"terran" poems
Just when we thought
this place couldn't get
any
more
depressing,
a detriment of inadequacy ensues,
and the following hour is spent
beneath a paled,
frosted-blue canvas,
atop a frigid construct
of tether, and steel.
BUT!
As quickly as the dystrophy settled
within minds scarcely caressed
by hallowed slumber,
a frail,
yet,
intensifying light
erupts from the faded line
that separates reality
from ethereality.
As this newly self-empowered
hero of the day
ceases the boundless tundra overhead
with a golden fluorescence
of warmth,
and rapture,
still,
ever-trifling is the southern counterpart.
HARK!
From out of the myriad sheets
of thundercloud gray,
laced with veins of majestic purple,
and glazed with the ensemble
of over-ripened peaches
that blanket the northern skies
of this dawning day
spawns a duet of our mothers'
most
sacred
creation.
HOW MAGNIFICENT!
This spectrum couplet
that champions the veil,
extruding their way out
from the darkest,
most steadfast regions
of our Terran celestial.
Betwixt these valours,
who stand
as beacons of glory
in these most
disparaging of times,
dance a flock
of little
black and white birds,
unveiling to our starving eyes,
ever so eager to feast-
their autumn courtship that,
in its own wonderment,
was that of a
silent
symphony.
LO!
For many a fort night,
we have gazed upon naught
but soot-black sand,
sun-bleached dirt,
and endless foliage,
who's lives have been bled dry
long before even our first wave achieved
boots on ground.
And even as the sun rose higher,
relieving the quietus night
to nothing
but a faded memoir,
so, too,
these masters of vibrancy
shall fade.
BUT!
Even in their last moments of glory,
they triumphed as heralds,
mutely evoking a message
that said:
*'Even at our final breaths,
we shall stand as strong as we did
when She first employed us
into Her heavens.
And until we are completely vanquished,
never; never shall we falter.'*
May 30, 2014
May 30, 2014 at 10:26 PM UTC
Famed to have brought light into being, but
dark, dark you are my friend, passing
through me effortlessly, though I know
there is an interaction: week, very week.
Deep there buried somewhere in my soul
was a throb heard, when every miracle
that forms the chain of my life surfaces:
and I've been searching for you. I thought
you were beyond oceans, where sky meets,
until my ship turned around at the horizon;
I looked for you in the womb of terran vaults
and then in the planets and the stars,
and you have been collapsing fields and
manifesting timelines so I proposer, meanwhile.
You are not what I worshipped in image and
then smashed it and sought in formless word.
Every time I grasp you, you vanish, retreat,
bubble-being, who knows what exists beyond
this expanse we inhabit, these membranes
and curled up manifolds, where in the knots
I'm still searching; But before even this unfolds
in full, I discover, it is all dark, darkness
that holds these tiny galaxies of light in its
densest folds; Magicienne, wave your wand,
let us know beyond the dark and the illuminated,
let us in, into the secret chamber of kinship.
Apr 22, 2015
Apr 22, 2015 at 6:08 PM UTC
insects sing alive the night
jubilation terran om
*of future past there is no note...
a present cadence rolling on*
***come seasons silence my refrain
to sing no song of then
jubilation terran om***
Aug 27, 2013
Aug 27, 2013 at 11:34 PM UTC
A Terran, a Musician, and a Human walk into a bar and begin to converse in their unique animated fashions. The Terran told colorful, heavily gestured stories of just how vast, vivid, and desolate, the world can be with adventurous direction and a little bit of luck. The Musician listened intently and shared personal records of revolving themes and repetitive transcendence. For Musician, it is simply a twist of perspective. Then followed a volley of indiscriminate compliments between Human and Terran as Musician earned a few donations of an open microphone on this Friday afternoon. When Musician returned with concerns of quality and substance, the enlightened friends had both agreed that the rehearsal was finely tuned, impeccable, even.
Shy and humming, Human was slightly disconcerting to their boisterous Terran and had to ask about those interests and talents that had not been discussed yet. Human's eyes froze in small expansion though Musician concurred, compliments are fine but withholding one's self is an insult and a crime to all three beings in such a warmed gathering. Human began with a facile face, then addled, as if a place to start had muddied underneath solid progressive counterparts. At last, resolve returned with a solution to try at the open microphone first, mayhaps that would clear the meek performer's mind. The invoked spirit of clarity overflowed beyond the stage as a silver silence engulfed the barroom. Human's history was bursting of sky sharing resonant respiration once the song was sung from a place more real than truth.
Jan 11, 2013
Jan 11, 2013 at 6:19 PM UTC
Ang TED sa puso ko ay parang Lireo ng Encantadia
Bughaw ang simbolong kulay nila
Narito ang mga Sanggre o dugong bughaw ng Encapsudia
Danaya/Dela Cruz, Amihan/Arriola, Pirena/Penson, Alena/Araneta
Ang TED sa puso ko ay parang Terran sa Starcraft na laro
Bughaw ang sagisag na kulay ng mga ito
Nais nila ang pangunguna at pamumuno
Nasa dugo ng lahing tao – katangian ng pagiging ****
Ang TED sa puso ko ang nagturo sa akin
Kung paano ang pagiging **** ay tangkilikin at mahalin
Mag-aaral higit sa lahat ang dapat unahin
Responsibilidad sa klase ang dapat atupagin
Ang TED sa puso ko ay parang Terran at Lireo
Dito ko nadama ang pangarap kong totoo
Ang maging tao na makaguro, ang maging **** na makatao
Salamat sa mga taga-TED na naging bahagi ng buhay ko!
-10/23/2017
(Dumarao)
*a tribute to TED of CapSU-Dumarao
Sep 28, 2019
Sep 28, 2019 at 10:06 PM UTC
That terran voice
Has little weight,
Is slow and late;
But voice sooner
Trade all feature,
It had a teacher
And is other.
That like a forest
Keeps all time,
If nighttime isn't
The death of that;
For time is miles
But the people's struggles,
Where goblin has lurked
Eager and deadly.
If that is never
A goblin's measure
Nor, began that;
Is goblin at rest
But when it drift
Thought shall not near
The oldness there,
And oddness steal
Her ceaseless shake.
Feb 24, 2014
Feb 24, 2014 at 1:57 AM UTC
Lonely god
Sailing in your blue ship
Come and take a rest
Put your feet up for a moment
Grab some tea, and a banana
Then of course, dash away from this peace
Back into your wild exhilarating fray
Lonely man
Why all the adrenaline?
I think you fight and adventure thus
To escape your loneliness and sadness
The adrenaline rush just exists to distract
I think you search and wander
To gain vengeance on wicked evildoers
Because they stole your family and
Wrenched your hearts apart
But now picking up the fallen pieces
Pasting them back together
I think they gave you a motive, a purpose
And some extra strength
Your eyes burn with a fire
Irresistable to all
And fatal to some
But usually just a playful, longing spark
Only wanting the best for those you love
And trying your darndest
As you sail with no direction
But the ebb and flow of the tide
On the ocean of pain and trouble
Dec 13, 2012
Dec 13, 2012 at 10:16 PM UTC
Time loops beneath my ankles.
35 minutes of being ten minutes early
has become a less than desirable pattern as of late
From the sidewalk I saw a bird forced to walk
by one wing’s drooping.
Stumbling along the asphalt, feather tips cocked in broken salute
and was filled with sadness of an incredible immensity.
My counselor,
Terran,
she was like that.
She had cancer living in her neck.
The immensity of which was incredible
When the doctors came to take it,
to break her into something worth living for,
part of her face left too.
She took to wearing scarves, bunched high on the right side.
Once she let me place my hand beneath the scarf. Her eyes
fixed on the brown bookshelf by the door,
I marveled at the nothingness.
Mar 31, 2016
Mar 31, 2016 at 6:15 AM UTC
The congressman from Mars whose many gaffes
Led to his drop in ratings at the poll,
And whose awful decisions marred his role,
Had found his explanation drowned in laughs.
And following his footsteps and his paths
The congressman from Venus bared his soul,
Explained why his career has borne its toll,
By drawing on his skin some stats and graphs.
Because I'm green, the Martian dared to tell
Constituents, that's why I'm hated so!
Because I'm purple, the Venusian cried
Unto an Earth whose races blended well
To shades of black, and who have learned to know
That gaffes behind a color can not hide.
(C)2014, Christos Rigakos
Apr 14, 2014
Apr 14, 2014 at 9:19 PM UTC
The Terran Odor of the poplar
The spicy aromas of pine and cypress
The deep mist of quebracho
The Splendid peppers
of the ñire
Fragrances of me fires
Jun 16, 2019
Jun 16, 2019 at 8:09 PM UTC