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"pluto" poems
I laid on a dune, I looked at the sky. And saw the clouds passing by. The Moon was peeping through the clouds. To me it seemed so fake; like a plastic in a vase ! But if I had a mind, I could write about Pluto, Jupiter and Mars. I could folio on a rainbow from Venus, and have breakfast with stars. Or I could spin the galaxies, And play pinball with them. But, I felt so helpless and small; 'Immense', that is what I could say in all !
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Sep 27, 2014
Sep 27, 2014 at 7:54 AM UTC
Night Sky
I’ve got an attitude But I’m not so sure why It’s just another crazy thing That I just can’t let by I’ll list things that annoy me If that’s okay with you It goes to Pluto, and then back So I’ll just list a few I hate it when the younger ones Think they know better than me Or think they have authority To come and try to boss me I hate it when the older ones Think they can just ignore me And public business comes around They try to keep it from me It’s bad enough when I don’t win But that wont make me mad What I hate, oh who I hate it When the winners brag I hate it when folks say things to me To make me feel so small But then their only motive Is to make themselves feel tall They tell me that my ways are wrong Though they don’t know the right way I get this not just once a while But every single day I hate it that when I am wronged There’s no apology Instead they shake their snooty hips And spit their tongue at me If people would just slow it down And be kind or nice to me They might just find how happy of A person I can be #3_5/10/11
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Apr 30, 2014
Apr 30, 2014 at 10:18 AM UTC
Attitude
Babels of blocks to the high heavens towering Flames of futility swirling below; Poisonous fungi in brick and stone flowering, Lanterns that shudder and death-lights that glow. Black monstrous bridges across oily rivers, Cobwebs of cable to nameless things spun; Catacomb deeps whose dank chaos delivers Streams of live foetor that rots in the sun. Colour and splendour, disease and decaying, Shrieking and ringing and crawling insane, Rabbles exotic to stranger-gods praying, Jumbles of odour that stifle the brain. Legions of cats from the alleys nocturnal. Howling and lean in the glare of the moon, Screaming the future with mouthings infernal, Yelling the Garden of Pluto's red rune. Tall towers and pyramids ivy'd and crumbling, Bats that swoop low in the weed-cumber'd streets; Bleak Arkham bridges o'er rivers whose rumbling Joins with no voice as the thick horde retreats. Belfries that buckle against the moon totter, Caverns whose mouths are by mosses effac'd, And living to answer the wind and the water, Only the lean cats that howl in the wastes.
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15.8k
The Cats
What would occur if gravity failed me and I was lifted far into the heavens, Past the clouds and into the dark abyss of space? I would have nothing with me but my mind to reflect the world we all know. I wouldn’t think for long however, I would be to busy dancing around with the planets, to remember the harsh words that were said that night. I would be found hopping around on Saturn’s rings, giving her all the love I could. I would be found  talking to the Sun, telling her how we all missed her when she went away for the nights, without her we lay restless and cold waiting for her return. I would be found comforting Pluto, See he as well was easily forgotten. I would meet all the stars that make up the night sky, and say how we are all inspired by the beauty they give off, how we all glance up at them at our greatest moment of weakness and remember we aren’t alone, whispering to them all our troubles knowing that they will always be there to listen. And while everyone goes to sleep, I will finally join them and dream of never leaving this world that I have entered. I will finally forget you and the lies you told, laying restless no longer. So if you need to contact me, I can be found  floating across galaxies, talking to the asteroids, sharing stories of how I thought it would be the end if you left, laughing about the fact that everything was actually better. I will be among the stars, searching no more for love, because I am loved by the planets and all the stars. I no longer dread on not having the love of another, because there is far more love out there then in you.   The Earth still spins and the Sun still shines, the only difference being I don’t love you anymore.
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Jun 16, 2018
Jun 16, 2018 at 12:25 PM UTC
astronaut of the mind
What would occur if gravity failed me and I was lifted far into the heavens, Past the clouds and into the dark abyss of space? I would have nothing with me but my mind to reflect the world we all know. I wouldn’t think for long however, I would be to busy dancing around with the planets, to remember the harsh words that were said that night. I would be found hopping around on Saturn’s rings, giving her all the love I could. I would be found  talking to the Sun, telling her how we all missed her when she went away for the nights, without her we lay restless and cold waiting for her return. I would be found comforting Pluto, See he as well was easily forgotten. I would meet all the stars that make up the night sky, and say how we are all inspired by the beauty they give off, how we all glance up at them at our greatest moment of weakness and remember we aren’t alone, whispering to them all our troubles knowing that they will always be there to listen. And while everyone goes to sleep, I will finally join them and dream of never leaving this world that I have entered. I will finally forget you and the lies you told, laying restless no longer. So if you need to contact me, I can be found  floating across galaxies, talking to the asteroids, sharing stories of how I thought it would be the end if you left, laughing about the fact that everything was actually better. I will be among the stars, searching no more for love, because I am loved by the planets and all the stars. I no longer dread on not having the love of another, because there is far more love out there then in you.   The Earth still spins and the Sun still shines, the only difference being I don’t love you anymore.
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Such A Lovely Bubble Rise Bulbs And Spark To The Heart I Kept Watching You With My Eyes Hearing Your Voice Awakens Art I Picked The Words In My Poem To Point Them On You Like Apollo's Arc On My Eyes A Desire For The Aim Reaches Jupiter To Leave A Mark So I Can Say It On Each Verse Through The Soft Arrow Of Anteros Till The Endless Part Of The Universe Beyond The Level Of The Erotes With A Sublime Blessed Grace I Described The Beauty Of Your Face Pale White Conquered The Place Such A Stardust Perfected The Space Then You Paused The Time!, It Never Ends! Astonished While Our Spirits Ascends So I Drew You On Every Potential Star With Endless Feelings! Unconquerable Grips! You Rised And Forgot Who The Humans Are! You Teased The Sun To Touch Your Lips Once It Got Very Close, Still Pretty Far! Your Care Launched A Thousand Ships While Your Innocence Nags And Glare What An Existence!, Such A Cosmos She Grips A Galaxy That Craters The Beauty Of Mercury! Drives Venus Jealous To His Very End! Then Uranus Gave Up On Such A Mystery! Pluto Wolf Whistled His Frozen Wind! Mars Was Not Able To Belive His Own Eye! Neptune Was Busy Losing His Own Mind! Saturn And His Ring Felt Like A Fly! Earth Was The Blessed Land! Yet Jupiter Was The One To Tie! Author/ Aladdin Aures H.
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Aug 16, 2019
Aug 16, 2019 at 5:15 AM UTC
Beyond The Erotes !
O Great Goddess I Your true worshiper Crawl before your altar To beseech you Grant this poor Suffering soul Even a moments relief From the crushing weight Of this great love Its sweet agony The crippling despair All melded into one great mass of feeling O merciful Olympian Great passionate Goddess Provide succor To this lost and wand'ring devotee A glimmer of hope To tether my soul And keep the Furies at bay In the same way You granted Pygmalion's request And brought to life His marvelous statue Galatea Answer my desperate supplication Goddess of Beauty I offer my self to you I shall strive to restore Your true worship In this cursed world That has forsaken the true gods I shall bring whatever sacrifices you require If only you grant me this boon Quench a dying man's thirst Bring me up from Pluto's realm And lay me in the Elysian fields Great Goddess Hear my plea As a follower still of your descendant Gaius Julius A follower during his lifetime And a follower ever to this day I always serve your great name O Great Goddess Hear my plea Great and wonderful Goddess Venus.
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Dec 28, 2010
Dec 28, 2010 at 5:39 AM UTC
A Prayer to Venus
It was the end of the world when Ares met Mars Supposed to be counterparts, brothers in arms But on opposing sides they stood Couldn’t see eye to eye And instead of stemming the blood Each took an eye for an eye Until in time the whole world went blind The sword attacked and the spear struck back But that’s what happens when cultures clash When cultures collide With anger and hatred it starts to divide But nobody wins, cos the dead look the same on both sides It was the mother of all storms when Jupiter met Zeus There could have been a deuce; could have called a truce But each wanted more and more The two as black as thunder And instead of stopping the war Each stole the other’s thunder Until in time the whole world went under The thunder attacked and the lightning struck back But that’s what happens when cultures clash When cultures collide With anger and hatred it starts to divide But nobody wins, cos the dead look the same on both sides The underworld shook when the earth caved in Pluto and Hades together couldn’t take us all in We didn’t see when being heartless In wanting the best of both worlds That the second of the two would be darkness And together the weight of the worlds Would send us crashing down to Tartarus The rivers overflowed and the fires turned to ash But that’s what happens when cultures clash
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Dec 16, 2016
Dec 16, 2016 at 7:54 PM UTC
When Cultures Clash
We live in a time of uncertainty No jobs Climate change Mass killings warnings of pandemics Where is our utopia where is our heaven on Earth 1900's we had San Fransisco's earthquake McKinley was assassinated First Nobel prize The Tunguska Event nothing as changed in my eyes 1910's we had Spanish flu The sinking of the unsinkable ship, the Titanic and World War 1 What else is needed to say about this decade nothing changed as the human race lived on 1920's we had Discovery of penicillin The great depression and prohibition 1930's we had Bonnie and Clyde Hindenburg disaster Discovery of Pluto Al Capone imprisoned 1940's we had World War 2 Mount Rushmore completed Big bang theory formulated Israel founded Nothing changed but who knew 1950's we had Castro becomes Dictator of Cuba Laika the dog goes into space Korean War began History never changed and neither will the Human Race 1960's we had The rise of the Berlin wall First man on the moon Vietnam War Nothing changed and won't any time soon 1970's we had First test tube baby Tangshan Earthquake Kent state shootings Elvis died 1980's we had Chernobyl Tiananmen square massacre Exxon oil spill Nothing changed and never will 1990's we had Oklahoma city bombing Princess Diana died Columbine massacre World Trade Center bombed End of the Cold War 2000's we had Hurricane Katrina Pluto reclassified Obama elected September 11th 2010's we had Haiti Earthquake Japan Earthquake Bin Laden killed BP oil spill England riots Brazil riots China banned time travel. We're only 4 years in. **** sapiens are nearly 200,000 years old nothing changed and never will
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Jun 8, 2014
Jun 8, 2014 at 6:07 AM UTC
Nothing Changed
We live in a time of uncertainty No jobs Climate change Mass killings warnings of pandemics Where is our utopia where is our heaven on Earth 1900's we had San Fransisco's earthquake McKinley was assassinated First Nobel prize The Tunguska Event nothing as changed in my eyes 1910's we had Spanish flu The sinking of the unsinkable ship, the Titanic and World War 1 What else is needed to say about this decade nothing changed as the human race lived on 1920's we had Discovery of penicillin The great depression and prohibition 1930's we had Bonnie and Clyde Hindenburg disaster Discovery of Pluto Al Capone imprisoned 1940's we had World War 2 Mount Rushmore completed Big bang theory formulated Israel founded Nothing changed but who knew 1950's we had Castro becomes Dictator of Cuba Laika the dog goes into space Korean War began History never changed and neither will the Human Race 1960's we had The rise of the Berlin wall First man on the moon Vietnam War Nothing changed and won't any time soon 1970's we had First test tube baby Tangshan Earthquake Kent state shootings Elvis died 1980's we had Chernobyl Tiananmen square massacre Exxon oil spill Nothing changed and never will 1990's we had Oklahoma city bombing Princess Diana died Columbine massacre World Trade Center bombed End of the Cold War 2000's we had Hurricane Katrina Pluto reclassified Obama elected September 11th 2010's we had Haiti Earthquake Japan Earthquake Bin Laden killed BP oil spill England riots Brazil riots China banned time travel. We're only 4 years in. **** sapiens are nearly 200,000 years old nothing changed and never will
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Some where amidst Sanity and insanity, Some where amidst Agony and ecstacy, Some where amidst Canyons and alps, Some where amidst Dusk and dawn, Some where amidst Fantasy and reality, Some where amidst Spring and summer, Some where amidst Autumn and winter, Some where amidst Sun and Moon, Some where amidst Mercury and Venus, Some where amidst Earth and Mars, Some where amidst Jupiter and Saturn, Some where amidst Uranus and Neptune, Some where amidst Pluto and the unkown Dwells a Lonely poets soul.
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May 6, 2016
May 6, 2016 at 7:02 AM UTC
A Lonely Poet’s Soul
I am anti-social, I choke at social gatherings, My breath feels nothing more than lies , The lies when people's words, Sublime into air. While everyone brags about, The last time the Sapiens Had a good time, I comfortablly drift off, Into my little Pluto, Of words, poetry and music. I am there, Yet I am not there. People think I'm a snob, The Sapiens think I'm lazy, But what do they know, The happiness in solitude. I am anti social, And the last thing, I could care about, Is You.
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Aug 25, 2016
Aug 25, 2016 at 4:03 PM UTC
I am Anti Social
Pluto says Keep your hug Pluto says Dwarf Planet my *** Pluto says Sticks and Stones ************* Pluto says I know what I am I don’t care For your “opinion” Captured by the Kuiper Belt! Please. Or one my favorites, A cold rock! You called me a trans-Neptunian object? I have five moons! An 11 year old girl tried to name me. She won £5 but I’ve had many names. I am fond of Hiro. But I’ve also liked Minerva. I am hardly a minor planet. In 2006 they tried to make a verb out of me To "pluto" is to "demote or devalue someone or something.” **** You! So passive aggressive and insulting. I am not carrying that around with me My orbit is 248 years. At a 17 degree angle thank you very much To pay my respects to that egomaniac Sun. Why would I care what you think? Perhaps I am envied because I am so far away. I don’t think that I am far away at all. It’s relative, no? Yes, I am removed from that Versailles situation over there and all that ******** That horrible planet You know the one that I mean. The one that’s crawling with “things” They’re not even you. Disgusting. I am awash with molten ices and I even sport a plasma tail. I spin in nitrogen gases On my own path Alone With my FIVE moons! Just us! They claim that there are other Dwarf Planets here and there And even go so far as to suggest That I am the puniest amongst them But with my five and five more still That’s 10 to 8 And you already know what I can do.
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Sep 12, 2018
Sep 12, 2018 at 11:44 PM UTC
Planet X is the Devil
'tis a sad sad tale of woe of which I sing of gods and godesses and their lessening how forlorn the goddess Ceres once loved by all and wooed by many when unprovoked and unforeseen a war was wrought 'gainst fair queen caught unawares her throne assailed her forces scattered 'twas all unfair cast down she was from lofty throne no longer crowned no more beloved pierced thru with many thorns belittled and besmirched her reputation and now her station lost far beyond re-incarnation silently she slips away lost and near forgotten wounded and rarely seen her sullen thoughts of malice reign shamed and bleeding plotting her revenge till time and chance provide the proper circumstance then all the thorns that pierced her thru she shook as many blades and hurled those bitter barbs as one 'gainst Hades' mighty gates shaken he from his dark slumber his rallied forces armed in numbers their banners raised on solar breezes as trumpets blare thru breathless reaches voices shout in protestation slide rules locked in astrometric calculations oh see how Ceres scorned and mocked has wrought her rotting vengeance on Pluto's frozen rocks "Oh woe to thee my Persephone flee thee now to thy father's house for thy husband's hearth hath been broken and Hades' home now just a token My lofty edifice a shattered wrack an' all that's left 'tis a humble wretched shack" Pic Poem https://www.pix-star.com/media/cache_local/download/23fc881b88e812947b061094f5694d32/JPlutoThouHastFallen-e52.jpg .
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Apr 22, 2018
Apr 22, 2018 at 4:02 PM UTC
Pluto, Thou Hast Fallen
'tis a sad sad tale of woe of which I sing of gods and godesses and their lessening how forlorn the goddess Ceres once loved by all and wooed by many when unprovoked and unforeseen a war was wrought 'gainst fair queen caught unawares her throne assailed her forces scattered 'twas all unfair cast down she was from lofty throne no longer crowned no more beloved pierced thru with many thorns belittled and besmirched her reputation and now her station lost far beyond re-incarnation silently she slips away lost and near forgotten wounded and rarely seen her sullen thoughts of malice reign shamed and bleeding plotting her revenge till time and chance provide the proper circumstance then all the thorns that pierced her thru she shook as many blades and hurled those bitter barbs as one 'gainst Hades' mighty gates shaken he from his dark slumber his rallied forces armed in numbers their banners raised on solar breezes as trumpets blare thru breathless reaches voices shout in protestation slide rules locked in astrometric calculations oh see how Ceres scorned and mocked has wrought her rotting vengeance on Pluto's frozen rocks "Oh woe to thee my Persephone flee thee now to thy father's house for thy husband's hearth hath been broken and Hades' home now just a token My lofty edifice a shattered wrack an' all that's left 'tis a humble wretched shack" Pic Poem https://www.pix-star.com/media/cache_local/download/23fc881b88e812947b061094f5694d32/JPlutoThouHastFallen-e52.jpg .
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82
Telling the story of passion, death, and virtue. Tracking deception with freedom's lies. The Traveler passed through that timeless veil between here and there, the spaces between the fantastic delusional minds. That a hunter has when tracking down an accomplished plan. Caught in a Blue Galactic Storm. The Unicorn said. *"Mind your own business the rest of us don't give a **** Yet just as the wheels of the stars keep on turning-- on the heels of a planet surfing the Universes tides. There will always be cycles- and sometimes it happens that they collide-such is the power of the Muse. My story is one of tragedy and despair, with malice and Discord, Regret and Guilty Shame. Swallowed by the darkness empty and Dead. Yet out of nothing sprang Life-- fear to Hope Hate to Love, Recklessness to Responsibility, now I'm changing the tide. With arrows sharp words that fill the Night sky. Once again finding the Magic in these threads-weaving a world I've known and dread. Always mocked by the Queen of Hearts, hunting, desiring; "Metamorphosis" But Truth and Memory found the way. A ghost shell that’s crossed the Styx of the Grave, The Muse inside no longer be spelled drifting now to unsure shores, Just as Dante mapped out Hell, so will I my tale: Psyche (Human Soul) captive to the Ice of Pluto-shed no tears. This prison made flesh by mortal woe-lost, forgotten, But Morpheus came to me then. "You still have your Dreams." Then the madness came looming. The facts blurred and suddenly Phoebe appeared: with a playful far off expression. "Oh Persephone, mourn the falling leaves, for it is the last of them you will see.”
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Oct 29, 2012
Oct 29, 2012 at 2:23 PM UTC
Changes
Telling the story of passion, death, and virtue. Tracking deception with freedom's lies. The Traveler passed through that timeless veil between here and there, the spaces between the fantastic delusional minds. That a hunter has when tracking down an accomplished plan. Caught in a Blue Galactic Storm. The Unicorn said. *"Mind your own business the rest of us don't give a **** Yet just as the wheels of the stars keep on turning-- on the heels of a planet surfing the Universes tides. There will always be cycles- and sometimes it happens that they collide-such is the power of the Muse. My story is one of tragedy and despair, with malice and Discord, Regret and Guilty Shame. Swallowed by the darkness empty and Dead. Yet out of nothing sprang Life-- fear to Hope Hate to Love, Recklessness to Responsibility, now I'm changing the tide. With arrows sharp words that fill the Night sky. Once again finding the Magic in these threads-weaving a world I've known and dread. Always mocked by the Queen of Hearts, hunting, desiring; "Metamorphosis" But Truth and Memory found the way. A ghost shell that’s crossed the Styx of the Grave, The Muse inside no longer be spelled drifting now to unsure shores, Just as Dante mapped out Hell, so will I my tale: Psyche (Human Soul) captive to the Ice of Pluto-shed no tears. This prison made flesh by mortal woe-lost, forgotten, But Morpheus came to me then. "You still have your Dreams." Then the madness came looming. The facts blurred and suddenly Phoebe appeared: with a playful far off expression. "Oh Persephone, mourn the falling leaves, for it is the last of them you will see.”
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39
I need to go running to Pluto I HATE EVERYTHING WITH A ****** PASSION Just because I used to be a desperate psychopath Doesn't mean I'm still a desperate psychopath I AM A PERFECTLY RATIONAL HUMAN BEING WHY ARE YOU BREATHING LIKE THAT GET OUT OF MY FACE WAAAAAAAAAAAAit. Come bAAAAAAAAAck. I'M nOt The pRoblEm I've changed I mean I thOuGht I did Until I rEaliZeD that EvErYOne iS A FREAKING IDioT
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Sep 10, 2014
Sep 10, 2014 at 2:26 AM UTC
***
Like the sun, she brightens up my day Always there, never far away Like Mercury, She’s scorched with beauty A dazzling image for all to see Like Venus, A goddess in my mind A divine gift for all mankind Like Earth, Her heart is where I make my home An aura so real, I never feel alone Like Mars, Her hair, it runs with red she annihilates any tear I shed Like Jupiter, She has the largest heart She herself: a work of art Like Saturn, Beauty surrounds her like a ring So light and divine, almost floating Like Uranus, She goes against the grain Free from the world, she breaks the chain Like Neptune, Her passion rages like the wind she sets out like a storm to rescind Like Pluto,                   So distant but never forgotten Dancing for eternity around the sun
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Aug 20, 2015
Aug 20, 2015 at 10:24 AM UTC
Cosmic Girl
My love for you is not a tragic beautiful love story such as Romeo and Juliet. My love for you is like the love story of the moon and the sun. My love for you is a dying star ready to burst and create a giant black hole. My love for you is like the universe, a beautiful enormous unknown. My love for you is an unexplored galaxy that fascinates the most philosophic poets. My love for you is like Venus, too beautiful for the eyes, but, come closer and it will burn you to the ground. My love for you is like Neptune, too distant and too cold. My love for you is like Pluto, even though people don't talk about it anymore, he's still there, screaming for recognition, screaming "please, I'm still here, notice me", a silent cry that makes you wonder that if a planet as beautiful and as unique as Pluto can be forgotten, why can't I forget something so fragile and small? My love for you is like the love story of the moon and the sun. The sun dies every night to let the moon breathe. They will always love one another but they will never touch each other. They love at distance. They rarely meet, they rarely have the chance to be together. But when they do, they create the most gorgeous phenomenon that you will ever see. Someday the sun will explode, someday the moon will disappear, someday their love will die and there's going to be nothing here to tell the story about how they loved so fearlessly. And that's how I know that our love is like the sun and the moon. Too distant to touch. Too beautiful to go unnoticed. Too cold to burn out. Too sweet to be bitter. Too precious to not be treasured.
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Mar 28, 2014
Mar 28, 2014 at 4:56 PM UTC
How the moon loves the sun
My love for you is not a tragic beautiful love story such as Romeo and Juliet. My love for you is like the love story of the moon and the sun. My love for you is a dying star ready to burst and create a giant black hole. My love for you is like the universe, a beautiful enormous unknown. My love for you is an unexplored galaxy that fascinates the most philosophic poets. My love for you is like Venus, too beautiful for the eyes, but, come closer and it will burn you to the ground. My love for you is like Neptune, too distant and too cold. My love for you is like Pluto, even though people don't talk about it anymore, he's still there, screaming for recognition, screaming "please, I'm still here, notice me", a silent cry that makes you wonder that if a planet as beautiful and as unique as Pluto can be forgotten, why can't I forget something so fragile and small? My love for you is like the love story of the moon and the sun. The sun dies every night to let the moon breathe. They will always love one another but they will never touch each other. They love at distance. They rarely meet, they rarely have the chance to be together. But when they do, they create the most gorgeous phenomenon that you will ever see. Someday the sun will explode, someday the moon will disappear, someday their love will die and there's going to be nothing here to tell the story about how they loved so fearlessly. And that's how I know that our love is like the sun and the moon. Too distant to touch. Too beautiful to go unnoticed. Too cold to burn out. Too sweet to be bitter. Too precious to not be treasured.
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Her silver wings dipped in gold soared through our hearts couragion bold Purified election supple selection I am the piece you nuzzle to complete the puzzle Lost and lonely the sun's warning Pluto's cobalt seas Uranus storming Beyond the horizon Beyond 4g of Verizon Astral forming She's the morning
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May 27, 2017
May 27, 2017 at 8:59 PM UTC
Her Silver Wings
A hymn to paired planethood: Venus hits Pluto as death, in cold orbit, collides with biology smashing to fragments: demonic astrology (more a black hole than a love-star, it’s true though). Cynical cure for Eve’s womanly grievance Concupiscent consequence: lust’s bitter fruit – ah the thought… changing Sin into mere inconvenience. Margaret sang her seductive refrain about weeding the garden and progress and light. Her sisters should view her with scornful disdain but instead have adopted her murderous rite. With sang-froid she promoted her racist eugenics (as if she had never herself been a fetus), condemning her heirs to postmodern polemics while nurturing ardent desires to defeat us. Suppressing the lives that she flushed down the drain she would liberate Death – and resistance was vain. As a midwife to modern life (though on the “anti” side) Old Matron Margie racked up quite a legacy singing the praises of sanctioned infanticide calling the shots for the coming sick century. Planning, quite calmly, to “cleanse” certain races her zeal was empowered by murderous graces. She labored to bring us such pearls of subduction: “dilation and curettage”, “women’s autonomy” “viable fetus”, “procedure”, a “suction” Hippocrates retches to hear the taxonomy; words that turn Life into mere reproduction. She enters the realms of the ****** and the motherless roundly condemned by her feminine otherness. Man’s first protection: the God-given womb which no infant should have to regard as their tomb. Dismembered dark cherubs, assembling, greet her as demons (in scrubs) holding baby-parts meet her. Long may she burn with the medical cynics this mother of Moloch, this founder of clinics. Convenience is king when abortion’s the Queen and the profits swell big with each nubile teen… yet the fruit of such carnage remains to be seen. I send her this song as a funeral wreath and a card inked in blood. You may read what is there: “To the Matrix Supreme of our culture of death from the souls of the infants you slew on the earth. May your torment increase with the children you bear.”
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Sep 10, 2015
Sep 10, 2015 at 9:09 PM UTC
Margaret Sanger’s Entry Into Hell
A hymn to paired planethood: Venus hits Pluto as death, in cold orbit, collides with biology smashing to fragments: demonic astrology (more a black hole than a love-star, it’s true though). Cynical cure for Eve’s womanly grievance Concupiscent consequence: lust’s bitter fruit – ah the thought… changing Sin into mere inconvenience. Margaret sang her seductive refrain about weeding the garden and progress and light. Her sisters should view her with scornful disdain but instead have adopted her murderous rite. With sang-froid she promoted her racist eugenics (as if she had never herself been a fetus), condemning her heirs to postmodern polemics while nurturing ardent desires to defeat us. Suppressing the lives that she flushed down the drain she would liberate Death – and resistance was vain. As a midwife to modern life (though on the “anti” side) Old Matron Margie racked up quite a legacy singing the praises of sanctioned infanticide calling the shots for the coming sick century. Planning, quite calmly, to “cleanse” certain races her zeal was empowered by murderous graces. She labored to bring us such pearls of subduction: “dilation and curettage”, “women’s autonomy” “viable fetus”, “procedure”, a “suction” Hippocrates retches to hear the taxonomy; words that turn Life into mere reproduction. She enters the realms of the ****** and the motherless roundly condemned by her feminine otherness. Man’s first protection: the God-given womb which no infant should have to regard as their tomb. Dismembered dark cherubs, assembling, greet her as demons (in scrubs) holding baby-parts meet her. Long may she burn with the medical cynics this mother of Moloch, this founder of clinics. Convenience is king when abortion’s the Queen and the profits swell big with each nubile teen… yet the fruit of such carnage remains to be seen. I send her this song as a funeral wreath and a card inked in blood. You may read what is there: “To the Matrix Supreme of our culture of death from the souls of the infants you slew on the earth. May your torment increase with the children you bear.”
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Enter—the transitive nightfall of diamonds. There are crop circles dancing in a wave on Neptune, with corn rows gleaming from the man on Mars. Tail feathers toss toward a flute near Venus. Fly me like a rainbow to the nearest star. Sirius B has nothing for me. Anunnaki women want to dig my scene. Don’t take me seriously; I’m bluffing like a rookie with a pair of queens. Moon Unit lands with a Zappa on Pluto. Yoda on Saturn plays steel guitar. Moses rides in on a doggone quasar. Captain Trips sleeps by a medicine jar. Sirius B has something for me. Hot Nibiru babes try to make my dream. Don’t greet me furiously. I’ll drop you like a comet heading to the east. Exit—the transitive nightfall of diamonds.
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Jul 30, 2014
Jul 30, 2014 at 9:13 PM UTC
Cosmic Debris
They called me Pluto from afar, and I, Nameless and void, embraced the title With the force of a thousand burning suns, Each one like the star I loved ever so dearly, An immense sphere of fire which had me Helplessly, hopelessly bound by its gravity, Caught in its orbit from the beginning of time. They called me Pluto still from further still, Speaking my name as the orbit of myself And their water world drove us apart, And I gladly, worshipfully rejoiced – I had a name; I was no longer void. I was distant still, but they called me Pluto, And I wore my name like regalia, A crown upon my lifeless skin. They called me Pluto still as they Waded further from the cosmic shore That was their home, sending probes That touched the regolith of Mars – There was life, and light, spreading out from Planet Earth, So I waited, hoping they’d come for me Sooner rather than later, tomorrow and not two centuries from now. They called me Pluto even as they stripped me of my name – I was ‘planet’ no longer, And I grew colder and bitterer as I spun, Because I knew things they did not, Things about the rise and fall of civilizations. They did not see what I had seen, They had not been watching Since the dawn-time. They called me Pluto, And they cried my name As I watched them burn, The light of the flickering candle in the dark That had once been humankind Flaring, more luminous than the sun for one bright, shining moment, Then fading. They called me Pluto in the aftermath, As if I were the God of the underworld, Guarding their lost souls from my far-off perch, Shepherding that which could not be led, But I was not their God, even if I’d once fathomed them as mine. So here I wait, patient, eternal, void and barren, For them to leave me lonely when they no longer Dare to speak my name from the realm I am the supposed guardian of; They called me Pluto.
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Jun 26, 2016
Jun 26, 2016 at 7:46 AM UTC
They Called Me Pluto
They called me Pluto from afar, and I, Nameless and void, embraced the title With the force of a thousand burning suns, Each one like the star I loved ever so dearly, An immense sphere of fire which had me Helplessly, hopelessly bound by its gravity, Caught in its orbit from the beginning of time. They called me Pluto still from further still, Speaking my name as the orbit of myself And their water world drove us apart, And I gladly, worshipfully rejoiced – I had a name; I was no longer void. I was distant still, but they called me Pluto, And I wore my name like regalia, A crown upon my lifeless skin. They called me Pluto still as they Waded further from the cosmic shore That was their home, sending probes That touched the regolith of Mars – There was life, and light, spreading out from Planet Earth, So I waited, hoping they’d come for me Sooner rather than later, tomorrow and not two centuries from now. They called me Pluto even as they stripped me of my name – I was ‘planet’ no longer, And I grew colder and bitterer as I spun, Because I knew things they did not, Things about the rise and fall of civilizations. They did not see what I had seen, They had not been watching Since the dawn-time. They called me Pluto, And they cried my name As I watched them burn, The light of the flickering candle in the dark That had once been humankind Flaring, more luminous than the sun for one bright, shining moment, Then fading. They called me Pluto in the aftermath, As if I were the God of the underworld, Guarding their lost souls from my far-off perch, Shepherding that which could not be led, But I was not their God, even if I’d once fathomed them as mine. So here I wait, patient, eternal, void and barren, For them to leave me lonely when they no longer Dare to speak my name from the realm I am the supposed guardian of; They called me Pluto.
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you shine bright as the sun you're as beautiful as the stars in the night sky you're more brilliant than a shooting star more rare than a comet i'm red with anger much like mars over not being in the same room as yours your blue eyes draw me in and make me feel safe and comfortable much like uranus and neptune their beautiful pale blue color matches your eyes don't forget the kindhearted yellow color of venus named after the goddess of love aphrodite that planet can represent my love for you because you're my light in the darkness of all space and to end this know that if you leave like pluto i'll miss you dearly so please stay another lightyear and be my moon together we'll create harmony within ourselves and within each other because we're all stars
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Sep 13, 2016
Sep 13, 2016 at 9:02 PM UTC
solar system romance
Upon the shores of Malachite Next to the cobalt seas Under molten silver slivers of moonbeams That shatter on the crystal icing Covering the diamonded waterfall By the golden sand . . . Gather the Unicorns Of Neptune , Uranus , and Pluto and beyond Playfully cavorting between Steel seas and emeralded mountains On the frozen sands of time unchanged For a thousand Earth's comings But it's just a dream A lunacy , a nothingness in the night All my Unicorns have taken to flight And were never there Or were they ? All the frozen seas . . . Are now warm Florida Keys Under a full August moon And all the mountains . . . Are impossible fears That have faded into prairies Swelling like seas And there are no proof prints In the sands of time Of a far away race Frozen in time
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Mar 11, 2015
Mar 11, 2015 at 10:05 PM UTC
By The Shores Of Malachite
Better to be Pyramus and Thisbe than god Apollo and Daphne? As love oft triumphed by envy. Oh to be Abelard and Heloise or Juliet you and Romeo me! Cleopatra, Marc Antony, Orpheus, and Eurydice! Martyrs to Cupid, were you wary of the price to pay? Did you find peace from Plato’s coined mental disease in Pluto’s long halls of Hades or the self induced daily shade of trees? What of love dooming kin to Achilles? When Dido and Aeneas meet is her suicide guaranteed? Pray tell us, can true love ever be free!
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May 27, 2019
May 27, 2019 at 9:14 AM UTC
Ode to Famed Loves
I'm like pluto, Rejected. No longer belonging with the others and their fascinating qualities. I'm like pluto, Rejected Just a mistake
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Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 11:21 PM UTC
Pluto