"satelite" poems
Time is moving
In a stream of wonderous murderous intending, sacrificing sadness,
My ****** devotion, ought to shed blood in a distorted dark was but an perishable spring dream, looping without an end through nights,
On sleepless nights, the ghosts of the past gets stuck within a river of pure thoughts, a lake birthing memories in secret, subsconsciously,
Discard your common sense, sacrifice your sanity for just this second,
When the moon stands high in the sky, a bonfire seals the nights start
To its creeping shadows, they do not crackor sparkle under the twinkling stars of this celestial ceiling of pure majesty for nyctophiles,
Even our natural satelite agrees, dying itself into a lunatic scarlet red,
Darkness upon darkness, with layers of shadows overlapping one another as the light begins to dim, thanks to the disappearing moon,
An imaginated landscape, created from only pure rage and fury,
But whereabouts of the heart, are likely to be lost to the thought of love I carry within a broken chest of treasury, losing all emotions,
Even if my scarlet eyes were to be losing their ability yet to see,
I would be able to count on you to guide me, through the everlasting,
The dream I awoken from, was a moonlit night turning crimson, losing its radiance through the soft eclipse of the moon, gently, slowly
But you were there, within the far away landscape drawn in my heart
~ Umi
Mar 30, 2018
Mar 30, 2018 at 7:36 PM UTC
The earth's people are corrupted,
Listen to what I have to confess!
If there are emotions behind their motives, they will search and look into things which they should have been better off unseen, forgotten,
If their wish is to become alike a demon, they will dye their hand red,
If their desire leads them to be angel like, they will dye their hand in innocence and purity of the good deeds in order to achieve this goal,
The sweet poison of a lie's flavour is very sweet, likely to be consumed by those who are afraid to confront the cruel, harsh truth,
Bound in constant change, the true nature of a human remains, within the depths of their soul, somewhere deep inside, sealed away,
Admire the moon, as the remains, called corpse rots under stardust,
Does its reflected light begin to wander ? We will see, here at eternity,
After all, this natural satelite, becomes more distant due to tidal effects, leaving us behind, even if it is simply small steps it has taken,
Being forgiven from the endless purgatory, the suffering one may call
"Living" within the transience of this planet which comes to ruin through their greedy hands, desires to make more income and wealth
Drawn out in long shadows, through winding fate amongst strings,
After all, this is a pure stream of sadness.
~Umi
Apr 7, 2018
Apr 7, 2018 at 6:00 PM UTC
You're making a great circle around my Earth,
my green-blue sphere,
baby, you trickle sweet Carolina gold satelite-honey, daffodil swans snaking
through your orbit
while snatches of caramel pool between my lips.
such a tease
spinning those slender hips a sliver above my atmosphere
so that my fingers just brush the frills
of your skirt.
You push up between Orion and the hilt of his sword
tossing taunt eyes toward my galaxy.
I'm wide, I'm intergalactic,
I've got stars in the back of my throat,
electric and running hot for you.
Apr 17, 2010
Apr 17, 2010 at 10:46 PM UTC
His eyes a forest, leaves and moss
Yours a sea, sky and butterfly wings
Both ringed by petals of moon daisy
From this satelite they look like
images of the Earth: blue, green, white, round, alive, spinning
Sun is placed in the middle of the daisy
They are rotating around again
Gave pieces of their hearts in phases
New crescent to first quarter, waxing gibbous to full moon and-
Moon stopped to a halt, it doesn't
want to move
As their eyes laced around the Sun
Came the solstice and equinox
Flowers turns to Sun turns to leaves turns to snowflakes
round and round, wheels within wheels, a cycle
The tears of sun gets into the sky of Earth when it cry
Earth is shut down and people start
hanging hopes and prays and wishes on drops of tears
When Earths is back they had
a piece of sea in their
Earth's a pretty place to observe
other planets we can't live in
Perfect start to fall in love with what's cramped in it people and places.
Nov 24, 2014
Nov 24, 2014 at 10:11 AM UTC
A few years ago
Writers were chained
To typewriters.
Imprisoned by words.
Filling rolled white pages,
Onion-skinned and erasable.
They knew where
Their chains ended.
Today, I'm tethered
To a satelite,
Linked,
With no end
In sight.
May 4, 2015
May 4, 2015 at 10:02 AM UTC
If we could PVR our lives,
We'd pause at moments
Of delight;
Rewind when memory's
Not quite right;
Fast forward during
Times of strife;
Hit mute if we get too loud,
Reboot when we act too proud.
I've moments like
A satelite stream
Of unseen waves
Directing themes
In 3D pixels,
And onetime dreams.
Mar 22, 2015
Mar 22, 2015 at 2:15 PM UTC
Scaling a dizzy height I struggle to achieve, as the ladder wobbles my jegs become jelly. Step by step I grasp each rung, dreaming of the peak.
A secretary returns my smile, her note is exchanged in the wink of an eye. To race like formula-one and hit a perfect swing , the satelite spins as the thread is stripped.
She lived for golf and danced like James Brown whilst, I surfed the airwaves seeking a new sound.
Oct 8, 2018
Oct 8, 2018 at 2:58 AM UTC
Spent the night
Tasted starlight
Found satelite
But i didn't know what i got
Everything's not going like what it's like
Unsure that i'm not given up
Being the one that always forgot
Just like an astronaut
Crawling the night to find a new start
Saying "Hello" to the new gravity
Trying to solve a mistery
That maybe causing tragedy
No one gonna say sorry
Even you're rising fury
Hey, you there!
Yeah you, Mr. Hate
I was born from the way i've been treated
Snapped my finger and 'boom' i was fade
I thought i need some little escape
I try to find the final gate
And get out of this outerspace
Jan 6, 2019
Jan 6, 2019 at 9:08 AM UTC
Soft sounds of rain through
The open window. Each drop
Landing in wet grass is
A hammer to our hearts.
To feel alone is nothing new,
But I see myself through satelite
Images, afloat dead centering
The ocean,
Biting and clawing at the
Ropes that hold my raft
Together; too afraid of water
Not to drown.
Silence like tanks rolling out
Of a devastated war zone.
Let's wrap this up, and my
Pulse escalates to an emergency
Frequency open to recieve any
Mayday or SOS, but my hands
Are too numb to telegraph.
Instead I find myself wiping
Rain and sweat from my face
With mud covered fingers in the
Headlights of a parked car,
Digging a grave
The size of something dead that
Holds secret things, like Love's
True name, or God's, or
Those of my
Future children if ever they be,
Or the hidden meanings behind a
Brutally meaningless
Break-up.
Aug 9, 2017
Aug 9, 2017 at 2:37 PM UTC