end, they soberly **** out their names. The yew tree points up, it has a Gothic shape. The eyes lift after it and find the moon. The moon is my mother. She is not sweet like Mary. Her blue garments unloose small bats and owls. How I would like to believe in tenderness ---- The face of the effigy, gentled by candles, Bending, on me in particular, its mild eyes. I have fallen a long way. Clouds are flowering Blue and mystical over the face of the stars Inside the church, the saints will all be blue, Floating on their delicate feet over the cold pews, Their hands and faces stiff with holiness. The moon sees nothing of this. She is bald and wild. And the message of the yew tree is blackness -- blackness and silence
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The Moon And The Yew Tree
Oh, will you ever return to me, My wild first force, will you return When the old madness comes to Blacken in me and to burn Slow in my brain like a slow fire In a blackened brazier - dull like a smear of blood, Humid and hot evil, slow-sweltering up in a flood! Oh, will you not come back, my fierce song? Jubilant and exultant, triumphing over the huge wrong of that slow fire of madness that feeds on me - the slow mad blood thick with its hate and evil, sweltering up in its flood! Oh! will you not purge it from me - my wild lost flame? Come and restore me, save me from the intolerable shame Of that huge eye that eats into my Naked body constantly And has no name, Gazing upon me from the immense and Cruel bareness of the sky That leaves no mercy of concealment That gives no promise of revealment And that drives us on forever with its lidless eye Across a huge and houseless level of a planetary vacancy Oh, wild song and fury, fire and flame, Lost magic of my youth return, defend me from this shame! And Oh! You golden vengeance of bright song Not cure but answer to earth's wrong
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22.8k
Last Poem
Sacred fires burning bright Purging the flesh of my being Becoming one with the light Scorching the cells of my mortal body 4 Illuminate 3 the masses 4 Self-immolate 3 to ashes 1 break 3 conciousness 4 cosmic I lapse 3 death cleanses 8 dissipate into the nether 4 essence of life 3 extinguished 4 the chains that bind 3 relinquished 1 Pain 3 Surging through 4 Serenity 3 Gleaming blaze I, long to be cosmic, dissipate into illumination To, become the nether - to lapse in lost consciousness Then I shoot off in space and time, soaring through illusions Light years from reality, distant pixels 8 Obsessing through the tesseract, 6 scouring past illusions 7 beyond spatiality, 4 distant pixels Drifting, no sense or feel Flames of color, figments of my creation Drift in-to the surreal, Chasing fractals defragments my cognition Dreaming in discordance Life confined in simulation A glitch in the matrix Lies conceived through my perception Breathe I, long to be spectral, fluctuate right through this oscilation To, attain the ether - planetary cognizance Then I shoot off in space and time, soaring through illusions Light years from reality, distant pixels Obsessing through the tesseract, scouring past illusions beyond spatiality, distant pixels Drifting, no sense or feel Flash of colors, figments of my creation Drift in-to the surreal, Chasing fractals defragments my cognition Dreaming in discordance Life confined in simulation A glitch in the matrix Lies conceived through my perception Breathe
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Jul 12, 2015
Jul 12, 2015 at 5:46 PM UTC
A Glitch in the Matrix
Sacred fires burning bright Purging the flesh of my being Becoming one with the light Scorching the cells of my mortal body 4 Illuminate 3 the masses 4 Self-immolate 3 to ashes 1 break 3 conciousness 4 cosmic I lapse 3 death cleanses 8 dissipate into the nether 4 essence of life 3 extinguished 4 the chains that bind 3 relinquished 1 Pain 3 Surging through 4 Serenity 3 Gleaming blaze I, long to be cosmic, dissipate into illumination To, become the nether - to lapse in lost consciousness Then I shoot off in space and time, soaring through illusions Light years from reality, distant pixels 8 Obsessing through the tesseract, 6 scouring past illusions 7 beyond spatiality, 4 distant pixels Drifting, no sense or feel Flames of color, figments of my creation Drift in-to the surreal, Chasing fractals defragments my cognition Dreaming in discordance Life confined in simulation A glitch in the matrix Lies conceived through my perception Breathe I, long to be spectral, fluctuate right through this oscilation To, attain the ether - planetary cognizance Then I shoot off in space and time, soaring through illusions Light years from reality, distant pixels Obsessing through the tesseract, scouring past illusions beyond spatiality, distant pixels Drifting, no sense or feel Flash of colors, figments of my creation Drift in-to the surreal, Chasing fractals defragments my cognition Dreaming in discordance Life confined in simulation A glitch in the matrix Lies conceived through my perception Breathe
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.                                  Planet                            ***** Planet                          ***** Planet P                         enis Planet Peni                              Planet *****                            Planet *****                            Planet *****                            Planet *****                            Planet *****                            Planet *****                            Planet *****                            Planet *****                            Planet *****                            Planet *****                            Planet *****                            Planet *****                  Planet *****      Planet *****             Planet ***** Pla net ***** Planet        ***** Planet ***** Planet ***** Planet          ***** Planet Peni s Planet ***** Plan                Planet *****         Planet *****
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May 23, 2015
May 23, 2015 at 9:16 AM UTC
Planetary Collapse
Saturn Venus & Mars If you live in the Northern Hemishpere of this universe, go out any night this week an hour or so after sunset, and look at the western sky to catch a planetary triple play starring Venus, Saturn and Mars. The first thing skywatchers will see — weather permitting — is the planet Venus, slightly north of west, in the constellation Gemini. Look for Gemini's twin first magnitude stars, Pollux and Castor, just above Venus. As the sky gets darker, the planet Mars can be spotted to Venus' left as it appears in the constellation Leo very close to the bright, first magnitude star Regulus. Further still to the left, will be Saturn shining in the western part of the constellation Virgo. The sky map below shows how to spot all three planets. Venus, Mars and Saturn are all currently appearing, slightly north of the ecliptic, the path the sun appears to follow over the year, shown in green in the sky map. This occurance inspired the poem that follows. Good morning my love, hope that you slept well, while you were away my dear, all the night sky fell, the only stars that remain, are the stars in my eyes, when I gaze upon your face, the tears my heart cries, for I can only dream a dream, of you in my world, and wish that I could kiss, those sweet lips so curled, I also wish that you, would think of me this way, holding you in my arms, is my wish each and every day .... Gomer LePoet...
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Jun 10, 2010
Jun 10, 2010 at 1:21 PM UTC
Saturn Venus & Mars
my mind is blank. void, like space? but space has stars.. or galaxies, or planetary systems, or planets, or earth-like environments, or people living on these earth-like environments, or extraterrestrial intelligent beings, or intelligent minds or perspicacious thoughts on how things narrow down to a single idea.. that everything is void
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Jun 25, 2015
Jun 25, 2015 at 8:19 PM UTC
inside my galaxy
This is what she looks like when she's sad: The human condition effective immediately. Winter shades shift side to side, exploding out of each iris. Skin falling off, when lunging forward to kiss me. Fingernail daggers dig into my pores. I'll bleed under her fingernails, if she'll drag them down my torso until her knees click the floor. This is her tongue inside of my mouth: We taste each other before we waste each other. Hip bones parallel and our eyes rubbing shoulders, my hands surfing her rib cage and it's all the rage because she moans. And when she moans, color tones orbit around her head. Planetary tumors dancing around her skull; jump roping with her hair, eating morals and removing plurals. Those are her lips around me. Her head moves up and down but her eyes focus on me. She makes eye contact and I empty my dreams into her mouth. We are a public forum. I ache with alcohol poisoning and liberal undertones. The terrain that is my face bleeds oils that would lubricate the axle of the car that she drove into the tree that we carved our name into. Come back to me. I miss you so much. I watched you die. I watched you die and there was nothing I could do. They told me that she wouldn't make it. They told me that she might make it. My hand gripped at blood stained blanket. I think she said my name under the air mask. I could tell if she saw me; her eyes rolled back into her head after she gazed a thousand yards away into the field of black that sheltered the tall grass that we would chase each other through and get lost in as we got lost in each other. I love you! I ******* love you! My back, a membrane coil that rises my stiff neck that cares my head full of memories. I turn on the light and you're not there next to me. I put my hand on your copy of The Thornbirds and know that you've read it more than the notes I leave in your inbox, hoping that it'll say that you have seen it. Walking to your grave, I am a darkness that the abyss has swallowed and I have followed myself into nothingness that is such bliss that I forget your kiss.
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Dec 31, 2014
Dec 31, 2014 at 1:01 PM UTC
******** and Car Crashes ******* in a mouth)
This is what she looks like when she's sad: The human condition effective immediately. Winter shades shift side to side, exploding out of each iris. Skin falling off, when lunging forward to kiss me. Fingernail daggers dig into my pores. I'll bleed under her fingernails, if she'll drag them down my torso until her knees click the floor. This is her tongue inside of my mouth: We taste each other before we waste each other. Hip bones parallel and our eyes rubbing shoulders, my hands surfing her rib cage and it's all the rage because she moans. And when she moans, color tones orbit around her head. Planetary tumors dancing around her skull; jump roping with her hair, eating morals and removing plurals. Those are her lips around me. Her head moves up and down but her eyes focus on me. She makes eye contact and I empty my dreams into her mouth. We are a public forum. I ache with alcohol poisoning and liberal undertones. The terrain that is my face bleeds oils that would lubricate the axle of the car that she drove into the tree that we carved our name into. Come back to me. I miss you so much. I watched you die. I watched you die and there was nothing I could do. They told me that she wouldn't make it. They told me that she might make it. My hand gripped at blood stained blanket. I think she said my name under the air mask. I could tell if she saw me; her eyes rolled back into her head after she gazed a thousand yards away into the field of black that sheltered the tall grass that we would chase each other through and get lost in as we got lost in each other. I love you! I ******* love you! My back, a membrane coil that rises my stiff neck that cares my head full of memories. I turn on the light and you're not there next to me. I put my hand on your copy of The Thornbirds and know that you've read it more than the notes I leave in your inbox, hoping that it'll say that you have seen it. Walking to your grave, I am a darkness that the abyss has swallowed and I have followed myself into nothingness that is such bliss that I forget your kiss.
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In Stardust, Is where can hopes be born, But also, where a star has died, violently, explosively, shining out light so brilliant it would roar if it hit the atmosphere, illuminate it, It is hot, alike the purgatory with a sweet look to gaze at if you observe the planetary nebulae by a far, far distance of course, The dreams of the nova remnant, spread across space, left is but a small piece of dense matter, pulsating light cast by it's fast spin, It is but a pulsar, or rather this old lady could be called one of the many lighthouses of our beloved widely beautiful universe, Shining brilliantly even after death, isn't that what we all desire ? If sadness clouds your judgement and you have nowhere to run, And if you feel lonely in a starlit sky, worrying about the past long gone, losing yourself to your recurring, cruel thoughts, Just remember, that you too, once were part of a bright, shining star which once too used to brighten up the dark, cold night for one else. ~ Umi
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Apr 29, 2018
Apr 29, 2018 at 6:08 PM UTC
In Stardust
All the stars as one in unison Make up the galaxy we're in, Floating around a white celestial Being on this planetary ship. We'll wind up in the "path of Gods," A self-made volunteer appears with an "Informative" plan to share "love's book," To speak of "things we'll find on this journey," No future planned stone can be pre-overlooked. And in the skies float the particles That started out light years away Have finally made their touchdown, Leaving the express universal highway A rocky chunk of history found it's way to town. A story that is so ancient, so in tune with time, That it even has developed a star-struck Lightning fire in the backyard of galactic life, And what sprouted from the ashy rubble is us, Eyes hands and feet and all to experience, To explore the many creations of natural love.
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Mar 11, 2015
Mar 11, 2015 at 9:27 PM UTC
Enlightenment
..Mars.. ..Venus.. ..Jupiter.. ..Moon.. Line dancing ...together... just hours before dawn. Tonight, take me with you! I promise not to tell where your secret dance hall is hidden....
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Nov 5, 2015
Nov 5, 2015 at 2:51 PM UTC
Planetary Line Dance
i. mo chroí, do not dismay, we art not chained global slave's, as tis We art ourn father God's chosen; we need to bringeth hope to those lost, wearied and broken. ii. mo bhanríon, these stanza's art ourn song's, ourn voices shalt carry on, as peach-faced lovebird's in the dawn; iii. a chuisle mo chroí, holdeth me closer, embrace mine visage, we must be Argus-eyed, in the coming soon explosional shock, for this terrace of dirt shalt shaketh as rock's, back to the sand- dusted, eleven-fifty-nine's on the clock; iv. We were created together, verily for this reason, to emit forgiveness and compassion, if even for one planetary season;  also we were generated distances ago, then we were soulmates as still now- though then at that time, thou didst not know. I weaved intimately in and back out of thy soul, thine past spirit memory faded, before now I was thy king and thy whole. When we were sent to earth to taketh human form, ourn affections from kingdom's ago were forgotten and mourned, though tis mine lass when I saweth thee again, I kneweth thou were me, as tis I'm thee mine sweet, mine Jane, mine best friend. So now that I haveth thee again, back Into mine reach; we'll spend eternity with the saint's, well learn together, and we shalt teach...... ©Brandon Nagley ©Lonesome poet's poetry ©Earl Jane Nagley ( Filipino rose ) dedication
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Dec 22, 2015
Dec 22, 2015 at 8:41 PM UTC
a chuisle mo chroí ( Pulse of my heart) old irish tongue
I'm not special I'm just one out of seven billion And we're all interconnected So why am I the only one driving down this road? You don't have my address Or my wifi password Have you found the bat in your gazebo? I found mine And named him Bruce The leaves that fall on my vehicle Touch no other's And the rain that pours onto me Soaks into my skin It becomes a part of me That sets me apart Subjectivity solidifies separation Like Saturn's rings A planetary population of particles That create something beautiful together Our species is special
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Sep 23, 2017
Sep 23, 2017 at 9:22 AM UTC
Special
On that fateful day of Pentecost, power came down from on high. For it originated with God’s presence and His Kingdom, that’s far beyond our sky. The ascension of Christ had been witnessed, with Him clearly rising above the clouds; He was no longer bound by planetary constraint and the opinionated amazement of the crowd. Upon the Earth, a violent breeze blew; it brought forth ‘winds of change’ into the hearts of men. This first outpouring of the Holy Spirit reinforced God’s abundant Love, for us all once again. The power of Jehovah had appeared, as ‘tongues of fire’ above the people’s heads - Thus fulfilling an Old Testament prophesy, as the prophet Joel had previously illustrated. The spiritual battles are fought today inside the imagination of our minds; cleanse your thoughts with The Word and shift your ideals with His holy paradigm. God has promised in The Scriptures that He will never leave us nor forsake us. His comforting Spirit remains along side as we now await - the final return of Christ Jesus. Author Notes: Learn more about me and my poetry at: http://www.squidoo.com/book-isbn-1419650513/ By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2010, All rights reserved.
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Jan 24, 2013
Jan 24, 2013 at 6:25 AM UTC
Poem: Remembering Pentecost
In this tangled web of energies emerges truth , lined with golden love. Tentacles grasp and hold, striving to keep smiles alive and well. Forcing back negative entities. We rebel primal ways, expanding facets of creativity To push forth, To push off, To find yourself somewhere in between. Sunken in the sidewalk’s crevasse. ***** and beautiful, the lotus blooms in harmony We’re here waiting; seeking. Trying to balance this chaos we’ve created. Calming minds and steadying tides, the ocean pulls by Luna’s force. The subtle aspect, when we have no control. The moon rises. Bending blood; bending minds, bending emotions. All subjected to planetary reactions and protractions. Measured by our willingness to flow. Desperately trying to find solace. We cave. We faulter, and give in to the moonlight. Taking in all it has to offer and becoming reborn within the sun. A new birth in the light. Refreshed and retrieved, we emerge from our reckless physicality and burst through in spirit. Gods. Beings. Light bodies. Humans. Tangible, broken and beautiful.
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Jan 3, 2013
Jan 3, 2013 at 4:39 AM UTC
Triangles and Moon Halos
"oh, there you are", and i’m not sure where i’m supposed to have been here we are again angelflower tying stones to our chests and waiting to drown (this is okay, i swear to god, or something like that isnt that what i’m supposed to say?) i want to set the world on fire, gaslit galaxy isnt it so fitting? isnt it just perfect? i wonder how many astronomy problems you havent solved and you say, "god this isn't important right now how can you be a god when you're not immortal" sometimes i think you can feel me bleeding from 1643 miles away this isn’t neverland anymore-- what are you afraid of? something about cornfields and misery heartbeats and almost like you said something you shouldn’t have,isn’t it? you’re always so proud, you’re always so hungry. by god, you old man, you weathered, withered, beast grab a shovel, grab whatever you can this isn’t neverland anymore-- this isn’t andromeda,no galaxy here, no stars or planetary confinement, and you were never icarus.
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Dec 9, 2014
Dec 9, 2014 at 6:15 PM UTC
corner store crybaby
In symmetry and colors a notable image.. meditative model Hubble finding in night sky light years from here and Now.. ***Science musings: How created..?*** A creator or creation..? ***A centered aging binary system..?*** Polarity energy says it all..? The unusual shape? Sacred geometry expresses itself..? A definite torus.. All Reality and Consciousness expressed as Torus..? ***Boundaries of cones form an X..?*** Creation of symmetry interconnectedness recognized..? ***Why unusual colors Red and Blue..?*** Left and Right Male and Female oppositions prevail..? ***As hydrocarbon molecules colors building blocks for organic life..?*** Center Light transforming to component colors..? ***In a few million years the Red Rectangle nebula will probably bloom into a planetary nebula..*** New birth Now announced...?
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May 25, 2013
May 25, 2013 at 3:14 PM UTC
Red Rectangle
And to you, my child I cannot promise you the world Nor a string of jewels to wear on your neck or even money But I can offer you my love A love so great with the magnitude of black holes Not just the cool ones in your science books But the ones that swallow entire planetary systems and clusters of stars I can't promise you much, baby girl But I can promise you that you'll never ask yourself if someone loves you You'll never wonder if there's a point to life You'll never doubt your worth Baby girl. I was raised by a hard man But a hard man who loved women A hard man who loved his women His wife. His mother. His sisters and his daughters. I was raised by a man that taught me to stand tall not like her father But like the woman she would become I was raised by a man that taught me to reason. To think. To question authority if need be. Go out into the world, baby girl, and live. Be who you are even when that's not enough for your crush next door. Because at the end of the day, The Sun will set And the Moon will rise
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Jul 26, 2017
Jul 26, 2017 at 2:05 AM UTC
Vows for my Daughter
a battle ensued across the skies meteors and comets impacted upon each other fierce were the explosions a trembling quake rolled through the planetary spheres neutrons and protons collided monstrous and massive destruction befell the galaxies which were ****** into the battle's vortex combustible fires flared burning for millions of years the war didn't abate the kinetic energy compelled more devastation catastrophe lasted until eternity
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Oct 9, 2014
Oct 9, 2014 at 7:18 AM UTC
Meteors and Comets
The stars glare at me As I lie awake on my bed, Imagining constellations on my ceiling Truth be told, I imagine I am gazing up at them, But they are too stubborn They wouldn't listen if I told them Their twinkle in the night sky Looked like a sparkling waterfall Their loyalty to the night Is unrivaled in the universe Their blazing bodies Bring light in the darkness Their presence every night Gives me ease and I sleep well Nibbling on the corner of A fluffy planetary nebula, Swimming with a cluster Of dreaming asteroids I imagine all these things Happening above my head
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Dec 11, 2014
Dec 11, 2014 at 11:05 PM UTC
nebula fantasia
Daughter of a rocket scientist  son of a nuclear engineer and they begat a son a boy too starry-eyed to question the stars— the way they hang in space, the fusion that keeps them burning brightly, or how to launch an object past them— more concerned with the constellations of perfect freckles found on his beloved's shoulders a boy  too enthralled with Existence and describing it in artful words to contemplate its composition or to ponder Existence's place on Other Worlds a boy  enraptured with the Changing of the Seasons— photosynthesis and  chloroplasts and  planetary tilt? Irrelevant a boy  who'd rather write of Love than consider its chemical makeup or wonder how or why it is who'd prefer to write of leaves dancing spirals in the breeze  than aerodynamics and  air resistance and gravitational pull a boy  who sometimes stops  and only ponders Science concerning his Genetics and wonders where it all was lost.
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Apr 23, 2014
Apr 23, 2014 at 7:34 AM UTC
Self-Portrait
Do you realize that races are overrated, since God is no respecter of persons? Colored perceptions of hatred and bigotry may ultimately destroy our existence. Who needs people that: • Lack brotherly love and respect for others • Lust for power, wealth and ********** • Lack vision and purpose • Lack maturity and wisdom • Have attitudes of superiority • Are poor in spirit • Lack discipline and self-control Colored attitudes, regarding skin tones and hues, pale in contrast to uncontrolled emotions. Without responsibility and accountability, people get themselves in trouble rather quickly. Who really wants or needs: • Red’s lustful, passion for someone other than your spouse? • or Green’s destructional envy of others’ wealth or possessions? • or Yellow’s fear, smelling of ***** from peeing ourselves? • or White’s collection of powdered deaths? • or Blue’s inner sadness or coldness towards others? • or Brown’s poverty, shame and overall uncleanness? • or Orange steadfastness for a Godless life? • or Purple’s smugness from a self-conceived ideal of royalty? • or Black’s foreboding sicknesses and death? Our human collective needs to find real commonality, within this brotherhood of man, as planetary stewards. Under girded with a genuineness of concern and love, true understanding can lead to harmonious relationships. We all have the ability to commune with God’s Spirit; however, we each must have a desire to do so. Utopia may be unattainable, unlike… unity of community. And yes, I forgive you, for thinking I might be racist. Author Notes: Loosely based on: Acts 10: 34; Gal 2: 6; Deut 10: 17; 1 Pet 1: 17 Learn more about me and my poetry at: http: //www.squidoo.com/book-isbn-1419650513 By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2012, All rights reserved.
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Apr 11, 2013
Apr 11, 2013 at 7:42 AM UTC
Poem: Colored People
Do you realize that races are overrated, since God is no respecter of persons? Colored perceptions of hatred and bigotry may ultimately destroy our existence. Who needs people that: • Lack brotherly love and respect for others • Lust for power, wealth and ********** • Lack vision and purpose • Lack maturity and wisdom • Have attitudes of superiority • Are poor in spirit • Lack discipline and self-control Colored attitudes, regarding skin tones and hues, pale in contrast to uncontrolled emotions. Without responsibility and accountability, people get themselves in trouble rather quickly. Who really wants or needs: • Red’s lustful, passion for someone other than your spouse? • or Green’s destructional envy of others’ wealth or possessions? • or Yellow’s fear, smelling of ***** from peeing ourselves? • or White’s collection of powdered deaths? • or Blue’s inner sadness or coldness towards others? • or Brown’s poverty, shame and overall uncleanness? • or Orange steadfastness for a Godless life? • or Purple’s smugness from a self-conceived ideal of royalty? • or Black’s foreboding sicknesses and death? Our human collective needs to find real commonality, within this brotherhood of man, as planetary stewards. Under girded with a genuineness of concern and love, true understanding can lead to harmonious relationships. We all have the ability to commune with God’s Spirit; however, we each must have a desire to do so. Utopia may be unattainable, unlike… unity of community. And yes, I forgive you, for thinking I might be racist. Author Notes: Loosely based on: Acts 10: 34; Gal 2: 6; Deut 10: 17; 1 Pet 1: 17 Learn more about me and my poetry at: http: //www.squidoo.com/book-isbn-1419650513 By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2012, All rights reserved.
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***A Woman's Reflection on Her Reflection (Valence and Value) one poem, written by two authors*** ~~~ **Ever the analyst, A mirror functions as surface to Parse the fleeting constant Of youth's beauty. From genetic gift Of symmetry and bone, To technological tampering, Until the equation is solved, As experience and character Models and maps the result. The answer, a reflection, Of individual valence and value** (written by S.D., a woman) ~~~ (written by N.L., a man) unbidden and unannounced, a "not fully formed poem, but a simple reflection" inbound missile arrives inbox, armed with silent power, the lethality of the Holy Unexpected the man reflects on her mirror-on-the-wall's fulsome reply, parsing the words of a woman's reflection, while gazing on her own every human's momentary glass notation, but an instance of summation, a human poem, whose editing, unceasing a comma here, a period inserted, an eye shadowed, an eyebrow tweezed, a eye dark circle line added, to tree-mark time's authorship all  these but a person's excerpted extraction, notarized, then auto-erased and revised, as out of date,   instantaneously compromised but, ***it is upon  the conceptual, valence and value, more that the man reflects perpetual, less on transitory morphing changes of exterior mortality while overlooking her glassine realization from behind, he concludes: every reflection, no matter how oft the snapshot, the unfleeting constancy of the combining of the princes of principles, valence and value that he witnesses, in the calming pool of her eyes, (those borrowed windows into her soul's well,) so well reflect her unchanging greater finery, her character this reflection, metamorphosis transformed. into a planetary permanency poem, high placed in his the firmament of their conjoined sky***
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Feb 25, 2016
Feb 25, 2016 at 8:54 PM UTC
A Woman's Reflection on Her Reflection (Valence and Value)
***A Woman's Reflection on Her Reflection (Valence and Value) one poem, written by two authors*** ~~~ **Ever the analyst, A mirror functions as surface to Parse the fleeting constant Of youth's beauty. From genetic gift Of symmetry and bone, To technological tampering, Until the equation is solved, As experience and character Models and maps the result. The answer, a reflection, Of individual valence and value** (written by S.D., a woman) ~~~ (written by N.L., a man) unbidden and unannounced, a "not fully formed poem, but a simple reflection" inbound missile arrives inbox, armed with silent power, the lethality of the Holy Unexpected the man reflects on her mirror-on-the-wall's fulsome reply, parsing the words of a woman's reflection, while gazing on her own every human's momentary glass notation, but an instance of summation, a human poem, whose editing, unceasing a comma here, a period inserted, an eye shadowed, an eyebrow tweezed, a eye dark circle line added, to tree-mark time's authorship all  these but a person's excerpted extraction, notarized, then auto-erased and revised, as out of date,   instantaneously compromised but, ***it is upon  the conceptual, valence and value, more that the man reflects perpetual, less on transitory morphing changes of exterior mortality while overlooking her glassine realization from behind, he concludes: every reflection, no matter how oft the snapshot, the unfleeting constancy of the combining of the princes of principles, valence and value that he witnesses, in the calming pool of her eyes, (those borrowed windows into her soul's well,) so well reflect her unchanging greater finery, her character this reflection, metamorphosis transformed. into a planetary permanency poem, high placed in his the firmament of their conjoined sky***
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*In his breakthrough work of channeled literature, I Am the Word, author and medium Paul Selig recorded an extraordinary program for personal and planetary evolution as humankind awakens to its own divine nature. I Am the Word is an energetic transmission that works directly on its readers to bring them into alignment with the frequency of the Word, which Paul's guides call the energy of "God in Action." Paul was born in New York City and received his Master's Degree from Yale. He had a spiritual experience in 1987 that left him clairvoyant. As a way to gain a context for what he was beginning to experience, he studied a form of energy healing, working at Marianne Williamson's Manhattan Center for Living and in private practice. In the process, he began to "hear" for his clients, and much of Paul's work now is as a clairaudient, clairvoyant, channel, and empath. Paul has led channeled energy groups for many years. In 2009 he was invited to channel at the Esalen Institute's Superpowers symposium, where he was filmed for the upcoming documentary film Authors of the Impossible. He is the subject of the feature-length documentary film Paul & the Word which will be released late summer, 2011. His workshops in 2011 include Edgar Cayce's A.R.E. in New York City, the Jungian Center in Vermont and the Esalen Institute in Big Sur, Calfornia. Also a noted playwright and educator, Paul serves on the faculty of NYU and directs the MFA in Creative Writing Program at Goddard College. He lives in New York City, where he maintains a private practice as an intuitive and conducts weekly, channeled energy groups.* Personal and planetary evolution- Live channeling with Paul Selig http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CAgh2pXDDls&feature;=youtu.be Waking Universe With Guest Paul Selig http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z7BI0Lgb9Kk&feature;=youtu.be
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Dec 26, 2012
Dec 26, 2012 at 8:19 PM UTC
Personal and planetary evolution- Live channeling with Paul Selig
*In his breakthrough work of channeled literature, I Am the Word, author and medium Paul Selig recorded an extraordinary program for personal and planetary evolution as humankind awakens to its own divine nature. I Am the Word is an energetic transmission that works directly on its readers to bring them into alignment with the frequency of the Word, which Paul's guides call the energy of "God in Action." Paul was born in New York City and received his Master's Degree from Yale. He had a spiritual experience in 1987 that left him clairvoyant. As a way to gain a context for what he was beginning to experience, he studied a form of energy healing, working at Marianne Williamson's Manhattan Center for Living and in private practice. In the process, he began to "hear" for his clients, and much of Paul's work now is as a clairaudient, clairvoyant, channel, and empath. Paul has led channeled energy groups for many years. In 2009 he was invited to channel at the Esalen Institute's Superpowers symposium, where he was filmed for the upcoming documentary film Authors of the Impossible. He is the subject of the feature-length documentary film Paul & the Word which will be released late summer, 2011. His workshops in 2011 include Edgar Cayce's A.R.E. in New York City, the Jungian Center in Vermont and the Esalen Institute in Big Sur, Calfornia. Also a noted playwright and educator, Paul serves on the faculty of NYU and directs the MFA in Creative Writing Program at Goddard College. He lives in New York City, where he maintains a private practice as an intuitive and conducts weekly, channeled energy groups.* Personal and planetary evolution- Live channeling with Paul Selig http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CAgh2pXDDls&feature;=youtu.be Waking Universe With Guest Paul Selig http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z7BI0Lgb9Kk&feature;=youtu.be
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I trod on earth that sparkled I waltzed beside the moon Dancing in the universe To a planetary tune The comets sang a medley A spatial serenade All the heavens hummed the chorus Thus a harmony was made The sun joined in in baritone A rich voice filled with light The planets played a polka As we danced into the night Music swelled around us In an orbital orchestra A constellation conga line The last thing that I saw I woke from my deep slumber As I slept beneath that sky The starlit party glistened A twinkling tango before my eyes I woke from my deep slumber As I slept beneath that sky The starlit party glistened A twinkling tango before my eyes
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Aug 27, 2012
Aug 27, 2012 at 10:04 PM UTC
An Extraterrestrial Affair
I am Jupiter storms Unabounded by time Raging on And eons Can not hope to confine me To unstable matter And mass Rearranging My molecules morphing To liquefied jewels And my surface A canvas Of unrefined fuels Like an abstract mosaic Of swirling Unfurling Tempests of archaic As constellations And the ages I've waited And slumbered and spun Into memories Faded And taken the names of your gods As my payment Inflating my ego's Mesmeric rotations So quick to claim hearts Of Europa's amidst My seductive, enchanting Illusory bliss Venture into my centrifuge Fumy abyss I have pressed up my lips Of a frigid, wet steel And then sealed With a kiss What ‘nary A planetary Can resist And as she revolves Around me And gives life Io dances about me, Callisto my wife Ganymede my seed And the rest of my progeny breed Future needs What the Earthlings will need To make up for their greed All will see Look to me In my enormity As my reservoirs Fill them With infinity
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Mar 30, 2019
Mar 30, 2019 at 3:44 AM UTC
Introspections of a Celestial Overlord Unbeholden to the Paltry Laws of Physics