"stargazers" poems
I hear your name everywhere
Your whispers in the buzzing of the bees
Your exasperated sighs in the beeping of the cars
Your ecstatic storytelling in the humdrum of random noises
I see you in every hue
Your calm demeanor in shades of blue
Your road rage in shades of red
Your cheeky laugh in shades of yellow
I taste you in every way
Your kiss in this smooth black chocolate
The warmth of your hand in this bowl of soup
Your icy stare in gulping this cold water
I smell you in every scent
Your warm hug in this cup of coffee
Your compassion in this bouquet of Stargazers
Your glistening eyes in this cigarette
Doctors, please help me
I have the rarest case of synesthesia
When it comes to you,
My brain malfunctions
My senses, once numb, feel everything
All at once
In the most passionate and
In the most heightened sense
To feel you in everything.
To experience you in every way.
My eyes only see you
My nose only smells you
My tongue only craves you
My ears only hear you
My brain only perceives you
My synesthesia
Is only in the form of you.
Jul 22, 2018
Jul 22, 2018 at 9:38 AM UTC
~ ⚘ ⚪ ⚘ ~
After days of long studies comes the
days of rest. My violet dreams were
slumber-soft filled with lucent lilies
of curling flames born of ever colour
known and unknown. And I stood
in awe of them as my fears fall back
and cower in the shades of my mind.
~ ⚘ ⚪ ⚘ ~
I muse at how quickly my body
relaxed. Due to my marjoram'd
pillows and sheets of pure silk
and eiderdown? Or due to the
sips of the lavender tea in my in
my teacup decorated with a
butterfly motif?
~ ⚘ ⚪ ⚘ ~
I remember the sips in fours as
I blew the steam from my cup;
The first sip balmed my lips.
The second soothed my throat.
The third lulled my thoughts.
The fourth stilled my soul.
~ ⚘ ⚪ ⚘ ~
Though the tea, the pillow and
sheets were had a hand in my nightly
rest, the real answer is on my brow -
for it was when the night's cool air
blew, and where you placed your
sweet Morphean kiss.
~ ⚘ ⚪ ⚘ ~
With a smile, I wake.
Sat on my golden summer throne
located in my marble gazebo; a
jewel in my private garden. With
thin caryatid pillars, draped in
fine doric chitons encircling me.
Their sculpted limbs hold up the
frieze carved with acanthus
that has a stained glass top of
peacocks and stargazers.
~ ⚘ ⚪ ⚘ ~
The sheer curtains billow when
the eastern winds blow. By me, a
gold side table with a mirrored top
supported by three Greek key legs.
A pewter quill pen with a steel nib
and violet feather rests by its clay
inkpot; both beside a silver sinuous
nouveau vase and a small stack of
poetry books of black leather and
gilt.
~ ⚘ ⚪ ⚘ ~
Aug 4, 2018
Aug 4, 2018 at 7:48 AM UTC
Today not all of our mistakes are failures
Today I'm closing the door on
the things we keep behind our teeth,
the ways we never learned how to be
soft, but always tried
our best anyway
this is a tribute to the lost sleep
the nights I keep marked in tallies on
my arms, the letters I keep locked up
in a dark drawer,
where maybe something besides moths and regret
will eat away at them.
Today, not all of our thoughts are broken
today you take me out of my skin and I learn how to dance;
the rhythm is choppy but I follow
it anyway, after all we are only testing the waters here
we are only stargazers
awaiting some grand cosmic miracle, we are waiting with our
hands in our pockets for something big to happen,
we are falling in and out of obsession
chasing strangers
around and around in circles,
throwing our
fists in the air claiming "not everything is lost",
slowly coming to the realization that
it's also true not everything is found.
Today you don't know what you're looking for but you can't stop
searching the horizon, like maybe if you peer long enough,
your brain will slow down enough to process
the harsh thump-thump, thump-thump that tells you you're still alive
that tells you you're still here
that tells you you're still waiting
And my fingernails are digging into my palms now from the suspense
of writing and re-writing my name onto fresh pages,
crumpling and collecting them
in the bottom of waste baskets along with
half smoked cigarettes and
last night's rain, because
it is rare that two paths will cross in this world with anything more
than a brief flash of recognition,
it is rare that anything
better can be captured before it slips
down through the cracks;
but that thought was me eons ago
that was me in someone else's skin
today I'm putting nets out to catch the things
we throw around & never keep,
I'm writing your story into my
daily script & keeping a list
of "to-dos" before the big event;
tonight I'm alone and I'm
too busy to look out the window,
maybe the stars will flicker or maybe
they won't, but regardless
I'm still counting my heartbeats to know that I'm here
(still counting my heartbeats to know
the time I have left),
I'm still patching
this wound up with fragments of could have been,
reminding myself that not all
of our hearts are broken, and not all
of our moments are failures.
Aug 4, 2018
Aug 4, 2018 at 1:32 AM UTC
*A spirited moon
'neath furtive glances,
anguished of despair
looked upon hushed
entangled constellations
and heeded a warning,
for he knew well of lavishing
recherché intricacies,
mattered naught how exquisite
nothing lasting could come
of liaisons's effusive grandeur,
'tween clandestine stargazers*
Jul 30, 2015
Jul 30, 2015 at 10:20 AM UTC
She and I lay out
under the stars once
To find shooting stars
and privacy.
She told me she loved me,
and held me close,
And I believed her.
But in the darkness
I couldn't see her eyes.
Jun 7, 2014
Jun 7, 2014 at 4:32 AM UTC
You and I,
buried beneath the coruscated winter sky
In taciturn stillness,
half-enraptured by the unmasked glory,
and half by the unasked in the others eyes.
There is no time to hold us;
There is no other moment.
Volatile, visible breaths,
The almost- touch of our fingertips,
and the quiet intimacy of our insignificance against the endless, open sky.
You,
My darling,
and I.
Oct 21, 2017
Oct 21, 2017 at 12:10 AM UTC
A lost in time, forgotten track
colorless, washed out, hollowed rather
meaningless if you were to describe it
used to write all the time, used to dream
in the bus, in bed as well, it has all
said its bitter farewell, oh dearie!
oh my beloved!, spare me of this cruel
misery filled path, I now cross
some sort of emotionless symphony
worthless effort, faded paint
insignificant piece of poetry
a fallen ode to legacies, significance
and memories, all fantasies
dreams, hopes and tales of stargazers
daydreamers and hopeless romantics
have been lead astray, by this
oh this filthy tray of decandence
forsaking a mournful heart
an adulterated soul...
Jun 13, 2015
Jun 13, 2015 at 8:09 PM UTC
I call her Chanel -
because she covers up the stench of her rotting morality
with that iconic perfume of beauty,
Her internal ethnicity is of wrinkles, and rough skin,
and canines hard like diamonds -
ones that tear up the futures of her stargazers
with ****** nips and snippets behind their backs,
Like truths written on paper that she hates to read -
she tears them up into shreds so miniscule
they could never be stitched back together,
Then she smiles as she strides past
with that aroma wafting from her
in agonizing waves like an ocean of failure
pelting her hypnotized admirers from miles away,
Though she’s miamed their images with rumours
and amputated their hopes with lies
she is to them this kind of idol
set up on a pedestal of severed limbs painted gold,
They see a saviour while I see a snake
cloaked in an aura of No 1
Sep 18, 2014
Sep 18, 2014 at 6:49 PM UTC
Here we are,
Lying under the stars.
The nighttime is very pretty.
It always makes me feel witty.
Let's come back again!
I'm sure it's not a sin.
I just wanna gaze at the sky...
It puts me in a daze every time.
Travelers will sleep,
Willows will weep.
And here we'll stay here,
Always and forever, here.
May 23, 2014
May 23, 2014 at 1:02 PM UTC
Thaw out frozen thoughts
shoulders hunched against the sleet
stride crunching on the downbeats
familiar haunts are blurring
Hurried northward daydreams don't
trickle south through Douglas Firs
But remember how our paths crossed?
Stargazers both--I balked first
4 blocks down, I'm held accountable
for crusade hypocrisies
I keep tucked in my back pockets
and rolled up in uprolled sleeves
The sun returns, or so I'm told
but it's been evening for awhile.
And, if they're wrong, where are we then?
Left knowing we're left under miles
of mounting snow?
Left knowing we've got to stop--
but not one clue how to cope
Wondering where hours, weeks and years went
counting calendars we've peeled off walls
Counting marks on records
marks on faces
Counting calendars
Tally scars--stubborn reminders
of how we got where we are.
Ground my skyward thoughts
in the grid of frozen streets
I'll sink deep in the hoarfrost
coats the ground, turns steps to beats
I'll keep time, now, walking westward
hands in pockets, eyes on feet.
I'll remember how your breath looked
off of Brooks Street walking east.
Dec 31, 2012
Dec 31, 2012 at 9:07 PM UTC
breathe your worries over my finger tips,
i'll write them down for you
scribbled in the shorthand of daydream believers
we never needed a dictionary to comprehend the word hope
in the dusk of summer,
i store my doubts on the soles of my shoes
to see if i can wear them down to childlike acceptance.
Sep 11, 2012
Sep 11, 2012 at 12:50 AM UTC
Stars and scars write our fate in script so deep a telescope barely make it legible.
Scars unlike stars burn hotly in memory.
Stars cold and distant are dying slowly.
Slowly dying is the scar tissue,
slowly growing is the memory.
Stargazers look Scargazers look away.
May 17, 2015
May 17, 2015 at 3:40 PM UTC
Snow Glitters In The Early Morning Light,
The Frosty Tears Of Angels,
Change The Land--And With It--The Creatures,
Stargazers Stare Blankly At The Sky For Answers,
The Cloaks Of Shadows Dip Into The Trees,
Holiday Trees Loom In Windows,
Promising Happiness,
But Screaming Voices Pierce Transparent Glass,
Frightening The Creatures In The Forest,
Snowflakes Lethargically Fall,
They Stare At Themselves Floating To Earth,
In Golden Irised Eyes,
Enchantment Holds A Heart In Soft Palms,
A Soul Kissed By Smooth And Pure Lips,
A Vacant Feeling Being Filled,
A World In A Sub-Conscious Mind,
More Rewarding Then Conscious Activity,
A World Of Dreams,
A World Of Good,
A World Of Truth,
Don't Make Me Leave,
This World Of Enchantment
Nov 12, 2012
Nov 12, 2012 at 8:29 AM UTC
Isn't it funny how I need you,
But you don't need me?
Without you, I cannot glow.
Without you, my colors will not show.
Why are you so selfish?
Why is it that
When you go down
You take me below with you?
When you don't shine, you dim the stage
So no one shines but you.
But why not let the stargazers
See some other colors too?
Jul 18, 2014
Jul 18, 2014 at 12:06 AM UTC
I left the seat
in the front row
of the place
with too many lights
for it to have been
that dim
dripping in music from head to toe,
from hip to soul,
listening to my ears and their lobes
ramble on incantations of unknown songs,
enchanting nuances strung throughout their chatter
like puddles strewn across concrete,
like grey matter,
like static
but much more in tune with nature
and far less understandable,
weaving my thoughts through new-found looms
stitching patterns of fumes,
gasses,
smoke and the solemn ashes
of melodies burned alive
under a nearly full moon,
under skies that humm
with the clanging arrival
of moments to be counted,
marked,
measured,
treasured for their value
though it elude all reason
because seasons do not lie
except for early spring evenings
when the lights are fading
and the music you heard playing
is quick to
leave your tongue.
It was all said and done.
One more highway home
among the trees and stargazers,
convincing my eyes
of what my ears have undone.
Apr 6, 2012
Apr 6, 2012 at 12:18 AM UTC
This lesson learned the hard way is daunting
I live my life solitary lonely and wanting
But this is what happens for trying to trap a star
Let down - their light radiates endlessly far
The balance of things would be too upset
And the other stargazers aren’t going to forget
The pressure would quickly become unstable
It’s like searching for the truth in a fable
You may think you know who a person is
But blinding is the star that you burden like this
It’s bound to become an illusion of what you wish it could be
Hopes deceive - do good and throw it in the sea
Do not drink poison to quench a thirst
In lessons the sad man must become well versed
Dec 16, 2013
Dec 16, 2013 at 6:17 PM UTC
"You are having a bad day." he said,
looking up from my work i noticed
milky, blue eyes seeping- they were shimmering in the shadows,
of his fluffy spider-legged brows,
and secondary to his stupendous
potato nose. lilies. beep.
my heart may have skipped a beat, wondering if
another patron had taken offense
to a dispassionate expression that wore me more than i, it.
he fumbled with a money clip, already withdrawn. large, arthritic, veiny hands. looked down grappling--with ***** bills, smelling of ******* g-strings and *** sweat. was my mouth open, was i staring? baby pinks and stark white, peppered with
gentle,
fuchsia
explosions.
he tossed down a ten and reached in pockets that seemed too low, contorting into a teapot. short and stout. i heard coins mingling together. a discussion among themselves. hushed metallic whispers, pontificate on
the merits of
coin purse over
pocket travel.
here, reemerged a fist, clenched weakly and shaking, he dropped exact change on the ten,
they hesitated in vibration against the laminate counter, and spun on edge in circles.
"some" he said- my stare averting.
..."some" he repeated, only when i'd managed to meet his eyes with again,through an imagined haze of misunderstanding... sweet scent, shivering orange pistils, raining microscopic yellow dust. stargazers. i shifted the change from the counter to my hand.
"are worse
than others."
i delivered him his change in bills, the familiar clink of coins in my drawer somehow deafening. and i couldn't break my curious stare, he turned sharply, flowers wrapped in pink tinted cellophane, which crinkled in a whimper from his grasp.
he limped away, mud on his heels.
back to the cemetery.
Aug 21, 2011
Aug 21, 2011 at 12:51 PM UTC
passes
in a flash of famous last words.
An extravagant way of
going out in style
that is only witnessed
by those stargazers,
spread out amongst
layers of blankets,
that are lucky enough
to be watching
without
blinking.
Jan 7, 2013
Jan 7, 2013 at 2:50 AM UTC
Lilies mean I dare you to love me,
Yet no one ever dared before.
She wore unworthiness like armour,
Too afraid to ask for more.
But then their souls collided softly,
A feeling whispered, old yet new.
As if their atoms once had danced,
As if her heart already knew.
Stargazers were her favourite flowers,
Pink petals stretching toward the sky.
She never thought she’d be deserving,
Yet he brought them—without a why.
He told her love was hard to give,
That words don’t spill from heart to tongue.
But every act, each quiet moment,
Spoke of love he left unsung.
The day he gave her stargazers,
She learned that she could bloom as well.
That love was not a war to fight,
But something safe where she could dwell.
Still, they have never said the words,
Three small ones locked behind their lips.
But love is felt in all the ways
That words may falter, break, or slip.
And if they never pass through her,
Then may they come from him instead.
For she could never bear to hear
“I love you” from another’s breath.
Mar 15, 2025
Mar 15, 2025 at 12:47 PM UTC
I came to die for you
But your heart is already taken
Your misleading eyes sung broken harmonies
Your words filled my swamps of wonder
Come join me
Come to my endless opera in sky
Come, ooze my prestige
Come, defy my sinister pride
Out here in the desert, we’re lost
Tempests to us will accost
The dunes mocked us restlessly
The clouds gave birth to sober music
Deflecting the frayed light
Spill the sand to make some sense
Said father time
The reels of life are running fast
The frenzied sun bowed silently
A dark procession of heavy sullen thoughts
Drums are running cold
The fire in my heart you’ll enfold
A trinity of love that cannot be unseen
And I’m stuck in between
An ephemeral grace
Numbed insanity
Love take away my love
I’d love to love you, love
But you’re out of sight
Loneliness was the sign
I’ll be sailing with stargazers forevermore
Nov 29, 2012
Nov 29, 2012 at 5:33 PM UTC
The serene sea possessed the moon's gleam
The galaxies of stars make shine the images of the buildings
The whole night we were stargazing
And the morning dew in the grass as cold as the air enveloping our bodies
At this moment, your lips are the skies
And we found the most beautiful constellation of the night.
Aug 24, 2016
Aug 24, 2016 at 10:26 PM UTC
One frightened part of me says
*calm down, all will be well
you'll get out of this tremendous mess
everything is okay in God's will
I promise you won't even feel
your skin that once did swell.*
Like stargazers on a lucid night
Like the ever-patient stars so bright
I want all my days to be quiet
All my nights to be perfect
And then another thought comes
*I want to ride the tides
Embrace it with all my might
Travel the world with reckless ones
Smoke out the heavy problems
Drink not moderately, but constantly
Love unattached and infinitely.*
Like storm chasers so brave
Like I don't need to be saved
I want all my days to be strong
All my nights to be long.
Nov 25, 2014
Nov 25, 2014 at 1:19 AM UTC
on lonely winter nights
i find myself in the windowsill
gazing at coruscating stars and forgotten wishes
i grin at the moon
he smiles back
i close my eyes and conjure an image of the man on the moon
does he exist beyond childhood fairytale?
an impish smirk plays on his boyish face
as he reaches for me
he is the nocturnal prince, an imperial Peter Pan
stealing the prudence of stargazers
in the very hours of creativity
he is a collector of romances
seizing the hearts of sleeping beauties
as they fabricate stories of epic proportions
soon erased in waking moments
he is the fantasy of every idealist
the one who enchants her dreams
and inspires her ingenuity
Jan 7, 2016
Jan 7, 2016 at 6:11 PM UTC