"skyless" poems
A man is only half of what he is; always leaning towards the dim
Lacking a flouted need which whorls in the mute within him
A man bigots an ideal and will lark it away at the hold of his routed pith
A smile is not worthwhile if the smile does not have anything to receive or to give
A man is skyless; bound to his back with his dreams fixed on a rapture
He gorges upon tasteless feasts gasping for that sup he hungers to recapture
He does not know nor recall the times that did once befall
Of the lossless suffers and how they ever meant anything at all
He will become the most that he can ever endeavour
Be the creature he needs to be and whichever
Way it may engross him and how it moulds or claims him
It will be still him but leaning not so far in the dim
He would be a whole man who would give himself wholly
Who would be more and only more to her and her solely
His full heart would be tendered for it would not be his own
If it was still partial of the heart that had since budded and grown
A man would be raised and the sky would be without border
A bliss amid clouds where the undiscerning muddle finds order
There would be a sense to the road an approach to the wander
A reason for all a kiss a need to ponder no longer
There would be such rise in his depth and a contest behind bit teeth
To fight for the purposed kiss to hold her and keep her from grief
To offer her all embrace not too tense and not too slack
For her to breathe is to breathe; now half new he would never give it back
To be back upon his back with eyes busy to the sky
His bones broken as her feet glide indifferently by
Over his stare among cloud where she impelled his descent
He’d lay fallen and broken beaten and bent
If Half a man became whole does a whole man not become naught?
If he fights for a dearest never afore dreamt dream then what is left to be fought?
Was it his minds misgivings that would lead to such a trite giving reliving to doubt?
That surfaced more than he knew; the intended whisper instead a floundering shout?
Would it have been his heart that threw him from his felicity?
Could his relish overwhelm and mutate into potent toxicity?
Could it be fact that without thought nor without tact he impelled her?
Either overthought or over loved he would have fallen the hardest and he would not rise
No he would not rise anymore
If there ever was such a man and ever such a she
He would have her for as long as that may be
Her greatest gift is after saying all this to you
Is that after knowing all that you could you would feel the same way too.
Nov 7, 2012
Nov 7, 2012 at 3:21 PM UTC
sent forth on a path of destruction,
the prince of war is parading
through orange tides of
burning torches—
the funeral rites of
the dead king.
the engine of entropy spits out little
agents of chaos like bees from a hive.
they will sow
in time for the harvest
and when the sun rises to adorn
their naked, furry bodies
with golden dew,
they will shiver
in the remnants
of every dead star
before this one ends again.
a banshee from the ages
arrives as a missile of
determined suffering
set to detonate in close
proximity to the loose reins
of my forgotten destiny.
she wears a crown of roses
and embraces me with
her thorns
in the realm of Nature’s
loveless fawn—
a birthed, forgotten creature
gilded in silver linings
only to melt at
the feet of
God’s love.
I have cried rivers of tears
for people that have left
and all it does is drown
the land in a flood
of never memories
that keep me
isolated in stagnancy.
the wet magic in my
blood is vaporizing from
my fingertips now,
the crackle of split
lightning spins through
my skyless eyes.
abbreviated life spans
chunked into pieces
of lives I never wanted to
live, yet helped form
me.
I see violence in the periphery—
muted and out of
focus.
oil-spitting broken android
smashing through houses
looking for his heart
before powering
down.
“I am clipped,”
she whispers.
*“my wings don't lift me
anymore.
I am a trophy in a
cage.
I am atrophy in a
cage.
singing about the world
beyond these bars.
set me free—
I see the
window!
my flight feathers
will grow back
and I will leave you—
yes,
but I might return
and sing
to you about
that world beyond
the window.
I am not yours
to keep—
set me free!”*
she commanded my heart,
so I did—
I set her free.
and she flew away
into the world
and left me
with a parting gift—
an open window
and a devastating song of silence
that echoes in my ribcage forever.
Aug 24, 2025
Aug 24, 2025 at 9:49 AM UTC
There's a nebulla in the sky
I named to homage our neighbor.
There's a constellation in your eye.
And I never knew I could love without hesitation,
Or temptation from another to ever leave your side.
It's been a beautiful day,
A walk through the skyless skies,
Like a dream of you slowly floating by.
Now I believe,
I'm sure that we can make it,
By and by.
It's been a beautiful day,
And now it's gonna be a wonderful night.
The Suductress is tamed.
The Prince has settled her down.
The Queen has matched
Her gown to the Royal Crown.
The crimes have been pardoned,
So families can re-unite
(Moon and Sky)
It's been a beautiful day,
And now it's gonna be a wonderful night.
It's been a beautiful day,
A walk through the skyless skies,
Like a dream of you slowly floating by.
Now I believe.
I'm sure that we can make it,
By and By.
It's been a beautiful day,
And now it's gonna be a wonderful night.
I'm so glad
That you're going to let me hold you.
(One more time)
In my arms
I'll craddle you as we sigh.
Now I believe.
I'm sure that we can make it, by and by.
It's been a beautiful day,
And now it's gonna be a wonderful night.
Mar 30, 2015
Mar 30, 2015 at 12:46 PM UTC
As you slowly
arrest oceans
apart, land masses
fall under persuasion.
The water stills...
skyless, starless.
What's been claimed
can no longer bear
reflection.
May 5, 2016
May 5, 2016 at 12:42 PM UTC
I'm floating in amnesia
I can't remember
the last time I took a breath.
I'm emptying my eyes
through these tears,
until they're hollow —
so hollow that you wouldn't know
that vacancy could ever feel so full;
so full of emptiness.
This ever growing mayhem
cannot be contained
within my brittle body.
My scars might break open
the next moment.
I'm not very sure if I know
where they came from.
I know I'm afraid —
I'm so afraid of letting them see
the void I carry within.
I can't let them see
that my lungs
are pale sheets of broken muscle,
my heart is a shattered mirror,
scattered and buried
in the seemingly bottomless black
of my broken body.
Sometimes I remember my memories,
the screams and the nightmares and —
you.
I see you through veiled fences,
laughing with crinkled eyes
shining in a new shade of blue;
glowing with another
bittersweet betrayal leaking out
in your unshed tears.
You hold my hand
when I'm about to fall into chasm,
your precarious grip faltering,
your careless eyes vivid
and abyss-deep.
And you remember to let go.
I remember you let go,
and turned away
and I know your strength
because you never looked back.
I know the skyless ocean
is your home because I've bee there,
floating in something
I can't quiet remember anymore.
But you tell me it's amnesia
and I can't remember your name,
I can't remember
to remember something
— someone who can have
the precise blue of your old old
old eyes,
almost as though
they're too young
but I can't remember the difference
between old and young
but you seem so young and so old and —
so beautifully, delicately human.
I can't remember you letting go,
it's as though I'm insane and I am.
I am insane but why do you tell me I'm not?
My delusions are wilder,
they make me see me if you let go.
But please, please don't let go.
I'm not weak and pathetic
and I promise to forget you
(because it's the only thing I'm good at)
but will you never go?
Sep 24, 2016
Sep 24, 2016 at 5:47 PM UTC
When god died in my heart forlorn I wandered
The Other said, "There is no God" the nettles bloomed
I sat upon the high hills in the beauty
Of oranges and greens and reds and blues
The Other took and showed me then the meaning
I saw that gods and death are intertwined
"There is no death" the words were gently whispered,
"There is no other moment now or passing time"
Into the realms of death I burst in fury
To save my child I saw them take away
I followed there in greyness skyless country
Determined full of anger unafraid
We traveled back along the path together
Where tangled roots soil clutched and skies of gray
To walk that green path few have ventured
The others watched us guiding danced and played
I know there is no heaven for I have been there
There is no end in endless energy
No gods or rulers in the place beyond us
Only Others who are wild and free.
Jun 10, 2015
Jun 10, 2015 at 1:59 PM UTC
Keep the river of hope flying
swiftly across all boundaries
and let it devour all
uncertainties.
When the ominous clouds
flying in colors of the dark
and all seeming lost, count on
hope to bring the rainbows
in sheaves harvest of the
glorious stars of the dawn.
Never lose hope till hopes
brings to life the dead
He that throws away the radar
of hope must harvest lost
and darkness in bouquet!
Hope in hope of the Hope
Till resurrection appear in skyless sky
Till restoration appear in dry ocean
Till moon conquer the time eclipse.
May 30, 2019
May 30, 2019 at 10:46 PM UTC
When I left this grey place eons ago
and the sun turned to water under my feet
the sky spit out seven horseshoes
hitting our heads in predictable defiance
and the sand turned to wind
the laughter to salt
when the world opened up
Was it really my fault?
The walls worn under my feet in the snow
who dares think badly back
the greyness left my dry blind eyes
and the haze was replaced with black
the sun sets on a cloudless skyless day
and rises on forgotten lands of warmth
trying to reach down and touch what it lost
too high up now
We’re all too dead.
Jan 31, 2019
Jan 31, 2019 at 9:47 PM UTC
Sacred sepulchre, steeped in sombre silence,
Secret sanctuary, scarcely a sound,
Sisters sleep serenely, secluded and skyless,
Sibilance simmering! Snoring and snoozing,
Sapphic sisters, summoned from slumber…
Sensational ********** Sudden and shuddering!
Shattering silence! Shuttering sanctity!
Squeaking and squealing! Squelching and squeezing!
Seamstresses ********** slotted slits slithering,
Squashing the scripture, smearing and smothering.
Sex-starved ********** Searing and savage!
Shuffling sisters - Seduced and salacious!
Sapphic Salvation - Spit! Salivation!
Submissively spearheading: same-sex spanking,
Summiting sweetly - Spectacular squirting!
Sanctified sisters, sighing suggestively,
Suspecting scripture, surmising sagely,
Sectarian schisms - Shameful and senseless?
Sapphic sermons, signal the Sabbath,
Seraphic sisters, snuggling sweetly,
Sink soothingly into synergy.
Jun 26, 2025
Jun 26, 2025 at 1:51 PM UTC
your flame is dying
let me be your fuel
please love don't cry
these hearts hurting are duel
if you need to hate
i can take the abuse
if you need me to wait
i'm yours to use
no one else can do
what you seem to
please don't hurt yourself
don't be alone
if you need to
be manic
have an episode
scream, punch, and kick me
it's a pleasure
to bare any bruise you'd lay
curse me out, wipe off my smirk
and any life from my face
it's agony going through
sleepless nights
and skyless day
i hope you're okay
Jan 20, 2022
Jan 20, 2022 at 12:36 AM UTC
No iron can pierce the heart with such force as a period put at just the right place.
Babel’s maxim
Freezing inside golden jars,
They’re trying to recover their senses
Within bluish immensities of solitude
Nothing can escape this intensity,
a buzz of nothingness among
deaf animals trying to escape,
to recover their senses
they die, they sleep, they laugh, they weep
but no one can see them,
no one can hear them
Fatigue encircles them in a sunny cage
made up of trillions, and trillions of jars
they cannot die, they cannot sleep, they cannot laugh, they cannot weep
Tell me if you have something to say
when plain breeze revels in your innermost self
plain breeze upon delicious icy rocks,
killing every whisper, every lie
And this windy torment you cannot deny
as the snowy season nests inside
There are musicians dying all around
Complaining about the absence of all sound
I know, they are the worst of all,
Disbowelled, with dry limbs, they climb and fall
Death, golden, frozen, with no music
Exposed a hidden harmony through the immensity
of that transparent garden, covered with snow
Following the image of every prayer,
Useless objects, that used to be human-animals
spell their own despair upon skyless
roofs, an offer that no one would recognize,
a blaze of glory for immortal eyes
But who am I to turn to these dry bones,
a coronation of a sacred simphony
That would be heard, repeted, played for all eternity
If only some lost angel found his name, or found his rose.
Frankfurt, 21.10.2016 (Friday)
Jul 10, 2017
Jul 10, 2017 at 3:30 PM UTC