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"stratosphere" poems
Speaking of broken hearts and mended fenced in mem'ries   I am painting skies of tangerine, saffron & an illuminated lilac hue against the starkly contrasted crisp cornflower blue, stretching canvas that is along with all the other blindingly beautiful colors of a twilight sky And those dripping cotton candy stratospheric clouds Ice crystals freezing into supercooled water droplets Streaking the sky in cirrus whispers ..I hear them whisper, "hello"... Blinding beauty through unadulterated sunlight I am fleeced like a lamb watching in awe, ..in wonder then stomping sounds of coming thunder, Finding depth and height out  in the stratosphere Blinded by the After Light or afterglow affected by the amount of haze I'm in a daze ...as I am reaching High above the fading light of a brilliant early fall sunset I take a big breath of that sumptuous air and twirl my skirted legs my painted toes where I know I am back to solid ground Appreciating the last time I say sleep well to you  my dear summertimes sweet mem'ries and the fun we had this year. Cherie Nolan © 2016
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Sep 1, 2016
Sep 1, 2016 at 2:39 PM UTC
"After Light"
--- this is a day of high clouds my mind roams up to where they are in the upper stratosphere cold christaline skies a bowl over the marbled earth the sky cracked open revealing the ionosphere black as a stone egg where stars waited to be birthed soulsurvivor (c) 5/12/2015
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May 13, 2015
May 13, 2015 at 3:17 PM UTC
high clouds
Your not just beautiful. I see you every time I look up. The star that shines it's brightest. Filling my life. The moon lit like a dream. And forever I stare. Listening to the silence. Awaken by a soft light I know it's you. I can feel your touch hovering about. Counting the steps until our arms leave our side. The possibility of traveling from one sphere to the next. Our eyes but dots in wait. The question of rockets and big bangs. The essence of time interlocked between our fingers. With no room left to breathe, our rocket becomes continuous. With you, a compilation of light. Is there any question to why my arms stretch as far as they do. I gravitate to you, the most beautiful chaos I've ever seen. To be the space you fill in infinite devotion. Your not just beautiful, your astonishingly out of this world. Our arms no longer by our side. the rocket pierces the stratosphere. We explode internally
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May 8, 2018
May 8, 2018 at 1:19 AM UTC
By Our Side
we heard them talking about a meteor shower expected later that night highly anticipated set to accompany the rust red supermoon that we caught following us home lay down upon blankets a meagre effort to provide at least a little comfort while we witnessed this astral magnificence the significanceof which none of us was certain childishly imagining a spectacle from the dazzling of shooting stars trailing tails like fireworks pointing in wonder appearing briefly before burning out instead we found ourselves staring up at one of those countless spots of white slowly unenthusiastically drifting across the stratosphere it could be a meteor maybe just an aeroplane or simply a twinkling trick of the light yet still we watched without excitement without direction without relevance
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Aug 24, 2022
Aug 24, 2022 at 10:17 AM UTC
meteor shower
*My little helium filled heart floats off into the clouds, free from the weight of itself. It makes miniatures of buildings losing sight of material things. From its' skewed perspective, high in the stratosphere, It has grown bigger than the earth itself. There is poetic sadness in finally reaching happy; a lust for inspiration in the openness of the universe it creates.*
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Apr 3, 2015
Apr 3, 2015 at 6:25 AM UTC
-Helium-
I remember the little men in big boots. The ones who sat at the edge of roof tops in a city called Loneliness, and cut their teeth while chewing jagged glass and angry truths. They parachuted down to earth and hit their heads on desperation. Hollowed out hearts with tree trunks serving as legs, they marched across the stratosphere until their existences neared zero. Nothing more to disappearing than popping some pills, falling asleep, and dreaming that the whole world had gone mad. The interesting part is when you wake up and you can still hear the echo of unfilled boots.
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Apr 12, 2014
Apr 12, 2014 at 12:59 AM UTC
xanax
sometimes there are rocks in my hands and only tight clenched fists can keep them from smashing the mirror world below into delicate shards of broken promises. i long to float among the clouds - one with the stratosphere - but the rocks weigh me down so that i cannot touch them. reaching but never reached. people in glass houses aren't supposed to throw stones. so i am sure to keep locked my loaded palms hiding in plain sight. only your lips with homemade ice-cream touches can coerce my stagnant fingers to melt back into warm flesh. skin bones knuckles joints. i release the stones over a waterfall cliff - rushing rolling rambling - and they ripple in the water and sink to the soil of the riverbed making a home for fragile fish in search of shelter.
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May 10, 2014
May 10, 2014 at 12:07 PM UTC
A Weight
The Ashes of a million souls drift down to the Baranco Wall and Moorland. Seventeen thousand feet is All Deep and dead is the cap on Kilimanjaro. If a tree falls in the Forrest. you will hear it on Kilimanjaro. Haunting stones on Easter Island whisper in the dead of night and speak to Kilimanjaro. Pitcairn Island far and lost. Fletcher Christians mournful ghost wails and screams as the Bounty burned a light seen from The Kilimanjaro. Supai City Arizona in the bowels of the gaping gorge looks out to Kilimanjaro. Oymyakon Siberia. Minus 93 degrees. chatter and freeze akin to The Kilimanjaro World ends in the stratosphere Fight for breath face you fears. Where minutes pass like plodding years in grasp of Kilimanjaro.
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Aug 6, 2013
Aug 6, 2013 at 3:01 AM UTC
Snowfall On Kilimanjaro
*Tell yourself to breathe as the stratosphere is falling, imagining verses tumbling midst downpours' dissension, sans sentimentality's          loquacious language, and the land is left barren     as verbosity disintegrates and emotions wholly perish     'neath fickle cloudbursts                of poetry's extinction*
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Jul 10, 2015
Jul 10, 2015 at 7:12 AM UTC
Fickle Cloudbursts
I can hear the Band of Gypsys   When I find her sitar eyes But I can guess what she sees With her moist mouth jarring wide ******* clouds from the sky Hoodoo Voodoo Medicine Girl In a thunderstorm of dirt stained pearls Tranquillity is everything As we all float down to hear her sing And she knows full well That she can pollinate anything Simply without the need to sting The half mast will be put in place   As your heart's pump gathers in pace If you're anticipating to catch her near Don't act surprised if you're left to persevere When you finally catch a glimpse Things won't quite be as they appear   She'll be floating in the stratosphere Soaring high with no fear Cos if you did not know The Hoodoo Voodoo Medicine Girl Burns on the fuel of your fresh tears.
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May 13, 2014
May 13, 2014 at 7:15 AM UTC
Hoodoo Voodoo Medicine Girl
nails dug through soil tearing stems in a sunflower field lavender and daisies melt her heart like yin and yang skin ruddy and golden from grand star kisses bohemian waves compliment her cheeks along with a blush warmth has masked dream catcher strings substitute her veins as if she was a native myth in soul and body bare feet stained earthly she runs, flies like a finch with dappled wings the spirits underground lift her high into the stratosphere she lets passion overcome fears
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Oct 30, 2014
Oct 30, 2014 at 3:20 PM UTC
Untitled
I seen a empty bottle in the trash. There was also napkins next to the trash. I wondered how many people use these napkins.. It's stated recycle. Recycle what ? Trees? Regurgitated garbage we eat over and over again ? How do we still have a mountain of trash. Plato and Socrates knew something. Perhaps eject it to space. Maybe we can **** our ozone if we just burn it. Cause earth swallows anything including pasts and futures. Who's in control of Earth's health. Cause we **** on it. And that bottle... Of course is full of **** and vinegar. Release all tension and let's rise to the stratosphere. Floating cities above Earth's gravity.. no pulling of our new system down.  Elisium on the moon. Perhaps a ride in a roller coaster to the darkside will thrill you more. Maybe it's not as cold and chilling as we thought.. and Earth's warmth and feelings will make a change like a landmass arise or one to fall.. I've fell many times. Now I've married the other half of my mind. People climbing out of oceans asking about ships.. but my dreamscape makes me the hero in my pirate flag informaniac boom. Cannons and truth. My voice in thought and control of the room. I blow horns like harps of trains and riots of mind boggling facts. I am and Lord knows Jesus will help me like a snub nose I tuck. I'll play gangster while my inner ghost fires the bullets.. I'm not violent as what sin runs in his blood. I'm just everything else and it's time I leave after passing and giving peace to my son. His family is mine and we deserve heaven.. same as 144 thousand.. all for order of the Bright Apollo flights and fry minds in a hystaria historical society of terror. Longer days hotter with white out snow. Raining tears and explicit when our children explore. Yes I ********** .. it's better then the alternative.. making more humans live... rebirth and love now Is in a different narrative.
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Aug 20, 2019
Aug 20, 2019 at 4:24 AM UTC
Cleanliness
I seen a empty bottle in the trash. There was also napkins next to the trash. I wondered how many people use these napkins.. It's stated recycle. Recycle what ? Trees? Regurgitated garbage we eat over and over again ? How do we still have a mountain of trash. Plato and Socrates knew something. Perhaps eject it to space. Maybe we can **** our ozone if we just burn it. Cause earth swallows anything including pasts and futures. Who's in control of Earth's health. Cause we **** on it. And that bottle... Of course is full of **** and vinegar. Release all tension and let's rise to the stratosphere. Floating cities above Earth's gravity.. no pulling of our new system down.  Elisium on the moon. Perhaps a ride in a roller coaster to the darkside will thrill you more. Maybe it's not as cold and chilling as we thought.. and Earth's warmth and feelings will make a change like a landmass arise or one to fall.. I've fell many times. Now I've married the other half of my mind. People climbing out of oceans asking about ships.. but my dreamscape makes me the hero in my pirate flag informaniac boom. Cannons and truth. My voice in thought and control of the room. I blow horns like harps of trains and riots of mind boggling facts. I am and Lord knows Jesus will help me like a snub nose I tuck. I'll play gangster while my inner ghost fires the bullets.. I'm not violent as what sin runs in his blood. I'm just everything else and it's time I leave after passing and giving peace to my son. His family is mine and we deserve heaven.. same as 144 thousand.. all for order of the Bright Apollo flights and fry minds in a hystaria historical society of terror. Longer days hotter with white out snow. Raining tears and explicit when our children explore. Yes I ********** .. it's better then the alternative.. making more humans live... rebirth and love now Is in a different narrative.
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By the time we die You're gonna be tired,  asleep, and satisfied My love will have made you sick Because it was too intense No stratosphere will keep us safe I will become insane As my feelings spiral out of control You will have no option my dear But to maintain an everlasting fever Because my love, Will warm you like the hottest arab sun And every mistake I've scarred your heart with My eternal dedication will erase Every day of my life as I pronounce your perfection This perception  will never change Like a controversial revolutionary anthem, The beat of my heart will pledge allegiance to you And you'll have no where to escape As the loud boom of my love drowns out our past You will have no choice but to die with this love You're gonna be tired,  asleep, and satisfied Because my love will have made you sick As it becomes volatile and intense
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Sep 16, 2012
Sep 16, 2012 at 10:51 AM UTC
Revolutionary Exclamations of Love
I’m Pluto. I’m a forgotten planet In my galaxy isolated Although others radiate around me Over the stratosphere but I can’t penetrate my light I look to find the solace; I feel safe when it is night.
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Nov 6, 2014
Nov 6, 2014 at 1:59 PM UTC
Pluto
Have you ever looked at the sky and felt forever? Like the stars are having conversations behind our backs- Taking bets, Sipping on cheap wine and Smoking cigarettes. Maybe they're telling stories? Cracking a joke, drinking a beer, and Gambling on our silhouettes. Drunk, they must fall out of the sky and down to earth, Like their butts created black smoke- Raining from the atmosphere. And maybe that's why the world is so ****** up, Chalk it up to star dust. They must really enjoy it up there, Faded in the stratosphere.
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Jun 13, 2012
Jun 13, 2012 at 5:44 PM UTC
Cigarette Butts & Star Dust
As I, in the forest, stood Pondering nature's wonder I peered up at the canopy, so lush and green Of which, I dallied under... Hopping through the foliage That stretched across the ground A chipmunk hurried to a log And alit upon it with a bound... Underneath the stratosphere High atop a tree A large black crow, I did hear Calling down to me... Proceeding to the beach, so warm My feet, prints in the sand, did form As I dug in with my toes, I felt the sun, so warm My mood was of repose... Seagulls, high above, did play Hunting, calling, all the day Upon the evening tide Bubbles of white foam did ride... The summer felt just like a friend Although, I knew, it, soon, would end My visit to this paradise Concluded in a way, so nice... I knew I would return, again To the shores of Lake Michigan.
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Nov 7, 2010
Nov 7, 2010 at 5:37 PM UTC
The Shores of Lake Michigan
*He is My Azure Dreambird, (The Sovereign of Songbirds) That soars upon Skies of Resonance. His sapphire wings Weightless by valor, Hallowed every doubt That Cursed my shadow Until credence reigned. He is The Musicality of my Soul, That I climbed as A stairway Into Gates of Aether Upon Porcelain keys Of an impearled Grand Piano. His sound emittance Ascended in frequency until Pitch became subliminal For height ceased to be Height, And depth, Ceased to be Depth, It was Ineffable harmony And resolution became effortless With The touch of his hand. He is The Wings of the Dawn, A Sweeping Rapture That raised Me Beyond the stratosphere Until graced by Untarnished embrace Of the Baptistery of the Sun. I burst From Light’s Intemerate Womb, Renewed and Gazed upon Terraqueous Gaia Then for once, (Yes, for all eternity) Succumbed to Faith in the Transcendence Of his tender affections. Woe was existence Before His lightwaves radiated Within my heart, For when I purged my pulse Of that quaking rhythm And Hollow cries Upon his ears, He stood moved And remained Doughty in his devotion To me. In that moment I fathomed his soul Glistened O, for he had not forsook me. I bear a pilgrimage. One sought to be Heard, Seen, Felt, Breathed, And Divined By my Once Somnolent spirit Been Roused By the incendiary thew of His ardor. My revenant soul Hath emerged from The Chrysalis of Time as The Apotheosis of Astral Flame (A Reverberation of the Cosmo-Plexus of Love) That since The Days of Time Immemorial Guided by the Whisper of the stars, I now cleave To that celestial susurrus: To the solace buried beneath The Soil of Afflicition (For anguish was all I knew) In repose Yet yearning to be Resurrected In The Dream of Acquisition, To for eternity behold The timeless fervor That doth layeth In His heart*
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Aug 14, 2016
Aug 14, 2016 at 11:52 AM UTC
The Apotheosis of Astral Flame (Originally Written on August 18th, 2016)
*He is My Azure Dreambird, (The Sovereign of Songbirds) That soars upon Skies of Resonance. His sapphire wings Weightless by valor, Hallowed every doubt That Cursed my shadow Until credence reigned. He is The Musicality of my Soul, That I climbed as A stairway Into Gates of Aether Upon Porcelain keys Of an impearled Grand Piano. His sound emittance Ascended in frequency until Pitch became subliminal For height ceased to be Height, And depth, Ceased to be Depth, It was Ineffable harmony And resolution became effortless With The touch of his hand. He is The Wings of the Dawn, A Sweeping Rapture That raised Me Beyond the stratosphere Until graced by Untarnished embrace Of the Baptistery of the Sun. I burst From Light’s Intemerate Womb, Renewed and Gazed upon Terraqueous Gaia Then for once, (Yes, for all eternity) Succumbed to Faith in the Transcendence Of his tender affections. Woe was existence Before His lightwaves radiated Within my heart, For when I purged my pulse Of that quaking rhythm And Hollow cries Upon his ears, He stood moved And remained Doughty in his devotion To me. In that moment I fathomed his soul Glistened O, for he had not forsook me. I bear a pilgrimage. One sought to be Heard, Seen, Felt, Breathed, And Divined By my Once Somnolent spirit Been Roused By the incendiary thew of His ardor. My revenant soul Hath emerged from The Chrysalis of Time as The Apotheosis of Astral Flame (A Reverberation of the Cosmo-Plexus of Love) That since The Days of Time Immemorial Guided by the Whisper of the stars, I now cleave To that celestial susurrus: To the solace buried beneath The Soil of Afflicition (For anguish was all I knew) In repose Yet yearning to be Resurrected In The Dream of Acquisition, To for eternity behold The timeless fervor That doth layeth In His heart*
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There are moments of clarity. They come sparingly And I ache for their return Once they decide to depart. In those mere seconds I finally know what my life entails And accept the greatness I hold. I am at a high that throws my mind Above its own capabilities, But I know the end is near Once my body begins to plummet Through the stratosphere, A simple shooting star To the eyes of onlookers.
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Sep 12, 2018
Sep 12, 2018 at 9:21 PM UTC
Tumble
With firm steady hands we grip our bows Principle fingers clipped the restless arrows We lift our bows high above our shoulders We pulled our strings till the appointed time Unleash them see each eagerly goes. Elastic bows where the arrows learn to ride Tough at the core but supple outside Bending to comply as far as it's stiffness could go Quickly flex to it's customery shape again Bow and arrow one unmoving one must stride. A swoosh and arrows found their freedom Swiftly carried with our prayers with some Trepidation by whims of their progress On target or strayed by rebellious wind On course with promises or to their doom. Children grew from our shadows took flight Taught what little we knew now flew out of sight Can't replicate us make their own learning curves Not forbidding their future endeavours Love and devotion can't hold them come what might. One by one we launched them into fresh air Like shooting stars arching through the stratosphere Some had scored some missed but none came back To and fro amble down the grassy track We'll walk to them they're waiting for us there.
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Aug 3, 2018
Aug 3, 2018 at 8:59 PM UTC
Lessons In Archery
Earth is alive Universe is alive The milky way The time is alive Space is alive The stratosphere The clouds are alive Air is alive The grass is alive The plants are alive The pets The wolf is alive The alive lion The deer is alive All fleshes The leaf is alive The clay is alive The sense alive The brain The man is alive The man The sheep is alive The time is alive The space The dead is alive The life is alive The present is alive Everything is alive In its own wilderness The wilderness is alive Alive you are Alive I am
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Jan 14, 2019
Jan 14, 2019 at 10:22 PM UTC
Alive 2 (abstraction)
What's your mirror think? Does it watch you disappear? Does it watch you blink? Safe beverages 8 decades to puppeteer Love your blemishes Dating makes us sad Auto-ionize our fear Acting ironclad Romance; the great farce We just wanna climb up here To indulge the hearts Earth grips my poor eyes Her key to the stratosphere Locked up compromise Dying for mudpools Mountaineers might make things clear Hope ya like blood-stools. Send me a cartoon Send a silver chandelier Send me poems soon
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Dec 12, 2017
Dec 12, 2017 at 4:30 AM UTC
Haikus are for lovers
I was driving through Washington yesterday, we started our trip in Renton and made our way down to Moses Lake; and in the process, we had to pass through the Cascades on our way there. As we drove, I watched as the exits flew past: Newcastle, Wenatchee, Snoqualmie, Ellensburg, and as we sped past each of these, Mt. Rainier loomed in the distance; her snow-capped peak standing tall and piercing through clouds, as the winding road passed through hills and valleys. As I gazed upon the jagged sheetrock towering all around me, I could not help but feel small. We've been told our whole lives just how big the world is and how much bigger the universe is in comparison But I've always had a hard time conceptualizing how infinitesimal and insignificant my existence is. So to be surrounded by thousands upon thousands of rock and stone that have withstood floods and storms and winds for millennia and still stand strong, well into the stratosphere, is nothing less than humbling.
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Jun 2, 2016
Jun 2, 2016 at 5:33 PM UTC
Going From Renton to Moses Lake
Madness is upon us and this.. This will be the end as we know it. The stratosphere has kept the heavens to quiver Thunders roared Lightnings have struck Rain blissfully starts to shower The men and their atrocities must drown Days upon days We are left to surrender Lost in a bermuda of the past Never to resurface in the light Give in Never give up Fight Accept Surrender It's time for us to truly live a life.
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Oct 23, 2015
Oct 23, 2015 at 12:02 PM UTC
10,000 Nights of Thunder
**Poet took a grandiose leap of faith,    amid a big swig of moonbeams    dabbling toes beyond starry galaxies Milky Way spun in translations     Pluto still looked perplexed, Big Dipper gave a smart **** grimace     wondering what the hell was    going on 'neath the stratosphere    when human beings can't keep        their heads above ambiguous clouds             feet  firmly planted on ground, delving lofty heaven's bliss      escaping the wrath of hell's fire,   aggrandizing endless poesy that absorbs sparks of a universal desire         never phasing sun's obstinance,    but, if you believe in poetry       there's no telling where         boundless skies will surrender** ...and the man in the moon tilted on his axis in a     backward's spiral and unabashedly winked
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Jun 25, 2015
Jun 25, 2015 at 7:59 AM UTC
Big swig of moonbeams