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Chris Thomas Jun 2017
Starfield, as scattered as this mind
And sirens,
As shrill as darkness redesigned
Forgive me, please, forgiveness
For I have granted you to the undeserving

Starfield, as bright as your eyes
And sirens,
As dead as this compromise
Forgive me, please, forgiveness
For I have left you weary from overuse

Starfield, as lost as misery
And sirens,
As distant as you are to me
So forgive me, please, forgiveness
For I have finally led you here to die
Carlo C Gomez Mar 21
~
Absorption lines

Lagrange points

interstellar fingerprints

she played with time, variable starfield's constitution

the reply from space
as light through the canopy
heard in upward glissandos:

"Tonight I'm only made of moonlight..."

~
Anais Vionet Mar 15
“22½ euros for a Martini,” Peter remarked, when he first scanned the menu.
“It’s not like we aren’t going to get them,” I said, “we’re not going to cheap our way to abstinence." The waiter came and I gave him my card, “Put that table on this card too, please,” (pointing to Charles’s table).

It’s a cool night in Paris and doof-doof music’s slammin’ from a stack of Mackie DJs. It’s about 53°f, but they have those umbrella heaters at every table and other heaters that blew warmer air on the dance floor (maybe not a great idea). Peter and I have a table on the terrace, out under a muted, light polluted starfield.

We danced, we debated the issues of the day, like, when will Taylor dump Kelcie and what were the best Oscar movies? (We chose ‘Poor Things’ and ‘Past Lives’). We ate Steak au Poivre with Red Wine Sauce and then we danced some more. We were having fun.

But when a party turns into ***** mayhem it’s time to leave - or is it? Watching the shadowy edges of things, I asked Peter, “It’s getting CrAzY, wanna go?”
“It’s just getting interesting,” he answered.
I squinted at him, was he serious? I couldn’t tell - martinis scramble my amygdala.
I decided to flow with it. “Ok, freak, get me another then.” I said, calling his bluff, and sliding my glass his way.
As he left for the bar, I glanced at my watch, 2am. It felt like 10 pm to us American east-coasters.

I looked around and Charles and Chinthia (Mrs.Charles) were laughing and chatting away.
‘You GO, old people,’ I thought - not unkindly.
Peter came back, two martinis in one hand, snapping pics with the other.
“Stop!” I barked, holding my hands up like I was fighting off paparazzi, “stop!”
I’ve learned things, like how, in early pics, when we arrive at a party, I look like Mary Poppins - but in end-of-party pix l look like Norma Desmond. Peter doesn’t see it  - but I do.

I sipped at my new drink - It tasted sour and bitter as sin - I made a face. Peter cackled like a villain in a low budget flick. “It’s a Winston Churchill,” he reported knowingly, “they were out of vermouth.”

When the bar runs out of vermouth, it means something. I pressed the walkie-talkie app on my watch and asked Charles, “You guys ready to go?” He didn’t look around but gave me a thumbs-up just before they rose.

My mom and (step)dad have joined us, at Grandmère’s, for this vacation. I was gleeful, at first, but it’s like my mom hasn’t noticed I’m not in high school anymore - that I grew-up in their three-year absence. I get pressed when she thinks I’m slouching, rearranged when my hair’s out of place and shown a pained, icy face if I order a martini.

She’s piercing the membrane of my privacy and expecting obeisance! I tried to explain it, like an adult. “There are multiple value systems,” I gently reminded her. My Grandmère even suggested Peter move into his own room. Luckily, Peter and my rooms adjoin and she put my parents on another floor (in the suite she grew up in).

I’m secretly afraid they’ll be up when we get in, that it’s 10pm for them too and I’ll get ‘the face.’ I told Charles about my situation and he said, “Look, she’s missed you, she’s just lavishing you with attention, she’ll relax,” but his oceanic optimism seems.. hopeful. We’ll see ??
BLT Marriam Webster word of the day challenge: Obeisance: an acknowledgement of another’s superiority.

doof-doof = a type of ‘HardTrance’ music
Mackie DJs = a favorite brand of speakers used by party DJs

our cast
My Grandmère = grandmother (in French)

Peter, my bf, a physicist who works at CERN, in Geneva. His job’s to break things and see what happens. We’ve been ‘together’ for about 2 years - I use ‘together’ loosely because, well, Geneva and New Haven.

Step (Stepfather) is an invasive cardiologist, he and my mom have been married for eleven years. He’s my dad v2.0

My mom is an anesthesiologist - they tend to be perfectionists. She has three children - one is a surgeon (my sister Annick), one is in med-school (my brother Brice) and then there’s me - the weak link - she’s heavily ‘invested’ in my absolute everything.

Charles and Chinthia - Charles, a retired NYC cop, is my long time escort, driver and surrogate parent. Cynthia, his wife of six years, (also an ex-cop) is a VP for a cyber-security company.

Norma Desmond = faded star in “Sunset Boulevard' (a must see movie)
Gaurav Gurung Aug 16
He asks me, what is humanity? I tell him;
We are as vast as a field of meadow,
Like the countless flowers that bloom,
Each of us, a different variety of flower,
Some, like the roses- Beauty with thorns,
Some, like the sunflowers- Guided by direction,
Some, like the tulips- Beauty with diversity,
Some, like the daisies- Innocent and jolly,
Some, like the lotuses- Adapting in harsh floras.

He asks me again, what is humanity? I tell him;
We are as spread as the distant Star field,
Like the countless stars that radiate,
Each of us shine and emit our own power,
Some shine brighter, their beauty we adorn,
Some are black, some white, all beautiful- God’s creation,
Some morph into comets! Such complexity,
Some are never discovered in the vast void- Not Golly!
Some radiate excellence, Differing are their auras.

He’s awestruck! Taken back by the beauty of humanity,
“However, there’s a catch”, I say
Humanity is as dead as a graveyard,
Such a hurtful place it is, containing a silence that kills silence,
A place so sinister, it breeds violence,
Arena of corruption, A colosseum of hatred,
Humanity is such a place which destroys the sacred,
“Who kills their mother?” Simply – Humanity,
You wouldn’t want to go there! It’s a ticket to insanity,
Humanity is as dead as graveyard! They **** their own kind,
Believe me boy, It’s not for your gullible mind!
A fictional poetic discussion between a father and his son... A brief philosophical insight into the poet's views about humanity! Enjoy folks
SoZaka Mar 2018
I barely hope to convey this feeling
perhaps it is
floating through a starfield free wheeling
or
a dwarf who hit his head on the ceiling
for
every memory i've saved for safe keeping
a flower blossom remained sleeping
leaving nothing left of yesterday's forest save willows weeping and wailing
waiting for the hourglass to slow

though as far as I remember
on the last day of December
everything was for the better
in an infinite number of ways
by living a life
full of New Years days
Tyler Aug 2022
time is an eternal gambit
in a twinkling icy starfield of
peace, love, and prosperity.
Stephen S Mar 2018
The Cosmos are quiet tonight.

Bright, vibrant, filled with marvelous wonders...but quiet.

Drifting through the starfield, I've got Saturn in my rear view.
The opaque beauty of Neptune awaits in the unending distance.

So cold it's striking, but I'll have to get over it.

The sun can't help me today.

So turbulent in the asteroid belt, I did not escape unscathed.
My hull may be damaged but my engines are intact.

The interstellar journey continues.

Below me I see the barren expanse of Pluto.

The tiniest of threads on the galactic blanket.

Then she fades into the darkness.

Earth is but an echo, Mars is but a shadow.

Out of the Solar system I fly.

Where to? Who knows

— The End —