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Arcassin B Nov 2014
By Arcassin Burnham



I miss the sparkle in them,
How they laid my nerves calm,
Taking any defense I have,
From getting too close,
But not coming on too strong,
You know like over the top and such,
Looking for a better place for the base we touch,
You are a supernova,
You are a supernova,
Spinning my head around,
I think I'm crazy for you,
No desperate gestures,
I just want to let you know that..
When I stare into them,
They make me weak,
Turning away from all priorities for the week,
Just come and see you,
And when I see you I stare into those beautiful eyes.
Yeah ....
Micheal Bevan Nov 2010
Don't watch me bleed,
Pick it up,
Pick it all up,
And place it in your cup,
From which you drink your sins nightly.
You're so unsightly,
Your mother should have aborted,
How she could have supported,
That monster you are,
Disgusts me,
You're such a star.

Supernova,
You're brighter than any,
You're a quarter to my penny,
A dime to my dim,
Slim to my exact,
Addition to my subtract,
The loser to my win.

Supernova,
Monster mystery,
I reflect in your shadow,
In your shadow I am me,
Dark and discreet,
I knock at your door,
Invited in, I have a seat,
Wine please, more,
I am minor, major; I implore.

Supernova,
I lay death at your feet,
I lick the edges,
I taste defeat,
I've walked the ledges,
Life I've met, despair I'll meet,
Just you wait,
Supernova symphony,
I faint beautifully,
In wake of your sleep,
River wrists,
Dare slumber keep,
My heart at rest,
Supernova symmetry,
Torn apart at best.
English Jam Feb 2018
The eyes of a supernova seeping into mine
So harsh, so hot, but so soft, so loving
Passionate but patient
So much in so few
It’s so warm

Cheeky grins and burning desire taunt me
So painful, so explosive but so comforting, so alluring
Painstaking but playful
Ablaze though we’re scared
It’s extraordinary

There’s no words to match this melodic image
So sweaty, so intense but so quiet, so calm
Dreamy but real
Like a fantasy
It’s blissful

The sensation of fire melting to stardust
Embrace it, taste it, love it, feel it
Crafted and delicate
Two stars colliding
His pulsating heartbeat needs me
My longing kiss needs him

He’s my lover boy
And I’m his
It’s so warm
beth Aug 2017
supernova girl, don't be surprised.
you with the dark hair and darker love,
you with all the stars in your eyes,
you ought to know, i've had enough.

supernova girl, your heart glides like a dove,
you're radiant and warm, a beacon of bright
you've got the kind of passion i thought they only spoke of
you make me believe in the forever promise of daylight

supernova girl, when i hear you, i take flight
you sing and the world begins to know grace
you give me wings when i believe i'm ratite
you've helped me to know i have a place

oh, haven't you heard, supernova girl?
you are the best part of my world.
for alex and mitch (10/01/17 - 22:04)
George Anthony May 2017
I know that there is a table
in a Catholic high school in my local town
with an etch of the letter "G"
next to boredom-inspired vandal,
jagged lines, circles,
perhaps a few ******* shapes
as silly high school boys
are prone to draw.

An Advanced Maths textbook sits on a shelf
with a little doodle
of a peace sign next to an emo smiley
from a time where I was caught
between two phases,
tight black jeans and a flowing turquoise shirt.

Tobacco stains smeared
over the wood of a sealed off door
just outside my bedroom,
evidence of the first time
I tried a cigarette, seven years old,
and then panicked and tried to
flush it down the toilet,
only to have to fish it out and stuff it
in a little crevice, to be hidden and
remain there for seven years.

We leave all these little marks
and stains
in places we've been.
Spilled food, spilled ink, spilled drink,
tobacco stains and pools of blood.
"The marks humans leave are
too often scars."

I have scars.
Left forearm. Right calf. Right wrist bone. Both kneecaps.

A scar across my ribs and chest I was
so desperate to be rid of,
I bathed myself in oils and it was
the first scab I
never picked at; but a couple of weeks ago
I dreamt it was there again, fresh.
It tore open in front of everyone, bled out,
and I woke up gasping, drowning in my fear,
agonised, clutching at a wound that'd long since faded
convinced I could feel it splitting me apart again.

I have evidence all over my body
and more buried deep within the recesses of my mind,
scars so jagged they put knives to shame,
shining, pale, like diamonds in moonlight
not half as precious
but still invaluable.
Evidence of the marks humans leave behind.

I'm not innocent.
I don't pretend like I am.
I know there is a man out there
who gained another scar to add to his collection
when he was fourteen years old.
I know my hands carved it into his skin.
I know I used to use my fists
when others used their words to hurt me.

When I die, I know that I will leave
pieces of myself
everywhere
I've ever been. Whether people know it
or not, whether they
remember me
or not. There are ink stains
and coffee spills. My blood
is still on the floor of his house.
The high school cafeteria
has a circle of red
from a nosebleed I didn't realise I was having.
There are parks wearing my graffiti
and children donning my old clothes, and people overseas
still alive because of me

(or that's what they'll tell me, but
all I did was talk.
Give yourself the credit you guys deserve,
you're the ones who chose to listen.
You're the ones who had the strength to
pick your head up and carry on)

There are exes who still think of me
and friends who will one day
come across some article of clothing
or a piece of technology
I left behind after a sleepover.
Teachers who will remember
that smart, sarcastic student
who had panic attacks in their classrooms
and drank coffee in the mentoring hub with Mrs. Hume
whilst buttering bagels and functioning on no sleep.

Maybe our place in the universe is
insignificant. Or maybe it's the
most significant thing
of all.
Maybe the Buddhists are right.
Maybe we are the universe, together
as one. I sure think it makes sense.

Streams of consciousness
and spirits that need healing.
We work the sun
without even realising we're doing it.
We destroy it, too,
which is perhaps why we
are so self destructive in turn.

Maybe we're
smaller than specs of dust
but that's okay.
You don't have anything
without the particles required
to make things up.
Everything is a collection of atoms:
the tiniest things of all
yet they're the centre of everything,
the beginning of everything.

So when the end comes and
we burst back into the sky,
stardust and souls and
blinking little lights,
we'll have left our marks on the earth
regardless of who remembers
and we'll still be there, twinkling,
a collection of atoms that came from a supernova
essential to the makeup of galaxies
and life itself.
What could be more beautiful than that?
I don't know. It was... some sort of stream of consciousness, perhaps? I blanked out halfway through writing it.
Spenser Bennett May 2016
I've always wanted to be
An astronaut in the deep
Galactic sea where creation wrought
All that is exploding into naught

I know that this could
Not last the empty starlight wood
But I would hope you should ask
To bear the burden of a faceless mask

We could become wild-human-angels
Answering the unending questions
Soul-star-astronauts
But we're not

Leave the grass and the leaves to dust
In search of intergalactic rust
Sink into the ink of darkness perched
Awake from death, supernova rebirthed

All power to the grace of the distant
All glory to the face of singular instant
Bear the weight of tomorrow
Become the force removing sorrow

We could become wild-human-angels
Answering the unending questions
Soul-star-astronauts
But we're not

Such a quiet desperation
Such a dying fascination
Sean Critchfield Jul 2011
Dear…

I don’t even know what to call you. But, already, we are beyond such things, aren’t we? When you wander into my head from time to time and form to form I am left with out a course of action. Mostly because action seems… so… very…very… silly. But this time. I took said action. Here it is.

I am sounding this letter off of the sky as postage. I am licking my lips to seal the envelope and throwing my marbles into the sun. I am lifting you, without strings, with the last of my magic.

I am not sure how the universe will choose to eclipse or supernova our meeting. But I am patient. In the mean time, I will remain so.

But I thought you should know.

I promise you passion.
I promise you fire.
I promise you mood swings, and fights, and making up, and making love.

I promise you an insatiable hunger to touch you. Kiss you. Be with you. To a fault if you wish.

I promise you a less than perfect attention. I promise to get too caught up in my vision of you to notice you, from time to time. I promise to notice you, more often than not.

I promise laughing. Together and at each others expense. But laughing. And laughter. And cause for it.

I promise to be serious. And scowl. And furrow my brow and nod my head at just the right times.

I promise to picture you naked at the most inappropriate times. I promise to paint pictures of your smile on the back of my eyelids while I sleep. I promise to sleep next to you, feeling my body scorch as our temperatures press together in red patches of skin.

I promise you poetry. And wine. And both at once.

I promise you adventure. I promise you distant landscapes and matching our rhythm to the train we find ourselves in, watching the blue, gray, and green streak by our window like an exercise in futility and motion.

I promise you futility and motion.

I promise you faith. I promise you doubt. I promise you a clenched fist and an open hand. I promise you my shoulders to stand on and my frame to drink from. I promise you holding hands on midnight drives from place to place.

I promise you silly.

I promise you gifts and flowers for no reason. I promise you a constant reminder of my awareness of the gift of a woman that I have been blessed with.

I promise you breakfast in bed. I promise you all day in bed.

I promise you discipline. And craft. And becoming a master of loving you.

I promise you truth. And empty promise. I promise you the promise of more.

I promise to be artful. I promise to be delicate. I promise to be crass and a brute. I promise to regret what I have said, over and over. I promise you steadfastness through the changes as we learn to navigate the many tides of the sea we find ourselves drowning in together.

I promise to be your opposite and drive you mad. I promise to be your equal and touch you thusly.

And you. I promise to only allow you entry to my heart if you are what I know I want.

I am faithful. I am loyal. I will not fill your space with less than you.

And I’ll only ask that you be worthy of this.

And here is something shiny.
And red.
For you.
To wear.
As your own.

It is all I have.

My return address is on my palm, out stretched to you. I await the scent of perfume on the letter you will write in me.

Red and Shiny.
And worthy.

All My Love,
Sean
Those supernova eyes,
Outshine the galaxy in her freckles.
Her busts like mountains,
And curves like a river..
Hair radiating like sunrays,
Thighs like smooth iceberg..
Within her divine body, melts my universe.
Jen Dec 2018
For a short time,
Supernova outshines galaxies;
It explodes and
Imprints images
Across Andromeda's face,
Overexposed across its gaze,
Blinds & Spills in all directions,
Up & Up. Down & Down. Around & Around.

I’d drag these regrets to the far-off reaches,
Just to be left speechless,
As we watch it outshine the Sun,
I would.

I forgive you, and myself too.
It was supernova, not meant to live
Long.

Forgiveness
Is like a Nebula’s Kiss,
It gives birth to new life
And leaves the past behind.

A star dies in supernova flame,
And the view from here is spectacular,
Don't miss it.
This poem is a reflection on past relationships with friends and lovers that did not last and the importance of forgiveness and moving on with your life after "the blast" of the supernova, as a relationship dies.  We must remember, that although some stars die, others are meant to be reborn in  Nebula.
Aridea P Oct 2011
Palembang, 22 Juni 2011

Api itu hampir merajai waktu
Merenggut harta benda tanpa ampun
Mangarang tubuh yang sesepuh
Duduk pun terdiam di kursi besi butut

Kekuatan api bagai Sang Supernova
Membumbung tinggi tak ada yang terjaga
Meletup-letup bagai haus dan lapar
Tinggallah hamparan abu di senja tiba

Sebelum fajar menyingsing indah
Berisik di tengah jalan sirine mengulang
Langkah kaki mondar-mandir yang tentu arah
Bergotong royong pun dengan peluh dan baju basah

Ku duduk terdiam terpaku
Setengah melamun di sebelum senja muncul
Ku tersadar pun di tengah padam lampu
Dan ku lihat Monalisa tersenyum pada ku

Ku duduk bersimpuh di kaki
Menunduk dan berharap ini hanya mimpi
Dan aku bangkit tuk lihat situasi
Ku dengar mayat rapuh bagai tiada arti lagi

Tak mampu tumpah air mata
Hanya tubuh kaku mati rasa
Pikiran yang ingin selalu waspada
Mental ini rapuh butuh udara

Abu terasa di mana-mana
Terinjak, menyatu dengan tanah
Menutup mata kini selaalu terjaga
Menjaga hari tanpa Supernova

9 Juni penuh cerita
Di bawah tangisan dan panikan
Wanita memasak dan menjaga anak
Pria bahu membahu membangun rumah
ryn Jan 2015
.
   Curious minds,
      splashing under
       moonlight
       With
      outstretched kisses
     pulsating yellow,
     Over the awestruck
      magical
       rainbow,
         Feverishly tracking each
         supernova
      on sight.


   Resting the moment
    on a
     cresting knoll,
    With
   an audience of several
   time-worn
     rocks.
      Whilst the
        whistling sirens
        in the winds do call...
          Wasting away
        the ticks of
     worldly
      clocks.


        Evading with class,
       all
       heart's turbulence,
        Craters of sadness
          congeal
           in thin air,
             Glamorous amnesia
             falls
          with cadence,
         Eyes wide shut,
         susurrating
          a
           lost prayer.


             Lifeless gazes
               yield
               only
             abrasive tears.
             As erratum
              catches up
                with its
                 gaping maw.
              Hurling
            its anguish
             in
             rips and shears,
              Bleeding out
                of
               singing wounds
             so raw.

             But...
              time carries confident,
                its stock of
                   soothing balm.
                   Latent doses
                 hidden
                within
                 invisible vials.
                  Welcoming vision
                    with its
                    sunlit palms,
                   Staving the longing
                    for the
                    fear of trials.


                      Now hushed
                         remain the remorseful
                        battle trenches,
                        Deprived of their own
                          victims
                           ­ save gaping wounds,
                            Only
                        ­     faint faith
                                commanding
                ­                   corroded limp
                                   forces,
                                 Stirring
                                light away
                               from
                                all
                        ­         agony
                                    and
                   ­                doom.



                              Moonskittles
           ­                 *ryn
.
This has been an amazing experience!!! Big thanks to Moonskittles for the opportunity to share a page with her captivating style of poetry!!!
.
Sympathy I feel for those who haven’t seen what I’ve seen, and for those who have felt what I’ve felt. The embodiment of my regret, shining with all the light once saved me, now engulfs me in torment of my mistake. As I orbit in harmony with the rotation of a green star, that is much more than just a green star, I ponder what my life would be if I still had my green star. I know that in time, this green star that means everything and more to me, will collapse and perish, but we will only be able to see the star frozen in time, that very instant before it collapsed, desperately clinging to one single moment. I still cling to that moment, the moment I saw my soul break free from the chains that I thought would hold me down perpetually, in her eyes. I don’t quite know how it happened, I wasn’t looking for it, I wasn’t on the make, it was the perfect storm, I said one thing, she said another, and the next thing I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my days in the middle of that conversation. It’s painful to admit that I ruined the most precious friendship I’ve ever had, which tends to sting more when she was the only genuine friend I’ve ever had. I prefer solidarity most of the time, but that doesn’t mean I don’t long for a companion every now and again, but lately that desire grows stronger and stronger, holding on to the memory of the companion I once had and lost. My life on Earth, my past life, would be considered prosperous; I was one of the top aerospace engineers in the world, which is a very time consuming and painstaking practice, but exploring the unknown territories of the universe had always been my passion. I didn’t have much of a family, my mother and father passed away when I was 22 years old, and my brother and I severed ties shortly after the death of our parents, and I had not desire nor time for a significant other, let alone the willingness to dedicate my life to another person. I always believed that I embodied the definition of misplacement, I never seemed to fit in any particular group of people, nor with any other person, really, I enjoyed getting lost in the sea of my thoughts, riding the waves, pondering ideas, asking questions that can only be answered in theory, which essentially renders me incapable of interacting with others. However, being your own best friend can sometimes lead to psychotic thoughts of self-loathing, and eventually the last straw broke the backbone of my perseverance, and I convinced myself to commit suicide. Originality and pretentiousness ****** me, demanding myself to end my life a way no one else’s life has ended, and my imagination spiraled into a storm, brainstorming my own demise. My most recent endeavor at the time was to manufacture a personal bubble that would sustain in space, and condensing a spaceship into the size of a smart car was the threshold between my pathetic life of this planet, and self-destructive glory. After a year of an extremely unhealthy intensity of research, my talisman of my soul, my most cherished invention, my cosmic coffin. I traveled from my home in Anchorage to the highest point in Alaska, Mount McKinley, and inserted my body comfortably inside my space bubble and proceeded to ascend into my eternal salvation, ascending towards achievement of my life’s dream, ascending the edges of space, where no human has ever occupied in history. The butterfly feeling in my stomach, caused by the sheer joy I felt, is probably the closest feeling I had ever felt at the time to true love, the irony of my affection for death. As I slipped past our atmosphere and found myself floating closer towards the stars and planets, I sat down and enjoyed the galactic show of entropy before me, and after a while the visual melody put me in a hypnotic state, and before I knew it I was being stated down by a saucer shaped spaceship with luminous blue lights encompassing the round edge of the ship. I felt my capsule gravitating towards and entering the ship through a small hole on the underbelly of its structure, that appeared to look like a portal. As I passed through the light I was being observed by a feminine looking blue creature, with bright green eyes that sparkled like emeralds in the moonlight, and long, luscious blonde hair, straight and smooth as silk. She was tall, which I realized as I stood up out of my capsule, about an inch taller than my six foot frame, with long, skinny fingers and decently big webbed feet, and a long slender tail hanging down from her backside that wasn't quite long enough to touch the ground. She had shiny, scaly skin that had a deceptive rough appearance in texture, but felt soft and smooth when her hand reached out to embrace mine, and she said, "Hello, I am called Elora, what are you called?" Still in shock, the only awkward response I muttered was, "Eric" and she asked, "Why are you here Eric?" As I regained my quick wit I declared, "Does anyone know why they're here?" She smiled, exposing her sharp white teeth and proposed, "Well, you can help me find out." I think it had something to do with the adrenaline rush caused by the mystery and uncertainty of the situation, but I caught myself grinning, I didn't even realize I was smiling, it was an odd, unfamiliar feeling, but I was madly attracted to this blue angel from the stars. I spoke to her about my life on Earth, and my elaborate suicide plan, and she explained to me that she abandoned her home planet Eridani to conduct galactic research, and that she was from the Altair race. She elaborated on how life on Eridani did not satisfy her, and that she would spend her life roaming around nebulas, exploring galaxies, researching stars, and documenting her experiences. She showed me a star that she claims as hers, a green star called Zohra, which was her favorite star because she said she could only feel happiness when looking at it, to which I said, “It reminds of your eyes” and she looked at me and seemed flattered. She loved that star, her eyes lit up brighter than the star itself when she would stare at it, hypnotized at the sight of it, which I cared little to notice because I couldn’t look away from her. I couldn’t quite understand how someone could be so invested in something like that, something that just sits there spinning and spinning, peacefully participating in the orchestra of the universe. I think she was so fascinated by this object because she felt the same disconnect from others of our kind. The lonely, outcast feeling connected us, ironically, and we carried on intriguing conversation for what felt like an eternity, and I only wish that conversation could've lasted longer. I found in Elora what I had not found in any human being, she understood me, to the point where I was convinced she had mind reading abilities, and her understanding me didn’t diminish her interest in me, like what usually happened to me on Earth. I found happiness in her company, I found salvation in her embrace, I found unparalleled beauty inside and out, and I found myself in our friendship.  As time slowly rolled on my affection for Elora grew increasingly unbearable, and eventually the realization dawned upon me that I had to inform Elora of my feelings for her. We were accelerating towards the Crab Nebula, and I noticed the blurred blue light in the center, wrapped around by streams of red and yellow light, holding the blue heart in the center together. Elora was to me what the red and yellow streams were to the integrity of the Crab Nebula, without those streams, without Elora, my soul would fall apart and disburse, just like the blue light in the center of the Crab Nebula. When I turned, looked her square in her eyes, her gorgeous eyes that were accented by the light emitting from the Crab Nebula, those eyes that pull you in and leave you in a trance, those eyes that display the beauty of nature condensed into two little spheres that seemed to effortlessly gaze inside my soul, breaking down every single wall that I have ever built up to hide myself from other people, and uncover everything I so desperately attempted to hide deep down, and I said to her, “You are the only reason I’m still alive, the only reason I still want to live, the only other soul that accepted my lost, broken soul, you are the most amazing, most beautiful creature born from the stars we now roam around, I tried to die to see what heaven is like, but heaven can wait, because there is nothing more I want than to be with you until the day my soul slips away from my body, I am madly in love with you Elora.” I poured my heart and soul out to her, bleeding out every ounce of passion and love and sophistication to her, exposing every bit of my emotions, leaving me naked and defenseless before her. Different scenarios raced around my head about how she would respond, and she glanced down at the ground, looked back up at my blank face, and she said, “My people do not love, we do not believe in love, and we cannot love. Love, no matter how polarizing it may seem, always fades in time, everything fades in time, love fades in time, ideas fade in time, you will fade in time, I will fade in time, in the end, nothing is perpetual.” My heart sank down into my stomach, and right at that moment I grasped the idea of why they call it “falling in love” because I landed harder than I could even fathom, I did not know that such powerful emotional sorrow could physically hurt so bad. I dropped down to one knee, and the streams of tears ran from my face and splashed down on the ground, like delicate little glass beads shattering as they made contact with the surface, shattering like my heart and soul. The pure agony and embarrassment of staying with the love of my life, whom I had just made an absolute fool of myself in front of, was enough to crush any man’s esteem, so the only rational option I could think of was bail towards my space bubble, and go as far away as I possibly could from the light that saved me. With every inch of separation between her and I, my heart and soul grew sour and stone cold, and new theories to rationalize my reaction and actions that followed. As a child I went to an amusement park, and I was particularly frightened of a certain attraction that lifted you straight up, a couple hundred feet, and dropped you straight down, and now I realize that my fears of love are comparable to this ride. I was so mortified by the ascension, which precedes love, that I could never enjoy the thrill of the fall, even though this time the safety harness didn’t soften the landing. I came to the conclusion, after years of thought, that I could not blame Elora, it was who she was and there was nothing she could do to change that, and instead of accepting the fact that she did not love me, I cowardly abandoned the only thing in my life that I gave a **** about, I ran away from the only other being in the universe that could make me smile the way she made me smile. After years of solidarity and self-loathing I realized that I would much rather spend my life with Elora, even if she didn’t love me, as opposed to regressing back to my lonesome life, only surrounded by a vast, more captivating scene. The only reason I am still alive is because I have not given up hope that one day I will find Elora again, and I will beg for her forgiveness, and hopefully I will be able to cherish every precious moment I spend with her. I solemnly believe that the slim chance will occur that I will once again see that face, gaze into those eyes I once did, and curse my old self for being foolish enough to leave her. I am not certain, but I can only hope that she is at least indifferent to encountering each other once again, but if she denies me I cannot blame her, because after all it is my fault for my impulsive escape. But for now I wander as a nomad amongst the stars that form constellations that all remind me of Elora, watch the planets rotate, and reminisce on the time we shared together, the time I took for granted, time that I consider to be the most precious moments of my life’s experience. I spend most of my time roaming around Zohra, which was where she and I parted ways, in hopes that one day she will return to her favorite star, to find me right there waiting for her, however patience has not served me well, and my actions which I so deeply regret caused her to abandon the star which she claimed as hers, the star that radiated happiness upon her, the magnificent star that embodied her in beauty and essence, to avoid the thought of me leaving her, which is justifiable because she was probably very flustered by me scrambling to leave her after my episode. I rotate around Zohra, observing its physical qualities, seeing Elora’s face every single time I look upon its surface, but one day the light exiting the pores of the planet grew significantly brighter, and Zohra began rotating and shaking at a phenomenally fast speed, and I witnessed Zohra swallow itself in a supernova, creating a black hole. I interpreted this to represent the death of the hope I had to once again see Elora, or maybe time had taken her like time had taken her beloved star. I allowed myself to succumb to the irresistible force from the black hole, and the death of hope I had to once more see the angelic face of my love, swallowed my space bubble and my hollow body occupying it, to the point of no return, where I can no longer regret what I had done to her, because in time, my love for her destroyed me.
Imagine making love amongst the stars
with the Milky Way for our bed while the galaxy watch.
As the planets orbits around us our ****** would be like that of a supernova creating our own constellation.
Interstellar lovers traveling the cosmos on a cloud of star dust.
With the rings of Saturn I thee wed making you the queen of my universe

Written by Keith Edward Baucum
m lang Dec 2017
a simile comparing my love to the explosion of a star as a supernova

have you ever seen a star explode?
do you know what a supernova feels like?
I've never seen a supernova, but I've felt one.  I've fallen in love with the brightest stars and once they disappear, it's only a matter of time before it hits me. First the wind hits me from the outermost layer and I feel it but have no idea what's to come. Then the heat begins to consume me. It's hurting but I've not reached the point of rupture. And once I do my whole body collapses into the heart of a supernova. Watching the star burst into a million pieces all at once as if thinking about your own heart, feeling it do the same.

That's what it felt like loving you, you were a supernova that just completely decimated my world.
Written 8.11.16
Terry O'Leary Aug 2013
PROLOGUE

Umpteen billion years
Big Bang, supernova, gas
Brief eclipse of time

Gases swirling, fall
Sun and planets, water, goo
Brief eclipse of time

Another billion
life, amoeba, fishes swim
Brief eclipse of time

Movement, change and flux
slither, crawl, climb, walk and talk
Brief eclipse of time

Ra, Sol, Helios,
Mithra and the Mighty Eye
Brief eclipse of time

Life begins and ends
birth, joy, laugh, cry, death, and dust
Brief eclipse of time

Waves cleave seas, shores, skies
forever folding, pulsing
Brief eclipse of time


            
CHRONICLE

The Mighty Eye begins to slip and slowly sink,
(unfocused, stained, diffuse)
while frizzled waves imbibe her searing tears,
with salted languid lips.

The Mighty Eye, now weary, thin,
is gazing through the frozen cracks,
as sundry straying clouds,
bloated,
sidle feebly by
and wax their billowed tracks
upon the heated sky,
and cool the rush of rolling waves
beneath the blotted sky.

The waves
(impaled on time and space inside me),
gently tumbling aging pebbles
and lifeless shells across the shifting sands,
seem unaware
as they once again arise
to greet the Mighty Eye,
to close the Mighty Eye,
to ***** the Mighty Eye.

But then again,
perhaps the waves are well aware indeed,
yet simply unconcerned
and feel no need to care.

For, as the frazzled froth is rushing forward
madly towards the sandy shores beyond,
before retreating slowly,
then careening brashly forth ahead again,
eternally,
it matters little if the Mighty Eye will cast
her blazing glance from high above,
or else retire for the night,
kissed sweetly by the liquid lips
of distant faithless waves
in a brief eclipse of time.

The trees, they hang in time and space around me –
trees, which in time before had swayed,
so gently tugged by ocean breezes,
trees, which in time before were lightly lit
with emerald tinted leaves,
trees, which in time before had reached to space above
with twisted tangled fingers,
grasping fingers,
fingers drenched with golden tears
shed by the Mighty Eye.

The trees, they hang in space and time,
benumbed and frozen motionless around me
chilled with rooted premonitions of the void,
their branches clutching darkness  
and their leaves foreboding doom.

The muted winds begin to whisper tales
of many frightened things,
which, with mournful apprehension
have hunkered down behind the haze
and ceased their joyful play.

And all the while dank shadows gaily dance
a dismal dance,
for their time is soon to come.

The fitful shore lies suddenly still.

Unfeeling stones and hollow shells,
are paused a little,
stalled,
and dropped haphazardly,
midst their mindless random journey,
now abandoned by the sea,

for fickle waves have slipped away
to greet a falling prey.

And as the Mighty Eye droops lower,
laminated molten lips
are pursed and pucker higher,
******* in the sky.

Within a trice the Mighty Eye
submits and squints, distended red,
perhaps tormented by fantastic thoughts
of imminent demise,
or else of being lashed beneath a lid
of distant faithless waves.

And as her dying flash dissolves,
two lurid lips arise,
three ***** lips -
a thousand parted limpid lips
which asudden,
though with little haste,
consume the Mighty Eye.

                  
EPILOGUE**

The trees are now but lurking shades
amongst the murky shadows.

Relentless fog slips slowly by -
her floating tongues drip silence
as they slink like snakes in stealth nearby.

The lacerated faithless lips have once again returned
to kiss the vacant vapid shores
in a brief eclipse of time.
Alan McClure Jan 2011
No-one told the snowdrops
that the world is coming to an end
that there is no sense in trying anymore
that darkness has finally defeated the light

And ignorant of the truth
they push once more
through the mould and grit
raising their heads above ground

Stopping me in my tracks.

Oh yes!  Things used to live here!
The wan Scottish sun used to warm us
and the endless pounding rain slaked thirst
and pumped like blood into new life and hope.
How did we forget?

And they change everything.
They change everything.
They return the world to the state they need it to be in,
they are nodding heralds of the coming supernova

which will happen
with us
or
without us.
- From Also Available Free
Fiel Jan 2018
You came into his life
Like a supernova
A brilliant point of light
That has captured his sight

You're unlike any other
you're a supernova
A huge explosion of light
That sets his universe alight

A star so bright
An extraordinary view
You're his Supernova
And He's captivated by you.
στον φίλο μου
ottaross May 2014
A hammer upon the landscape.
Thunder like a toppling mountain.

Flashes like x-ray explosions.
Supernova surprise.

Sheets of rain.
Glistening-rebar javelins
Pierce the asphalt
Shatter the concrete.

Long shards of glass
From the grey
Steel-wool clouds.
Yasi Aug 2014
this morning i woke up
with mascara smudges
and a dry throat
and salty lips
i sat on a hard wooden kitchen chair
as i read an article about the life cycle of a star

i learned that the bigger and brighter the star
the shorter its life,
the brighter it burns
the less time it has before an explosion destroys it
from the inside out
crushing it into pieces
and propelling them into the universe

as i read
i found myself remembering the day you told me you loved me
so much
you could just explode

and i wonder if maybe this whole supernova explosion thing
applies to love
because our love was bright and consuming and fast
and ended in an explosion
that destroyed me from the inside out
crushed me into pieces
that were propelled into the universe
jdmaraccini Apr 2013
The next life will greet you when the last grain of sand drops,
within the magical hourglass inside our makers' thoughts.
Layer after layer; we shed our fear till the ego is found,
drowned by the light of a supernova,
shattered loud with a glorious sound.
Death ends the circle of life, our bodies will be vaporized.
Hold my hand and close your eyes, hug me tight but do not run,
for tonight the skies ignite in the glory of our supernova sun.
© JDMaraccini 2013
mel Jul 2018
i could hold all of human existence
within this single cosmic groove
bathing me in a flicker of fate
where our auras collided into

our two flames were infused
within this moment we grew
there was bending of Light
that mended me to you

and maybe i still blind myself
in the brightness of that truth
maybe i burned my own heart
by touching you to soon

but fire gives life to the stars
warming the sun and the moon
pain makes room for brightness
the cracks have made me new

in that moment i first touched you
the supernova in me came to
so i embrace the pain that grew
i guess exploding is just what we do
jdmaraccini Sep 2013
Divine Minds Transcend

This life is full of circus mirrors made to distort what matters.
When the ride slows down, and our mind begins to clear, we frantically try to quiet the chatter.
Layer after layer we shed our fears until our ego is found,
drowned in the light of a supernova,
then shattered loud with glorious sound.

The earth is a living, breathing body, fragile as it comes undone.
This body has a thriving soul, pulsating inside a honeycomb.
This body has a mind with an ego, that believes it's in full control.
The time has come for our consciousness to ascend to the next level.

The nether world will greet you when the last grain of sand drops,
in the hourglass of fallen people, deep inside a single thought.
We all must follow the burning flock, or purge our life of the ego.
Will you answer if they knock, and begin the spirit walk?
If you walk I shall join you and leave behind a sequel.

Death ends the circle of life, soon our bodies will be vaporized.
Hold my hand and close your eyes, hug me tight but do not run,
for tonight the skies ignite in the glory of our supernova sun.

Layer after layer we shed our fears until our ego is found,
drowned in the light of a supernova,
then shattered loud with glorious sound.
© JDMaraccini 2013

ego [ˈiːgəʊ ˈɛgəʊ]
n pl egos
1. the self of an individual person; the conscious subject
2. (Psychoanalysis) Psychoanal the conscious mind, based on perception of the environment from birth onwards: responsible for modifying the antisocial instincts of the id and itself modified by the conscience (superego)
3. one's image of oneself; morale to boost one's ego
4. egotism; conceit
Tiffany Case Apr 2011
The night reveals more than just the stars
And moons and worlds and Milky Way bars
For the dark matter as a backdrop to the cosmos
Will one day rip its space-time fleece
But when and where, you’ll never know

Stars are like flowers and warrant no rebirth
From the gaseous remnants light years from Earth
For accretion pulls me in like your nebula cries
At the event horizon of a black hole *****
That gladly consumes my coy little lies

Watch them all burn and fail, once fiery *****
And consummate a lifespan for no reason at all
Churning in a chaotic standstill of time
Those supernova dreams and aspirations
Ultimately useless, but in all ways, sublime

Why do they exist and makes them die?
From the quantum quarks to the red giant eyes
I am searching for answers in an ignorant space
On a planet revolving on separate realities
Revolving on a path with a polluted trace

We sit in circles round an astral plane
Without questioning logic and something to gain
But like a star’s supernova, I’m ready to burst
Return from space and find our sun mid-stellar explosion
Eager to stand up and feel it first
Randy Johnson Nov 2015
We had some visitors that came from outer space.
Those aliens came here to enslave the Human race.
I met the leader and he demanded that I bow down before him.
He said that if I didn't, our galaxy would meet a fate that was grim.
I told that alien **** that I only bow down before the almighty Jehovah.
The alien leader got so mad that he said they would destroy our galaxy by causing a Supernova.
But God wiped out the aliens with bolts of lightning.
Jehovah God was victorious because he is a king.
Jehovah stopped those aliens from causing chaos.
He showed those alien fiends that he is the boss.
This is a fictional poem.
Blink and a star is on its way to sleep,
I'm standing so close to Jupiter,
I can feel its winds sweep me off my feet,
I'm an astronaut without a name,
I'm an astronaut without a name.

Consider this,
I'm away on a cruise to Saturn's ring tonight.
Consider this,
The Sun's so far, it's so cold, I can't feel the light,
You penetrate my gravity armour,
You strike me with your black hole armada.

Neptune looks so lonely at night,
She longs for Venus but she's so far away,
Four hours at the speed of light,
But she's bound by the chains of gravity,
She's bound by the chain's of gravity.

Consider this,
I'm a million asteroids left alone in the emptiness,
Consider this,
I reach out for the blue but I burn in the atmosphere,
Your skies have set me on fire,
Burning in the flames of your desire.

The birth of a star painted in a supernova,
The glowing halo of a mothership,
Is all that was left over.
They reach out for the sun,
They reach out for the sun.

Consider this,
They don't have ******* eyes like Mother told us.
Consider this,
They look like him and her we spoke to on the bus.
But you flew your guns at them,
You rushed your bombs at them.


It was on the news that she brought down the aliens,
They looked like me and you but she went after them,
But nobody could be found on the ship that brought them here,
The red lights on Mars they felt was safer than this fear,
And yet she found one of them,
The one who saved them all,
The one who chose to stay,
And take the fall.
The unnamed astronaut.
The unnamed astronaut.
It’s one of those nights
where I miss the way you breathe out the stars when you laugh,
freckling the sky’s velvet skin with drops of
gold.
Your lips were the sun
which I orbited myself around and
your eyes the moons which pulled my tides.
The Milky Way that was
your skin
felt just like Heaven beneath my touch
and your lips on mine ignited an incandescent
supernova.
And as I lay here now
I think back to the
black hole
that collapsed our celestial world.
All that we knew died.
Not with a whimper,
but with a
bang
Lizzie Juliet Feb 2013
Stardust.
Born bright.
The Main Attraction.
Blinding Light.

Supernova.
Dead star
Black hole
Is all we are

Supernova
Stardust.
Don't wanna start over
We must.

Binary
Found a friend
But we're all just stardust in the end.
sincelastjune Oct 2014
we collided that night
and caused a supernova
since then, it has been hell or heaven
no in between, no turning back
i want this forever
not just for a year or two
and i think you do too
but forever is a long time
and we don't know what forever looks like
but we know that people change
and feelings sometimes fade
i hope ours don't
i hope we fall for each other every day
like raindrops on window panes
like leaves from tall trees
like tears from newborn babies
i hope we fall, but never falter
because that fire in my soul
is alive and well
since we caused that supernova
i've been burning inside for you
and i just hope you have
the same sensation in your organs
i can only hope you feel the same way
and if you don't, i'll understand, i'll swallow it
like prescription pills
Dondaycee Nov 2017
Next lifetime just let me be,
All lost souls that noticed me,
Over killed the hope in me,
Helpful hands unnoticed, feet,
Blistering I’m growing weak.
I have questions for the runaways,
How did your feet get so strong?
Why couldn’t I tag along?
Did you leave home to be alone or vice versa, got cold and was searching for warmer days in the week?
What is life without a friend dependent on I,
Is trust nonexistent when there’s a mention of side,
Is it not selfish to love yourself before mind,
A system that houses a light linked throughout time,
“-What do you want?”
For you to love me like you love all.
Look in the mirror, what about this person,
“I’m always here, all you have to do is call”
Where’s the assertion? I’m looking for words because the ones I’m using aren’t working.
Never felt too good in crowds, because there’s folks around, and they’re always thinking,
Never felt too good or proud, when joyful sounds touch my heart before they’re leaving,
“-Loving others isn’t a bad thing, lose the fear, it’s a state of being.
Don’t hate yourself for seeing a reality that others aren’t capable of seeing.”
But, Am I dreaming?
“Do not confuse yourself, you don’t want to lose yourself for dreams are other realities, you are currently in a state of being.”
But what is being?
“To be or not to be is the question.”
… Give me clarity
“Everything is being, it’s all existing, everything existing is living.”
Is this another lesson?
“Is death to exist and not be, or to be and not exist?
That is my suggestion-”
-How can you be and not exist?
“To exist is to have objective reality, a reality that exist independent from our minds.
Consciousness construct realities through imagination in space, which is time,
So, does the world end when we die,
Or does the experience of this reality end and our consciousness move into another reality beyond the human mind?
Would the state of being then not exist after existences?”
Let me go the distance with an analogy to make sure there’s nothing I’m missing.
Is it pain to love in a world that perceive it with ignorance, or to fully understand it and not have the experience?
“A little personal but the balance is understood.”
I just needed some clarity to be reassured,
Because sometimes I’m insecure,
There’s never been a life that’s “similar”,
And I see things in my life that will occur,
Pretty lady, baby don’t you close the door,
With other opportunities of loving me more,
Arkyi, Dondaycee, keep my knees from the ground,
In times I forget to stand, and am feeling less than a man should when his woman’s aroused,
By another… that feeling’s profound.
“-Jealousy found, that energy is not allowed when there’s confusion around.”
Where’s that soothing sound that moved me in dreams,
That had me chasing angels confusing chicken with wings,
Searching for permission in missing some things,
Like the giggle or a touch that slowly faded through change,
Like that love at first sight that never made it to name,
Those “unspoken” relationships that never made it to name,
Those misunderstood moments I forgave and delayed an encounter because I couldn’t forget the feeling she gave before  pain.
Those hideaway hearts is where my shelter remained,
Because they kept the love pure when it was easy to drain.
It isn’t easy to contain let alone obtain a power source linked to the brain and refrain from allowing an equivalent vibration; being fear, creep into the domain and create a disease of insane.
“-Insanity is just as contagious as stupidity-”
-Please explain how to maintain love’s stability when hostility is blurred into a thin line.
Inhumane is humane when the word justify emerges in a reign of ignorance which solidifies the moment the sane become repetitive credited to an infection that dried the terrain of perception,
Unreceptive the brain becomes when love is trying to sustain which leads to strain that results in pain and fear burst as a supernova leading to actions in vain again and again,
Oh lord, the power of a woman.
If men could be before doing, we wouldn’t often do things we “shouldn’t”,
“It’s not a matter of wrong or right but evolving into light.”
Is it odd that I acknowledge you, voice inside my head?
“Just as odd as the words left unsaid before night.”
This solitude thing, it isn’t enough anymore, I need something new.
I learned to love myself from red to blue,
And I just reached purple, now all I see is white,
May that energy continue to heal and rise,
Frequency, continue to create shorter and steeper hills, so that I am able to write,
Documentations of this experience  discovering love that’s unforgettable,
Because self hate should never be unforgivable.
That illness is always hospitable,
The existence of love is aboriginal,
Individually being is medicinal and additional if traditional.
Through ourselves is how we connect to all, an adventure to,
Dive within thyself but too many times I forget myself.
Every time I learn to stand, I project and fall like I forget my shell,
Because it’s easier to live life as light than with the body, odd of me to dismiss my health,
Physical problems; wanting love, a senseless touch; tempted to rush a manifestation of her beside me.
That’s the biggest lie when all I need is I and the being inside me.
If this is a human experience, neglecting the body is a serious condition, mysterious as if ID.O.M and 3D have been misspelled,
Then what is hell?
“Death.”
I thought death doesn’t exist?
“It doesn’t, it’s a reality when the state of being is no longer well.”
To be… or not to be…
“That is a question of wealth.”
Waverly Mar 2012
Hometown girls
are real with you.
If they don't like you,
they'll even make their *****
look ugly;
pulling them in all the way
to the tops of their thighs
through their buttholes
and you can smell the stench
in your brain.

But when they let you in,
when they let you sit on their ears,
it's like warp-drive.

They smoke virginia slims,
because that's what their mom's smoke,
and the bags under their eyes
are filled with nicotine,
but they're pretty bags,
purses of flesh
full with the kinetic beauty of coal.

Hometown girls are mostly black,
mostly white,
fifty-fity,
but nobody's checking
and when they whisper something nice in your ear
it's colored with a microbrew
or a wheel of Jim Beam.

Sometimes they'll take you by the wrist
into the bathrooms;
sometimes they'll take your drink
when you're not looking
and smile when you catch them
with it on their lips.

But that smile is good even,
on par with a supernova
in its ability to crush
and make beautiful.


But most of the time,
they stand around
outside Casbah
and Motorco
--if they're bougie
it'll be West End--
in the middle of the night
under the porch of the sky
looking out with amber
slitted eyes
like cats,
their legs twitching thoughtfully
as they wait for cabs
and pick at the night.

Hometown girls
are ****/beautiful
because they'll watch your every move
from the gallery
out of empathy,
knowing they've been that ***** before,
knowing they've been that lonely,
knowing they just want to get drunk
and want to be around randoms
that aren't so random.
R B M Oct 2019
The other night, dear, as I lay sleeping
I dreamed I held you in my arms
But when I awoke, dear, I was mistaken
And I hung my head and I cried

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine.
The brightest star of my life,
The light of my day,
The cause of the tingling warmth in my heart.
The only smile I search for in a crowded room,
The only voice I listen to when you’re up on the stage,
The only person I miss when I’m feeling lonely.

I'll always love you and make you happy
If you will only say the same
But if you leave me to love another
You'll regret it all some day

You make me happy when skies are grey.
When I’m down in the dumps,
When I’m feeling like no one loves me,
When I’m hating myself,
Your arms around me are what I want to feel,
Your smile is what I wish to see,
Your sweet words are what I want to hear.

You told me once, dear, you really loved me
And no one else could come between
But now you've left me and love another
You have shattered all my dreams

You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you.
How much I need you,
How much I want you to be here with me,
How much I miss you when you’re away.
I hope you can see what you mean to me,
I hope you know I’ll be here for you like you are for me,
I hope you don’t change your mind.

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine
You make me happy when skies are grey
You'll never know, dear, how much I love you
Please don't take my sunshine away

Please don’t take my sunshine away.
There are many things that would make you leave,
There are many things that could dim your light,
There are many things that could cause a supernova.
Please don’t take my sunshine away,
Please don’t take my sunshine away,
Please don’t take my sunshine away.
Jimmie Davis' You Are My Sunshine lyric.
Black Rose Dec 2015
Every night I look up in the sky
pointing out the brightest stars
finding constellations
thinking about us
can we also create something special like the stars had connected to create wonderful constellations

It pains me thinking that he is one of the brightest stars while I belong to the tiny ones scattered around him
having no chance of being seen by him

I tried to fire myself up
created a supernova out of me
but instead of his attention that I've been longing for
all I got was strained stares of those around me
tired of watching me trying so hard when everyone knows forever he and I are not meant for each other

Who knows?
I argued, not wanting to believe that the chance that I got for him to notice me is only larger than the size of an atom, close to nothing.

I thought I was dauntless by being a supernova, but it's too late to realize that I was just another fool chasing someone so impossible o reach.

— The End —