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julian May 26
its been a month
funny how time flies
it seems only yesterday
you were there
holding my hand
singing along to showtunes in the car
we were happier than we had ever been
i shouldve known it would end
life has a hard-on for ******* me over
ruining all the good in my life
whyd it happen to you
of all people
we had a lot of plans
college together
an apartment in the city
maybe getting married
adopting a kid or two
spending another thirteen years as best friends
and then some
but those plans never work out
do they?
i dont know how ill move on
i listened to the cd
the karaoke we did at the arcade two years ago
livin on a prayer
we were fifteen
freshman in high school
even when youre scream-singing
you have an amazing voice
you had an amazing voice
i envy the angels who hear you singing now
save a song for me
i hope this finds you
wherever you are
i figured polaris would help
you are my home
always have been
always will be
ill see you soon
Gale L Mccoy Feb 18
the night Polaris kissed me
i was a princess trapped in a tower
hair too short to reach the window frame
let alone to be a lifeline for salvation
i could see them from every pane of glass
i was kept behind

i had been blowing kisses
to Polaris
as if they were my lover
for several seasons past
that star and the space i was contained
were the only things that stayed the same

and they
they they they
came a long way just to shine a little

a tiny
tiny tiny tiny
light crowned in a foreign world

still substance enough to
return a kiss
from a prompt 'the night Polaris kissed me'
Umi Apr 2018
Constallations, a septette for shining stars
Seven in number, aline like no other, a fusion sign in melting white,
Caught in stellar evolution in the arts of the nuclear, they expand,
Red giants, the final step in their life, before they either blow the layer off gently tossing it into the depth of space, or they go out with a bang
The fall of these great stars, gifting light which is likely to grow life,
A nova which drags their orbital children to the deepest abyss releasing enough energy for a heavenly meltdown breaking hell loose
Stars, standing upon the pillars of creaton planted in there like trees,
Polaris, burn bright in white till you blow up, hell fire don't go out,
In line, with the others, you form a radiant great, or rather big dipper,
Oh you blazing fixed star, northern, luminous and majestic, shine on,
Let this dream fill you up with energy, rumbling deep inside, still you are satisfied, with the reactions, with speed much greater than sound,
A force which would easily break the earths ground, shatter it within moments of a violent dance of might and power beyond any reason,
For the millions, the septentrion shall shine on in a changing dipper,
Until the moment they die.

~ Umi
Janelle Tanguin Jun 2018
I knew I loved you
since the fourth feather light forehead kiss.
In your presence
I am isolated in utopian bliss.

An island overlooking
glowing hydrogen masses
of what looks like Pacific fires,
or Polaris,
or just you.

Small suns floating in nautical blue,
showered in Pearl Harbor reds
and paper kamikaze sunset hues.

My high sandcastle walls fall
a million grains all over the beach
and I am defenseless against the tide
that is about to swallow me.

I melt away,
let my demons burn,
open the gates,
and let the little girl escape.

I look at you
and everything
is made out of light.

You make every day
worth waking up to.
Jade Sep 2018
V. Ethereal

Maybe being drunk
is the closest I will
ever get to zero gravity--
to walking on the moon.

My fingers curled
around the neck of a liquor bottle,  
I wander to my bedroom window,
as a tipsy weightlessness settles
amongst my limbs
(and my thoughts).

Swaying slightly,
I part the curtains and,
in my intoxicated stupor,
search for Polaris in the night sky,
point to it,
press a clumsy hand to the glass,
convince myself that
I have captured the star,
and all the omniscient power
it possesses,
beneath my finger tips.

Star light,

{lips pant--

star bright,

{my breath appears a catalyst
as the window pane glazes over
in an impenetrable paroxysm of fog}

first star I see tonight,

{I take a swig,
raise the bottle--
a toast
to the cosmos}

I wish I may,

{Lashes meet in
silent matrimony}

I wish I might,

{Behind closed, desperate eyes,
ribbons of colour dance
towards me in a disoriented jig}

have this wish I wish tonight--

to be
obliterated by the very galaxy
that birthed
these grieving bones
and this tumultuous heart.

Because only then--
as the Gods paint the Night
with the innards of my soul,
acrylic purples
churning against the blackness--
will I become what I
have always dreamed
of becoming:


Don't be a stranger--check out my blog!

(P.S. Use a computer for optimal experience)
―Go Forth
Flourish in The Light
Of The
Estival Sol,
Elysium of the Soul,
Once you have vanquished
The Stygian,
Your Soul
Awaits You―

~I bid you
Immortal Heartsease
Armistice of Ataraxia:
The Reverberation of our Souls
In the Key of Elysium~.

I. Archean Prelude

The echoes
of your
Memories of
The Light & Airwaves
Pine to
Bloom in Reminiscence
Over the
Days of Yore.

II. The Echoes of Existentiality

We are all atomic particles;
Molecular Particles,
Of an aromatic
Omnipresent Mist:
The Cosmo-Plexus of Empyreal Love

―Echo forth comrades―

Into the Empyrean,
Etherealized Lightscape
Until the
Visage of Creation
Enskies us
To the exalted
El Dorado~

II. Tempus Fugit

The Promise
Of the
Is nigh:

The Yesteryears
Distant Ages,
Archean Aeons;

(Eventuality of Existence)

Our Bygone Days
Of Lovelit, Loveless Life,
Antiquate and
Our Soulwaves
The Spirit of
The Ancient of Days.

III. Nova Cosmogony

Betwixt the Realms
Of the
Beneficent Matriarch Mirror,
Terraqueous Gaia
Unfurls the Vista,
Your Fulgurant Dreamscape:

Only the Sapient of Sages
Doth denude:

The Incorporeal Incarnation
Virtue, it’s vesture,

The Decrepitude of Withering
Dovens the Divine
In the
Vestibule of Vanity,
Sanctimony & Superciliousness
Thence deliquesce;
Bearing womb of Light.

IV. Celestial Morphology

Unveiling the Substance
Of Space and Time;
Spirit and Soul;
Euphony, Harmony;
Atrophy, Intrepidity
All are Entity

Pristine yet vacuous,
Flourishing into
Mystical and shimmering
Nothingness, gropes
For Meta-Astral ―form;

Ventus Divinitas,
The Cosmogonist’s Agenda
Through the
Inchoative Universe.

V. The Temporal Hither:

Her Genesis
Vestal Vicissitudes:

She is
The Twilit Quiver
Uprising in
Darts of the Dawn,

Arrows of Antemeridian
Light Cascade
Our epidermis
With the incendiary
Sovereignty of Sol.

Chars the Canvas
Of Ethereal Skies,
Moonlit, Martyred Mind’s Sky;
The Eve’s Imperator
Inquisitive Spirit Eyes.

By Luminaries
We’re ensorcelled
Corpulent with thought.

~Wondering upon,
Vacuous a fathomed
Cosmogenesis. ~

VI. Tempus et Spatium:

~There are
Edicts unseen
The Esoteric of the Macrocosm

Only the
Transcendent of Tellurians
May tell of
The Life-Rending,
Sunder forth:

Semantics in Constellations;
Gaian Whispers of Sylvan Tale
The Arboreal Wisdom,
Musicality in Zephyrs ruffling Trees of Vale
Hearken unto further
The Winged-Symphonic Bees
(The Bombinating Orchestra)
Soul Untethered = [ Meta-Consciousness ^ Spiritus de Liberty]

Einstein’s General Relativity= [Spatium ^ Matter ↔ Energy ^ Motion]


(Time & Space
The height,
The width,
The depth,
The breadth)
The Empyrean One
Enshrined in Pantheon
Our Virginal, Vestal Souls
Efflorescent Eternity
In our hearts?
(Ecclesiastes 3:11)

Time is fickle
Hydrean Leviathan:

Whilst ye
Voyage her
Seven Seas,
Moor naught
In her
Elapsed chronology;
Her caprice
And ire
Shalt not
Be quelled.

Be roused
Unto her
Perpetuity of
Aqueous Abyssal, Dream Deep Sea;

∞ Her Moments ∞
∞ Extinguished ∞
∞ At Birth. ∞

∞ Eternally, ∞
∞ Reincarnated; ∞

∞The Cosmic Spectrum∞
∞Is Infinite∞

∞Excelsior, Godspeed∞

∞ Elo’him ∞

VII. Ultima Thule:

Empyrean souls,
Doth abide
Pearlescent raiment.

The Cosmogenesis is our Dreamscape:
We are all a cosmos,
Expanding, contracting;
Ebbing, flowing;
Hitherto and thitherto;
Red-Shift and Blue-Shift.

Until the Mellifluous Morn,
Whence the
Zephyr of Life
Reverberates the Musicality
Of The
Arboreal Sages.

Terraqueous Gaia
The Hope of the Ages.
Spirits betwixt
Greater Eden and She’ol.

Count the stars,
Enumerate every
Constellation in The Cosmos
Of your Soulscape scintillating
Upon thine Mind’s Sky.

Whence Luna and Sol
By the Wisdom
Of your starlight.
Are benighted, beseech
The Ancient of Days

For within The Supernal Wavelength
Of the Hallowed Dove.
We glean refuge
Our Aegis,

Awaiting the
Golden, incendiary pinions
Of the
Revenant Phoenix to resurrect us.
Allow the Holy Spirit
to be your Polaris,
― to Elysium.

~By Agape’s Armistice:
The Peaks of Heartsease.
Commune with the Cosmos,
Salvera y Jiustizia
I plead.~”

~This Sacred Lotus seed
Was sown
Into the
Into the Soil of your Souls
, ―By the Astral.

You are a melody,
Sung by
A coloratura,
Burst into a
Tapestry of Fioritura:

Of Hope,

(May you
The Virtues of the Lord)


(The [Your] Living Soul)


(The World)

The Apotheosis of the Astral Flame
Celestial Morphology © is the multi-epistled poem which I sired during the Estival vicissitude. Twas an ineffable cadenza that exhales of the incorporeal essence of mine entity. I had been toiling in sweat, blood, and tears over a written project at the time; consequently, this is the thematic poem begotten.
     It transmutes the zeitgeist of my summer into the Golden Raiment of Polymathy. The oppressed coals of my woe erupted from the igneous core of my heart as these adamantine words. This starry soundscape is the astral crux of my work during 2018.
      I think that there was a vast expanse of my understanding of the world that had been repressed. It had almost been veiled from the heightened sight of my Over-Soul. This was in my sheltered, infantile longing to elude heartache. To keep the flesh- sundering maladies of the world outside my apartment walls: love, passion, iniquity, penitence, forgiveness, piety, cultural fission, intolerance, injustice, indignation, divinity, melody, mysticism, schism, mania, trepidation, faith, wisdom, darkness, and temporally transcendent pain.
          This was my transcribed anarchy against a Fascist Regime. A country exalting body that calls its denizens creationists whilst they slaughter every creation under the sun. The sociological edicts that dictate how art should be produced, the pace, that tell us not to speak of discrimination and mold us to turn a blind eye to the harsh realities of 21st-century postmodern society heavied the air. I just needed to vent and let every bit of internalized asperity or self-directed hatred out in a beautifying paradigm.
      I'm realizing more and more that life is tough and quite frankly, short. I'd rather write for an infinitude on one poem, for the sake of saving myself, rather than compromising my own integrity (and creative latitude). The writing was becoming a drag: less about quality, and more about quantity. Thus, after months of phantasmagorical drought, I bestow a glistening glade of sterling words.
I hope this poem reverberates upon thine soul waves. Please comment as I am open to any feedback; moreover, I beseech it of thee. My deepest gratitude comrades.

Excelsior Forevermore,

Sanders Maurice Foulke III
multi sumus Apr 23
Ascending unto the sill
    to behold thy soul and to gather those which have fallen

For by their depth fathom one may

And upon the sodden...adrift within the still
   Polaris found cresting the horizon
kingjay Dec 2018
Ngunit walang kaparis ang hinahanap na piyesa
Di mabibili gaya ng rubi't iba pang mamahaling bato
Tuluyan man pinabayaan ito'y di mapapalitan ng bago
Iisa lang ang puso ng saging sa mundo

Ang pagitan ay sinagtaon sa kinatatayuan at mithiin
Anggulo ng teleskopyo ay bahagya na pahilis
Lumihis ang tanaw sa Polaris
Paano matunton kung nalito sa direksyon
Maabot kaya ng radyasyon?

Guhitan nang matuwid ang Norte
Kumakapit pa sa pinaglalaban ang pobre
Sa dibinong galamay ng sansinukob
ang tumulong para hagilapin ang nawawalang bituin
at sulsihin tulad sa bahay-gagamba

Maitim na imahe ay nananakal
Tinangka na dakmain ito ngunit di masalat
Kumalma at hinay hinay gumulong,
inikot ang busol
Naalimpungatan nang lumabas datapwat panaginip ang lahat

Munting ninanais ay maisakatuparan kung ano ang nasa isip
Nang hindi na makagalaw, susunduin ng awa
At may aampon- habag ni Bathala
Mamamayan ng Kanyang paraiso'y manunumpa
Owlman Jan 18
Some things we long for to engage
Whiskey, vacation or honeymoon
Might not be all on the same page
constant repetition in mind "Soon".
Whiskey while gazing at Polaris
Two weeks listening to ocean waves
Feeling pavements of sunny Paris
After that, it fades just like a haze.
Whiskey on the porch in the rain
Coffee in cafe Pouchkine in frost
A different joy but the same gain
Revisit another time, memory rust.
A book is the same, maybe better
You feel it better, letter for letter
Whenever you revisit a good book
It always has a euphoric fresh look.
Antithesis Feb 25
The wind brushed past my terrace
City lights, bloomed into a Polaris
Stylistic expression allured my eye
For our city's beauty could not hide
Beyond the presence of our vie
Lies lead us to open pride
Old architecture lay anew
Upon the veil of our closed view
The cigarette my mouth held
Fell down an endless abyss
Thats depth seemed unparalleled
Although the city provided bliss

But I couldn't see the skyline
Was the skyline ever there
or did I just imagine it
Now reality shone through

Bliss lost its flavor
Depth was shallow
The abyss had ended
My cigarette had started a fire
I could see, but was it real?
New architecture lost its polish
Pride was only an illusion
Our vie lead to hatred
There was no beauty hidden within
My eyes wouldn't close
The lights turned off
And the wind brushed past my terrace
do clouds obscure your
lite-brite stars tonight,
or is this clouding
within my own eyes?
polaris, polaris,
i have been unfaithful
and forgotten you, companion
to a young father, a young
mother, though they didn't
know it yet, floating all night
along the churchill, too lazy
(too contented?) to even
stop to make camp, both
of us half-sleeping, her
head my heaven, her
pillow my chest, but me
always with one eye glancing
up in appreciation, like you had
a secret to share, 433 light-years
away, like you knew how many
souls were in that freighter
canoe on our way back to
the world, one more than
when we left... was it really
almost 30 years ago?

the river is iced completely over on
this night, this night, this awful
******* night that i will
never forget a moment
of, and i need to make
my way to the lands to the
south before the winter sets
in, through the forests that she
fed, and tonight the adultery
against that guiding star and
my foolish ways have caught
up with me, fully, completely... but
please, i beg you, take me back pole star,
i promise not to stray so far, not again,
not ever, forever, not forever ever,
and i will never demand any
other boon, save i may ask one, one
last final wish... but that too is dream.

yes, my past has finally
caught up with me, and my
north star is gone, the heavens
now stand so empty, a sword piercing
my heart that so deserves piercing,
the tip of a flaming sword as sharp
as these failing eyes used
to be, sharper than i could
ever have dreamed of, no,
this can't be real, this can't
be real, this cannot be, that's
it, i'm sleeping, for this is my
worst nightmare, and nightmares
only come when you sleep, don't
they? don't they? DONTTHEY???

i know
there is no one
no one out there, not
anymore, the smell of gangrene
has driven her away, as it did
her mother those years before, by
nurture or nature, i have failed
beyond miserably the only really
important job i've ever had,
the only really important
job that there even is,
and i can't stop these
weak, disgusting, self-pitying
******* tears, what kind of man
am i as i cry for my own pain and
abandon hers, crawling like
something slug-like along a
memory of rocky outcropping
of our once precious canadian shield,
crawling in circles, my face pressed
into the rotting fibre so sadly wasted
on this forest floor, redundant when
the mills all closed down, wishing on
you anyways through this blindness,
the most impossible of all wishes,
but most likely the one you've heard
more than any other through aeons:

to go back in time armed with
the knowledge that i have now,
saving her from my same fate,
being the father i wish i had been,
even while not quite knowing where
i went wrong aside from rotten genes,
but then who am i kidding, i know as
much as i know anything that
somehow this is all my fault.
i don't know how exactly,
i don't know the mechanics,
but this is pure me, the
only possible point
of origin. i'm so sorry.
i'm so so so sorry.

i know of my culpability
as well as i used to know how
to find you, true north, before
north, south, east, west,
all blended into one tonight,
and there is nowhere left for
me to go. or maybe only
one place left, and how
i ache for that last ice
cold embrace, like i
used to ache for the
warmth found between
thighs; she is the last lover
of us all, and she doesn't
have any discrimination
between thighs freezing
cold, and eyes doubly so,
waiting just beyond the
light fading so fast
and all goes blurrier
and blurrier until
all i see is the
dark, the dark,
dark... dark...
lights out.

clouds obscure stars
pole star, i need you
crawling in circles

& putting the week to rest

54.40 - alcohol heart

for my daughter, i hope you break free, but i cannot do it for you
lmbf 13h
and you know it shouldn’t matter because there are other fish in this sea, other boys you can give your love to,  other girls that want to love you too because you learned in physics that all humans are made of stardust and so  you know you deserve someone that looks at you nothing less than the way an astronomer admires a constellation,  you know you deserve someone that looks at you like you are Polaris — the star on the bottom of Little Dipper — you may be little but you are the star that holds the constellation of your family, your team, your friends, your community’s love together. but yellow was always your favorite color,
and on the Hertzsprung-Russell Diagram
it represents the stars with the most fire.
you know you deserve better
but it doesn’t stop you
from wishing you
could cry
by the river
one more time
— that endless stream —
of souls

as if you are just a revolving door, a pit stop on the way to a better destination, as if being on the bottom of a constellation means you are just a stepping stone
to the starry flames that don’t burn
as brightly, that
won’t die quite
relaunching this page.
Jade Jul 2018
There goes Lady Fate,
donned in solar sparks
and her lace corset
whose  overt promiscuity
catches the attention of
one unsuspecting astronaut–
his helm fogs as he exhales,
his breath crude and lascivious.
Even Neptune’s eyes themselves
glitter wetly with passion
as she struts towards Polaris in
her pinprick stilettos.

She adjusts her stance accordingly:

I. Purse lips into a smoulder
(might as well look
pretty while ya get the job done.)

II. Aim for the desired target
(that there’s the bull’s eye.)

III. Wreak havoc
just as any Fate is meant to do.
(But, of course.)

She picks up her staff and fires.

The universe tremors
in an unbridled spiral
of colour and chaos
as the planets
d    a    r    t
about like billiards,                                    
                          colliding/|\with/|\ the/|\ stars

who,  in the midst of the madness,
d i v e r g e and c
r* o* s s
for fear of being vanquished.

A cluster of mismatched constellations
and forsaken cosmic particles
settle into a state of
mutual negligence and destruction.
And, together, they liquefy into
a festering pool of molten silver.

Lady Fate grins–
yes, she has the stars right
where she wants them now–
and, in a final act of defiance,
she strikes against the earth
and watches with satisfaction as
it hurtles towards the silver
and sinks down into the molten
like an eight ball.
(And everyone knows it’s
Game Over
once you’ve sunk the eight ball).

From where she stands–
bent over Polaris
in seductive pretentiousness —
she relishes
in the screams
of some wretched lover–
the first to ever be
betrayed by the stars.
Wrecked in the stormy ocean of a love lost you were
the anchor that kept me from washing further off course
in that depth of dark despair you were a North Star in my sky
you understood my pain even if you arrived when my eyes were dry
for in the loud silence of depression you heard my cry
and made me feel special when I was all wound and scar...
it was the end of the road for me but then you came along
that's why I'd gladly be convicted if loving you is wrong.

— The End —