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"starstuff" poems
the bow of your back, taut sweat sticky opiated and fizzing,the air stirs and does not settle the garden caged between your ribs cracked and sprouting,paint fumes sputtering out of your fingertips,wild unruly kind of- give and take,sway bring me to my knees kind of hurricane the bow of your mouth, sweet spit tacky thunderous and crowing,skin smelling of smoke and apples the starstuff wrapped in your fist aching and bruised,your knuckles purpling and swollen,wild unruly kind of- give and take,sway bring me to my knees kind of hurricane
0
Dec 27, 2015
Dec 27, 2015 at 11:51 PM UTC
naming you
Did you know? I have vines growing around my ribs now. A tree growing in my guts where I used to hold galaxies. Churning stardust catching between teeth, Painting my lips. Seeping out of my skin and into the sink. I am a book of metaphors and paradox. I am nothing at all. I speak you fair with a liars tongue, All made of silver and moondust. Easy words. I am celestial, And though your starstuff still makes me sick in the mornings, Picking your shine from my teeth All your refuse still inside me wretched into the sink. Though my limbs are scarred with an effort to see my own galaxies I am through obsessing over celestial souls. Too many boys and girls with stars in their eyes Or Saturn's rings around their fingers Have caught me with lunar promises and magic fallen from careless lips Like meteor showers. I'm rid of my stars. Now I've been planting flowers in my ribs The vines mingle with a web of forget-me-nots and bleeding hearts Lavender buds sprouting from old scars I pass the 3 am itch off as them growing Learn to ignore it.
0
Feb 19, 2017
Feb 19, 2017 at 11:19 PM UTC
Star Boy Unmade
darling, lift that fingertip away from your scars and trace these ragged map-lines instead here, here are better roads to take than loneliness so maybe your knuckle feels much too bare but know that our fingers are not made to sit waiting for a ring – they are built to hold so hold – find another set of fingers grasping for a stronger pair of hands there is nothing more beautiful than two small limbs making a home in each other or better yet, when your bones feel too big for his too-full arms and too brittle for the weight of your sadness hold yourself together, never let go when the night is too full of night to see the stars, take a mirror and try to search for the starstuff in you you. the point between history and tomorrow the most graceful of reckonings the steady hum of more, more beneath cracking skin you. the sum of all things soft and true   and remember: those bones were never built to shoulder the world they were only ever meant to carry you
0
Feb 14, 2016
Feb 14, 2016 at 1:31 AM UTC
the heavy weight of hands (and other body parts)
There are tongues hidden away inside cabinets, fingers pressed between the floorboards, members ****** into dresser drawers -- You caressed them lovingly, every tooth and freckle turned over in your memory, you play them over as you sleep And every once in awhile, their faces gulp to life beneath your chest, and maybe your heart beat quickly for a moment, and you whispered to yourself: thank god, this day has finally come -- His kindergarten dreams his sugar sweet mouth his cream soft tongue, they succumbed to you like beasts trapped beneath the riverbed You let them float, dry tongues hang out between bloodied lips, you touched their lips in the darkness and the dance continued until morning And later, caught up in the nightmare you stared into the sky. Maybe the full moon reached out and touched you, maybe you smiled But you said, thank god; thank god I am the man I am -- And something made you, starstuff shaped and twisted until they formed those fingers, those hands those eyes the brows that would furrow in the darkness of that closet until it came down over your head and as the memories surged through your mind? I hope they came first, one wailing scream pushing through your heart before you succumbed thank god, thank god
0
Apr 12, 2012
Apr 12, 2012 at 11:59 PM UTC
apartment 213, milwaukee
Underneath moon dust Lies a glimmer of lost hope Igniting space dreams One day we will merge We will be a nebula And a red dwarf too Heat death is so far That for now, I am happy To be a planet
0
Jul 21, 2015
Jul 21, 2015 at 12:48 PM UTC
starstuff
We are of supernova Out of blinding Wicked light Starstuff filtered By dreams of Jehovah Was evolution Evolved us the fight From constructs Of a periodic table To the beast That is modern Mann Monkeys cursed with reason And the need To take all ya can Don't you ever wonder Why you feel the way You feel, Calling down the thunder When one, ***** up behind the wheel All of us feed the darkness Ah, the voices in the head Painting reality in madness Makes us the walking dead. Hy
0
May 26, 2013
May 26, 2013 at 8:36 PM UTC
Beast
'Tis in the darkest hour that ... shines so on one's heart path: Where who, what, when, how, Where, and sometimes why, Yet, never Y2K, are unanswered By the you that is to be, whilst gleaned.   Then, not receding from reality, Evolving lights one's footsteps That followed none, leaving no trace And saving the human race, Which echo on forever, in all ways, always. Even shadows speak of the light.
0
Oct 31, 2019
Oct 31, 2019 at 1:06 AM UTC
Sun, Silly, Starstuff
my bones are yours for holding & we watch the planets collide.  your naked knees bowed against my newborn flesh.  i don’t trust anyone with the moon & where were you when the world collapsed?  the universe broke when i learned to love you, forbidden symmetry found in some terrible tangle of muscles & tissue.  i wore my favorite old t-shirt, cotton stained with blotted cream & coffee, you clung to me, frenetic fingers begging for some semblance of union.  we so blurred lines became invincible in our quaking presence.  we are entwined, a knotted strand of genetic material & starstuff, quoting communist daughters’ poetry & commanding a listen.  listen.  carl sagan is my personal jesus, I tell you, for nothing is romantic like biology.  there are notches in my hips for your resting elbows, your trembling palms, this is where you belong.  young eyes cracked open wide, we are spinning into the depths of some luminous night, human shells shed far behind.  we are divine.  we are celestial.  this is who we are.
0
Jul 9, 2014
Jul 9, 2014 at 12:10 AM UTC
you are fever dream
If I'm made up of starstuff Recycle me Strip me You're wasting me Let me be Nothing Dust Put me in the center of the universe In a vast nothing Of every beautiful little thing That I don't understand And leave me there Let me keep my eyes
0
Jul 26, 2014
Jul 26, 2014 at 5:16 AM UTC
Starstuff
Here! Take this stick They are coming for you This is the fight of your life you versus the lions with naught but a stick in your hands the distant roars a constant reminder of the shadows in your memories you cannot cry out for help with an elephant on your chest you can't even turn away From the trainwreck of your life drugged in a chemical cocktail that your genes made for you forced into your system by little sensitive triggers or really nothing much at all a roller coaster you never wanted on buckled in and you can't get out you can't get out you cant' escape the darkness that closes in on your vision or the racing of your heart hammering and fluttering all at once terrified that this is how you die while also kind of excited knowing that you are dead anyway what is one day sooner? it would be so easy just a little slip and a bit of blood or a quick trigger and a bullet the brainpan goes squish it would be so easy to drop this stick and fall upon it like some old fashiioned tale I wish I could help you to tell you that stick is really a wand and you are capable of magic with a flick of the wrist you can start to change it all that the lions are real but they are very slow with gums instead of teeth that these shadows are only there because you did not add light they will recede and never leave but they also won't have control I wish I could help you but all I can do is remind you that what you hold is not just a stick and that you are not just sick you are not your condition but made of starstuff and determination that you once had dreams too and how much I love the legacy of your heart written in your eyes pain and joy and compassion I wish I could tell you that I too learned to use that magic that my lions became kittens soft and sweet with just a little bite and my shadows became shade that I rest under when the world is too much because it always will get that way you will have good days and bad days and both are ok it's not easy to wave that stick it's not easy to roar back at the dark this is the fight of your life but you, and your life are worth every swing because you are perfect and kind and made of magic.
0
Oct 9, 2017
Oct 9, 2017 at 8:18 AM UTC
Just a Stick
Here! Take this stick They are coming for you This is the fight of your life you versus the lions with naught but a stick in your hands the distant roars a constant reminder of the shadows in your memories you cannot cry out for help with an elephant on your chest you can't even turn away From the trainwreck of your life drugged in a chemical cocktail that your genes made for you forced into your system by little sensitive triggers or really nothing much at all a roller coaster you never wanted on buckled in and you can't get out you can't get out you cant' escape the darkness that closes in on your vision or the racing of your heart hammering and fluttering all at once terrified that this is how you die while also kind of excited knowing that you are dead anyway what is one day sooner? it would be so easy just a little slip and a bit of blood or a quick trigger and a bullet the brainpan goes squish it would be so easy to drop this stick and fall upon it like some old fashiioned tale I wish I could help you to tell you that stick is really a wand and you are capable of magic with a flick of the wrist you can start to change it all that the lions are real but they are very slow with gums instead of teeth that these shadows are only there because you did not add light they will recede and never leave but they also won't have control I wish I could help you but all I can do is remind you that what you hold is not just a stick and that you are not just sick you are not your condition but made of starstuff and determination that you once had dreams too and how much I love the legacy of your heart written in your eyes pain and joy and compassion I wish I could tell you that I too learned to use that magic that my lions became kittens soft and sweet with just a little bite and my shadows became shade that I rest under when the world is too much because it always will get that way you will have good days and bad days and both are ok it's not easy to wave that stick it's not easy to roar back at the dark this is the fight of your life but you, and your life are worth every swing because you are perfect and kind and made of magic.
Continue reading...
76
Mumble through a labyrinth world-- A cacophonous lyre's stringing. Sheep in wolf's clothes-- Are half as dangerous--as My sorry symphony. In the tiger-fur rarity of your singing, ember-sky eyes Ghost stars crumble their memories over morning. The trickster god pays respects when we smile our mutual challenges-- Crosses her rays from one side of earth to the next, Looking for a collision.
0
Jul 16, 2014
Jul 16, 2014 at 1:32 PM UTC
Starstuff Love
your fingertips are coated with stardust from the other day when you dipped into the midnight skyscape as though it were paint and I could smell it on you, the faerie-light, confectionary sugar scent of hazy dreams the color of moon-bathed water i clasped your hands gingerly because everyone knows that starstuff is sticky and steadfast and you told me that the oceans don’t follow the moon for the fun of it i don’t remember much of what came after because you had aligned your fingers so precisely against mine that I could feel the remnants of a thousand dying universes caught in the creases of my thumbs i soon learned that handsoap only applies to the earthly, just like water doesn’t even touch stains on the soul
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Aug 31, 2015
Aug 31, 2015 at 8:21 PM UTC
you're no astronomer, and neither am i
I started reading the letter It read: I always loved the magics, miracles of the universe. But I never found a small piece of love from the universe for me. So there's no point being a part of the universe. I quit. I love you ... I wished I could have made you realize that the universe loved you more than I did. After all, I would have been a fool not noticing the way the sunshine played with your hair the way the raindrops slipped slowly from your lips the way the wind flew only to feel your body the way the stars twinkled praising your beauty the way the rainbow silently dissolved the colour of your eyes with himselfs' the way the lightning appeared to frighten u and feel your breaths the way different beautiful, gorgeous, wonderful, lovely stars in the universe gave up their life to contribute their 'starstuff ' to prepare a gorgeous living thing But you never realized the thing because You were an astrophile I was a philosopher..
0
Aug 23, 2018
Aug 23, 2018 at 7:52 PM UTC
Philosopher's love
oh my dear, are we not made of starstuff are we not glittering like the night sky smiling like nebulas and laughing like galaxies we'll swing together in tandem dancers to an antimatter beat gas giants and red dwarfs watch on but we only have eyes for each other and all the constellations know, dear are we not the Alpha Centauri of the Earth
0
Aug 18, 2019
Aug 18, 2019 at 4:40 AM UTC
Alpha Centauri
you are made of many girls, all longing to be lighter, softer, sweeter, less hurt, less intense, not a burden to bear. your kiss scalds with the promise of forevers. you swore your allegiance to boys who were unsure of you, left them dizzied & breathless, yearning for the empty space you once filled, the missing lodestone, left them lost. you struggled ceaselessly through the fire, rubbed salt in your own wounds. i can still trace the story of your suffering in scar tissue sewn across wrists. but you need never apologize. the wildfires burning in your wake may have scorched & singed your skin, but you are not yet scattered ashes. do not say ‘I’m sorry’ for survival. your brain is a battleground, marred with years of misuse, but you need never apologize for what you are. when they ask about your flaws, tell them what it took to get from then to now. tell them you are lionhearted. remember, you are a cosmic body. your bones are made of starstuff & when you breathe in, welcome the universe filling your lungs.
0
Mar 13, 2014
Mar 13, 2014 at 11:51 AM UTC
oh, sister
even in the shadows of your love i can still see the stars that fall from your eyes, i hear your heartbeat and i know that although i am lost you are here in the darkness with me and so the dark doesn't feel so bad.
0
Jul 15, 2020
Jul 15, 2020 at 3:27 PM UTC
starstuff
do Orion and the Pleiades ever gaze at you and me? for we are what they hope to be, begot by stars, a conscious sea, and even pain means we feel things
0
Aug 31, 2024
Aug 31, 2024 at 8:14 PM UTC
starstuff
'Tis in the darkest hour that One foot follows the other, ... shines so on one's heart path, Where, who, what, when, how, Where, and sometimes why, Yet, never Y2K, are unanswered By the you that is to be, whilst gleaned. Then, not receding from reality, One step leads to another, Evolving lights one's footsteps That followed none, leaving no trace And saving the human race, Which echo on forever, in all ways, always. Even shadows speak of the light.
0
Nov 8, 2019
Nov 8, 2019 at 6:22 AM UTC
Sun, Silly Starstuff, Soulshine
Pages rippling, Quickly pushing through the years My mind is a casino shuffling machine Rapid fire, every card is Every face bleeding through Anchored memories, subsurface stillness Reality is the crooked blade-- I now realize I was always looking for Everything that wasn't them Different hair, different eyes Why are they all blurring together Old slides on a movie screen Staring back at me. Vindictive, hostile, blaming. I was scrambling for the ideal of novel, New and transposed. Enough to break me down into molecules, Toss me into atoms Throw my essence against the starstuff and dark spaces between-- But there is no ripple effect. No unseen unclothing me. The faces keep bleeding through I keep wading, riffling, sifting through the sands of time It falls; Between and all around me.
0
Sep 24, 2019
Sep 24, 2019 at 11:22 PM UTC
To whom it may concern
Our souls are fierce flames That can’t be vanquished by death They burn on and on Even time's harsh hand Can't efface the work of love Which lasts forever We are remembered Inspiring smiles and tears And actions that speak Life keeps going on Better for having had us We walk on, beyond Then we re-emerge Our particles become parts Of flowers and trees Becoming starstuff Arriving at infinite Space once again we Resume what we were Bright celestial matter Inspiring with light
0
Nov 23, 2016
Nov 23, 2016 at 11:59 PM UTC
Eternity's Eulogy