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Nat Lipstadt Mar 23
Tessellation & Interstices


”A tessellation or tiling is the covering of a surface,
often a plane, using one or more geometric shapes,
called tiles, with no overlaps and no gaps…In mathematics, tessellation can be generalized to higher dimensions and a variety of geometries.”


the insistent need to be distinguished
means many are not,  
indeed,
this hunger
to be an influencer
and never just an influencé.

creeply creates a linear surface,
a flooring to be trod upon,
a tessellated plane,
were we each fit in
right-tight juxtaposition
and we are noticeable for our
uniformity and

the scuff marks of having been trod upon,
well used.

it is in the chips of irregularities,
the overlaps and the gaps
where we touch and connect
with our individual Ah Ha’s,
where our Venn Diagram Lives
intersect, infect, interfere, inject,
in the tiny
interstices
tween us,
the jagged, irritatingly edgy
rubbings
that the friction of creativity
is comedically inseminated.

I love a good tense sweat,
that invasive, deep boring burring,
that demands
instant creative solutions lest the angst of
an unwritten-in-the-moment-poem
is even more annoying,
before it is annoyingly,
befogged, lost forever.

that is why with old age,
fearsome fast
short term memory loss,
some turn to the speedy freedom of
free verse,
unconstrained by socks
and well fitting shoes,
and the slip on sneakers
of rhyming,
so insistent on perfection,
that the
burr is absorbed,
the irritant rubbing is creamed away,
and that loss of
a pouring of the soul’s ******* of
Done!
is
our exclamatory mutual curse
saturday sabbath
march 2
2034
9:50am
jonchius Sep 2015
checking potent aftershock
observing seismic anniversary
checking another tremor
resuming constrained writing

annexing hidebound constituents
hugging incoming eschatologies
fighting pervasive insomnia
battling invasive fatigue

damning incompetent fools
awaiting furtive escape
abandoning corporate wasteland
summoning celestial syzygy

detesting spaghetti code
protruding riparian dolphin
establishing unilinear escritoire
glowing cybernetic cynosure

avoiding eternal invisibility
supporting valued customer
performing lexical gymnastics
scrooping notification sounds

restoring usual happiness
glorifying darkwave fanfares
collapsing old relationships
raising ambient awareness

defining wolf people
propagating yesteryear's spectre
achieving hemispheric virality
testing weekend legerity
installing iron curtain

propagating today's spectre

developing niche audiences
transmitting abstract propaganda
disappearing thought experiments
overusing various condiments

double-checking hyper-real emotions
rubbernecking celestial explosions
observing splendid holiday
exploding volcano day

erupting bucolic mountain
disrupting hectic shouting
perfecting suggestive triptychs
checking festive pyrotechnics

drifting across multiverse
regifting glossy paperwork
writing six-lined hexagrams
liking two-toned instagrams

recalling pygmalion sculptures
brawling tatterdemalion cultures
"rambling corporate shill
rattling rapid prosody"
"battling hamburger hill
ambling hundredth library"
"sensing ideological schism
pending guttural neologism"

glowing verdant background
foreshadowing palmyra takedown
developing geopolitical mess
geminating quasi-couplet stress

"hugging cultural diversity
shrugging irrational adversity"

distancing spooky raindrops
avoiding potential burnout
implementing lexical databank
approaching crash-scene sudser

becoming increasingly selective
escaping tyrannical bureaucracy
perpetuating cut-throat capitalism
purchasing contrived happiness
incorporating chance elements
relaxing rigid structures
reheating your retweet

holding theoretical design
smiling beach life
scrutinizing eternal simulation
rushing artificial apothegm
annexing facetious document
freaking creepy centipedes

writing neural structure
congratulating yestreen's warriors
encouraging seatbelt usage
boosting abstract setting
sensing frivolous ochlocracy

keeping hypothetical metropolis
blurring metaphorical æsthetic
scrutinizing computational festival
memorializing towel day

raising six-fingered paw
eternizing fragment schedule
liking subtextual repository
quoting quintessential quidnunc

finding ideological style
disregarding their slovenliness
planning spatial factoid
spinning glacial ellipsoids

enjoying eternal spreadsheet
deleting repetitive tweet
awaiting festival lineup
gainsaying unethical startups

observing turgid experiment
contemplating conniving contrivances
enjoying dynamic project
dropping two-toned simulation
finding harmonic space
finalizing warring cavaliers

detecting enigmatic apathy
retrieving potential exchange
meddling middling muddling
baking hypnagogic pizza

spinning galactic dinosaur
building trans-pacific partnership
finishing theoretical mission
giggling agog googlers

crashing atypical tessellation
cherishing precious hexagons
proliferating western lottery
cretaceousing funkaholic skeletor

blurring turgid gallery
cancelling tsunami warnings
extemporizing incoherent neologisms
transmitting harmonic rave

gliding black hawks
hiding quacked ducks
archiving animated light
googling moonbow imagery

ignoring relatable messages
observing unfinished world
generating optional content
continuing exponential growth
May 2015
Dawn Treader Dec 2016
Jaggedly pieced together
We're fragmented beautifully
Oddly, this love fits
my attempt at a  10 word poem. Love can work if you work out the angles.
Connor Reid Sep 2014
Drip yourself into a cup
Fill up your body with antiquity
Let the collagen insist
An allegory of Capricorn
Memories crystallised
Settled in
Forevers harvest
Insensitive
Misconstrued chemical
Collective symmetry's sin
A condition, livid
Fleeting in Human imagery
Ships break
Loop our tongued
Hands, tossed in Dramamine
Whittled in a succession of malleable fashion
Talent spilled spread in supper
Collate our atrophy
And drink from baroness
Flavours tarnished
Super-collider
Blood soaked in Gematria
A garden of totality
High brow comparison
Entitled in your vacuous stigma
Forever burning
In the lesser key of Solomon
28 daemon
Tessellation in trigonometry
Temperance towards an infinite
Champion of mind, complex
Gregory Dun Aer Apr 2017
Crescent orb radiates its crystalline sight,
languid lips coalesce like a tessellation,
the vexing vines wilder the incandescent-
glimmer but the burning impression remains.
Celestial bodies affixes a soliloquy amongst-
a halcyon tongue that revelate a rhapsodic-
episode.

Quiescent ambience rings a plethora of-
sentiments stinging on the mellifluous
lullaby. The lithe wildflower murmurs-
the euphonious recital of a sonnet that-
is unacquainted to the mind.
Luminous assemblies of fireflies retire-
behind the myriad of evergreen forest
as the insouciance wildflower approach.

Precocious primrose locked from the
scorching sensation of a wildflower
exhibited a lassitude facade like a -
waning lantern fiery on its final residues.
In the distant a wildflower and in
the presence, an idyllic primrose:
so scarce and so strange.
Nigel Morgan Feb 2013
Prince Niou had removed himself from Kaoru’s company and the warmth of the wood-burning stove. Under the shelter of the steep karawa eaves he stood to watch the snow, to watch it fall, fall relentlessly, relentlessly. But for the biting cold he might have been watching the blossoms fall and scatter, those intricate, delicate flowers that, as you looked up at them in the trees, were in tessellation with the sky. It was Kisaragi (late February) when winter shows little sign that spring might appear. So now the time of deep snows in the mountain fastness where Kaoru’s family estates straddled part of the necessary journey from Edo to Kyoto.
 
The snowfall mesmerized Niou. It held such a purity of disordered motion, He stretched out his arm to feel the soft touch of the flakes on his embroidered sleeve. He imagined Ukifune’s touch would be like that of this falling snow, a pattering of fingers, a sweep of her long, long hair. She, Kaoru’s mistress, had left earlier in the afternoon to journey safely across the mountain passes to her lakeside home before the heavy snow fall set in. He had been close witness to Kaoru’s passion for this delicate flower picked from across the mountains to grace his country house his wife would never visit in winter. And now Prince Niou had, in just two days of polite proximity, lost his heart and all reason to this girl-woman, this woman-girl. She seemed beyond conventional description such was her beauty and her graceful manner. When her eyes rose to his he lost the composure he knew his station demanded. But Kaoru in his own infatuation and glowing with the pleasuring he and Ukifune enjoyed seemed oblivious to the Prince’s covert gaze.
 
This evening Kaoru had already drunk more than was sensible. But darkness was drawing in, and the duties, what little he allowed himself, were over for the day, except to entertain his eminent friend. He had allowed himself to be carefully boastful of Ukifune’s charms and beauty. His words made frequent veiled suggestions of their moments of pleasure together in this winter world of silence where lovers would part the screens and stand folded in each other’s arms to witness the white world of snowfall decorate the mountain landscape.
 
Prince Niou had already decided that as his friend fell into stupor then sleep, and that would be soon, he would set out across the snows to seek Ukifune’s path, to capture her for himself, to declare his love and passion. As she left he had passed a note to her maid telling her not to be surprised by a night-time visitation. He knew that a journey in falling snow would take many hours and it would probably be dawn before he could approach her mountain retreat, a small house by a lake. There, it seemed, she withdrew from the complexities of court life to find the peace and balance necessary to sustain her beauty. She had described the joy of witnessing the intricate twilights and blood red dawns of winter, of watching the birds rise from and return to the oft-frozen lake. She and her maid would drift idly in her boat watching the black, dense water lap too and fro, until the cold required a return to warmth and comfort.
 
It was to be a hard journey. Niou, though prepared with stout boots, an extra cloak and shawl, knew he would flounder into drifts along way. Only his long staff would save him from ignominy. His saw his path blessed by the light of a half moon and together with a myriad of stars arching across the heavens, he would triumph. He had borrowed items of Kaoru’s clothing, his hat and staff, his bag and winter cloak. To all intents and purposes as he approached Ukifune’s home he would appear as his soon to be cuckolded friend. His thoughts remained fixed on  Ukifune. He longed for the moment when she would raise her eyes to him from her pillow, in surprise, in wonder he hoped. He considered how his cold body would join with her warm body in the infinite caress of love’s first passionate meeting. He would then carry her wrapped in her bed coverings to her boat and, having secured her comfort, pole out into the lake and there join with her as the moon looked down from the dawn sky.
 
Later they would exchange poems:
 
Niou
​Snow upon hill, ice along frozen rivers:
​​There for you I trod, yet for all that never lost
​​The way to be lost in you.

 
Ukifune​
*Quicker than the snow, swirling down at last
​​To lie by a frozen lake, I think I shall
​​Melt away while aloft yet in mid sky.
rufus Aug 2014
Embellish my life with sweetness
Fill my desires with gladness
Heighten my hopes like soaring birds
And fit my poems with fancy words
THE ONLY ****** THING I LEARNED ABOUT GEOMETRY
Joshua Haines Jun 2014
She said people were seasons,
and when I first met her, I couldn't agree more.  
After getting to know her, I wished that I didn't.
Her ex-lovers were Winter, and her eyes were a shade of Spring.
I could see the vulnerability of a car crash
swimming in each fountain trapped behind her emeralds.
She was beautiful in the way that could cause suicides,
and fix spider-webbed windshields after each collision of,
“Are you okay,” and, “I’m fine; I promise.”

Every story was Winter, and she was always left alone in the snow.
Mauve lips mouthed words that silently whispered,
"When is this too much? When are you going to leave?"

People are patterns,
and all she knew was the tessellation of temporary love and permanent loss.
Her hands trembled as she looked down.
She was in transit; moving after each hope of home fell apart.
And I wanted to kiss her like the world was falling apart.
Star Gazer Jun 2016
The word love was new to me
It was a strange concept
One I only ever saw on set.
Hollywood glamourised the word
Made peacocks out of normal birds
and taught that love always works.
There isn't a single soul mate,
There is no real workings of fate,
It takes trust, effort and patience.

I followed love, expecting a film,
I became a bit of a bitter bird,
but it was thanks to you,
that I realised, it only takes love
for love to work.
Aspirations ,prayers,wishes and more,
When it is right ,it's definitely right!
The universe conspires to create miracles and one such miracle is you !

The smell of a familiar me ,connected with cords ,cut but uncut long after they are only to hold you in my arms now connected through heartbeats and love growing strong.

The tiny , soft fingers bound around tightly ,
The twinkle seen through half closed eyes.
Tender skin as soft as snow , whats
there to ask for more ?
A bundle of joy and happiness came fore !
So they say when the time is right , it of course is !

In my hearts core I knew long before,
God choose to give me the best .
Thee! extraordinary from the rest .
A tessellation of wishes came to surface in a matter of time and test .

Your addition to my life brought in a sense of peace ,pride and profoundness.
Rearing to take on the world gearing to accept responsibility.
Surviving every obstacle , a Lioness closely guards and protects her cub , to see him grow into thee "King of the Jungle "


©Mrunalini.D.Nimbalkar
This one was written for my son on one of his birthday !!
LC Apr 2021
he glued down a blue, square tile
to the bare, boring floor.
my purple triangle moved in
right next to the square
like it was meant to be there.
our hands kept the tiles in place,
then we took a step back,
and his arms surrounded me.
we did this every day
until the pattern became
our solid foundation.
#escapril day 8!
jonchius Sep 2015
resuming textual trip
testing experimental procedures
visualizing model tsunami
augmenting facetious environment
catching abstract architecture
noticing rhythmic exchange
projecting subtextual database
airhorning reggae royalty
adding atypical party
resolving twitter question
noticing emotional mission
awaiting emotional dialect
installing metaphorical experiment
intensifying animated trip
displaying dynamic victory
programming abstract development
releasing emotional exchange
deriving fata morgana
glorifying referential sequence
intensifying facetious map
noticing harmonic trip
observing radical ratio
compiling nomadic message
predating google rebranding
reticulating facetious panda
using hyperreal feedback
exploring virtual panda
speculating graphic gallery
throwing mundane exception
targeting graphic experiment
replenishing emotional trap
localizing asemic animal
dropping rhythmic trip
propagating immortal experiment
displaying lowercase database
invading orange bubbles
crashing animated trip
running conceptual topography
remembering collapsed buildings
crashing hyperreal coverage
propagating hyperreal stipulation
finishing western library
envisioning neon tessellation
reciprocating network likes
processing animated device
releasing haptic quality
examining building seven
awaiting rhapsodical ratio
sampling death sauce
sensing lowercase clone
examining symbolic tour
processing potential development
encapsulating spatial lottery
displaying digital paragraph
reticulating theoretical source
perpetuating western paragraph
transmitting monochromatic structure
anticipating ambient quality
transmitting asemic environment
intensifying atomic quality
remastering history poem
keeping future light
hypothesizing eternal game
using future library
rearranging masonic language
transmitting masonic development
continuing ceremonial ritual
questioning party's legitimacy
deferring western coverage
finishing asemic hypertext
mollifying ostentatious presence
synthesizing allegorical icon
forming categorical unions
sketching app wireframe
programming immortal repository
second week of September 2015
Coop Lee Aug 2015
[sweet pungent synthesis]
always with dank hysterical women demonstrating the distilled liquid elixir of their many years in isolation.
they are the nitrogen-rich followers of an ultraviolet shrine, such is
a photosynthetic life-form, reacting/enacting/enhancing.
they reach for holes in the moon &
on four-legged fumes carbonize seeds into sons and daughters. birth/
life.
all flowers ache forth to display color and/or
their varietals of hairy oil content.
to dip psychotropics, thus the worship of brain frequency and light.
fresh progress,
the sugar crystal compounds impacting, intact, and swollen.
trichomes, like huddled little masses of grandbabies bowed upon the ridge.
she drips
in dance and derives her form from properties plucked by time,
by moms, and pops.
to discover is to find purity in a moment.
pure travel/ pure
death.
this growing force,
this apparition of sound within me. organics.
organisms bound by great beauty and failure.
sense not the vivid panic, or the shock of last black, but hold true
to an inner joyous/outer motionous, tessellation that is, this
fluttering of us.
us suit of hearts.
suit of leaves.
the fusion of two bodies far beyond substantial pressure.
ryn Jun 2022
.
          These thoughts
are a haphazard
                 tessellation
of moments,
         sounds
           and scents -

  caught in a
      persistent loop…

         Such it is,
   that they herald
       no known beginning,
and yield
     no foreseeable end.


.
Shivani Lalan Sep 2016
We've been this way for a very long time, we've been together for more time than you can imagine. Little weary chains link our minds, looping in and out and up and down. We're this tangled mess of synced thoughts and synced dreams, and sinking syllables. 

Every sigh that you let slip from your tired lips is an indication of my exhaustion, because you and I, we lie in comfortable tessellation.

You and I, we've been through magical realism, and the romantics, and the surrealists, the grammar nazis and the pretenders.

You and I, we've etched each other in shifting sands, in clumsy waves.

You and I, we know each other's movements across a blank sheet of paper.

You waltz onto empty pages with constellations for punctuation. Screens may read verbose sacrifices to the patron saint of inspiration, but you, you don't stop or pause to check for abbreviation.

You take half hearted syllables and turn them into poetic nations, you build monuments to love but you neglect infatuation.

You try to touch every single figment of my overactive imagination but then you shuffle away so as not to cause complete annihilation.

You speak lucid languages in times of complete inebriation and you continue this slurred speech against all drunk invitations.

You try to write me down in moments of utter desperation but the grip of your words falter as I run to my wild desolation. 

You and I, we've run across clouds, left our footprints in the wake of comets.

You and I, we've sailed all the seas of consciousness, those that can be fathomed, and otherwise.

Slowly, your step exceeded mine, and your stride was longer, so I struggled to keep time. Slowly, I felt our tangles unwind. Slowly, our roots straightened out in a single line and you crossed it.
You crossed it.

Un Saut dans le vide, a leap into the dark, and you were up, up and away. I wanted to trap you in cunning similes, but you were running as fast as the wind.

Little weary chains that linked our minds now struggle at the seams, tiny links begin to
unlink,
unlink,
unlink.

one
by
one
by
one.
Performed this at Blind poetry edition three and messed up royally.
Thanks prach and aru, y'all are **** nice.
@aru thanks for this.
Nigel Morgan Jan 2013
It had been snowing all night
light slight white
almost invisible flakes
falling on the garden below

While you slept I lay awake
between startling dreams
adventures (with my children)
amongst pinnacled peaks

Should sleep in an unfamiliar room
so effect the unconscious mind?
Here you became a young adult
‘I lost my virginity’ (you said)
‘and it was messy’

I didn’t want to know this
but told you how it was
for me a beach at night
in Devon Tarka country

And so a tracery
emerges from the past
It emanates it draws together
intersects conjoins segments
a tessellation  map-rich

by and through and which
(bathed in the snow-light
of an uncurtained morning)
together we move now too and fro
in this still-experimental  passion
Danielle Bluejay Mar 2013
Our bodies together,
Perfect patterns in the dark of the night
The beauty of our tessellation
Was solely known by us
The only sound:
Two heartbeats underneath
Heavy breathing
Drowning out
The voices screaming
In my head
H Zul Jun 2015
In aloneness
all in oneness
thoughts trickle
never end
but never mend
these scars

The gravitas
weight of words
push and piston
beating heart
the rise and fall
of chests

Cold and candour
truths in clamour
cresting waves
the callous pull
in quiet calm
the moon

And so I gaze
in silent praise
the constellations
glinting stars
in tessellation
your eyes

As I became
so garrulous
and perilous
chit and chatter
careless talk
to self

While I beheld
the universe
reflected
in reverse
your eyes
the skies
Parashar Jun 2012
I find myself, reeling, once more,
Slipping slowly, surely, into silent suffocation,
The soft edges of my skin, and I  succumb
like the sun, plunging perilously into the sea
At the end of another day, fraught with regal uncertainties.

I find myself, breathing, once more,
heaving heavily at the hollowness
Of my hapless, hungry heart..
Searching for traces of the treachery
that has drowned me in this distasteful sorrow,

I find myself, bleeding, once more,
bleeding unabashedly at the guilt,
that I bear in my melancholic soul,
tenuous tears of tessellation,
sink slowly, like the sun, into the soft edges of my skin

I find myself, numb, once more,
A numbness taking over, nefariously negating
the lasting love for light,
that I once bore deep within my self.
And I cannot find myself anymore...
craig apogee Sep 2015
patience and desire
eyes on the prize
even though it seemed lost
true gold lies deep in the glow of those hazel eyes

a tale that threatened with tears
and the dread of heartfelt slips
veers towards the tessellation of your body
head-to-toe with my lips

overwhelmed by fears of turbo-charged love
and at which stops this train may be calling
yet trepidation is drowned by exhilaration
as this new adventure is dawning

hips on hips and longful gazes
hearts singing unheard notes
your hand in mine, side by side
we sail forth on our choice of cupid's boats
Youdont Needthis Jan 2017
Deep in wood’s twig embrace
She lies beneath the leaf tessellation
Her hollow skull and hollow chest are friends with the burning winds
She is hallowed in her sloping waist
With child

She is mother bony
Woman with skinless face
She is grinless
For her jaw was stolen in ages past
Yet she is blessed with child
Her middle is heavy with boundless boy

A boy fated
To be *******
Emperor
Tyrant
King
To be lord of the shattered lands and even their scattered men
Destined to be crowned in fragments of skulls and silky fabric reds
He shall mate with fire
Be father of arson spawn
His face will be carved in Mammon’s silver toys

He will never be forgotten by any of history’s tedious scribes
Yet first he must be born

Now the winds are chanting
They push at her pudgy waist
They are chanting for the birth of the emperor ******* king
They desire the tyrant
They are the slaves of God
For they are catalysts that mold the shapes of futures’ lords
They will sing triumphant
When he is pushed through dusty hips
They will congratulate their oldest and most silent friend  

He is birthed with great force
The spit of cadaverous womb
Crying shrieks in the forest
No one living to clean him

By spirits’ force he is taught
To eat the last of mother’s skin
To grow to be the friend of the whispering burning winds

He shall grow into great beast
With strength to wield the lance
He will enter the kingdoms of men
Appearing as a wild God

While he is shaping his role
His mother will often laugh
Ever since he left her
Her body was never again the same
Tempting wishes piling under
a steaming white bath towel
hot wet pure
smothering a body
that's stretched into
an Escher tessellation
melting the ground you walk upon
to wax
and you sink
into deep breaths
demons dissolved
in the exhalation
red Aug 2018
a vast orange fissure opens in the face of the earth.
the sky—a mirage of blue and orange—portends darkness.
the canyon, in its grandeur, is nothing more than
a tessellation of orange and black from shadows of unknown.

a measly being stands alone, right by a hungry cliff.
clueless, you are accompanied by aimless tumbleweeds.
they seem to be running away from something.
shouldn't you run away from whatever it is, too?

the wind sweeps the barren landscape, devoid of life.
the sun kisses vivid orange rocks and dirt one last time.
you shout to the seemingly-endless expanse of orange,
but you only hear the burning souls shouting in return.

the darkness slowly envelops your field of vision.
whatever is chasing you is now inching by, bit by bit.
the dusk is fast approaching, but you have nowhere to hide
                             ...and so you run, but the cliff is a dead end.
Nyaituga Apr 2021
grow, bloom, wither and die
die, grow, bloom and wither
wither, die, grow and bloom
bloom, wither, die and grow
Escapril - Day 8
TheDenouement Aug 2014
Amber conduit seeps through the glaring abysm in haste,
smothered by tar-pulp of the midnight wound,
disheveled corona; bled into contrast,
dithering; thrusting scoria into the eve,
intoxicated by gasoline vapour; obsidian-wretch,
night crime pining of cheap indulgence; bottle-cap snare,
miasma fleet whining - lament,
pavement  tessellation; cosmopolitan unrest
J J Aug 2019
Along the grass,beneath the sky
The draconic sun vitrified
The lover figurines.
Flattening them
Adjacent to the surface,
Skin blent in crackly tessellation,
Deforming to fit the sphere,adhering to it's
Wondrous silence.
Frail limbs minute,heart's heavy as whole islands.

Is it not love embodied to lay defined as an image?
To be held as shatterless glass,reflecting it's deity's melting
In progress, 'neath the star that impelled a shelter,
The star that paved their meeting,that overlooked
Their life and death in a predetermined stasis,
The divinity that shimmered underfoot at all times,
The star that held all places of the earth in one.

The figurine lovers, faceless mannikinis
Sentenced to worship forever without a choice,
For prior love, for prior sins,
It matters not--they rot and twist as the Sun's play-dice.
Red heat burns at the extension of my
Fingertips, ashes stoked for a second night of
Inhalation.

Clandestine wetted brown sinks it’s teeth
Into my lips again, it’s breath in my lungs a smoky
Tessellation.

Warmth fills me for the first time in
Months, but a fire lit myself pales dimly in
Comparison

To yours. And yet, there is welcoming comfort in
Knowing that it’s closeness won’t flee the
Garrison

At the first sign of invading intimacy. The risk of
Cancer here is but longing brought to
Manifest.

Cut me with glances, burn with touch. Gods and devils
Both pine for the heart you’ve already
Possessed.
Cigars burn as hearts do sometimes.
Natasha Bame Sep 2015
Silent spell-bound worm.
Moth; Silk breath.
Cats cradle, filament entanglement.
Moonshine dissimulates thoughts footprint,
sophrosyne inception,
an incantation tessellation.
King Panda Jan 2019
you dream
one-thousand pounds
heavier than me—
a weaved, night sky
complete with brass buttons
and the bobby pin you forgot to take out
this

tessellation of Sunday letter
haunts me with your

lace and peach
as my fingers conduct

the bundle of flowers
to smoke
Nicholas Dec 2014
You are a tessellation
composed of repeating patterns,
a labyrinth of congruency,
and the last thing I need
is another right angle
to corner myself in.
I don't want any more
symmetry
or geometry,
I simply want to be freed
from this multicursal maze
you left me in.
steven Aug 2014
I hear San Francisco loud and clear—
The trolleys chug by in childish gulps,
The steep hills catch the wind's yelps,
The cramped stores house a profound history.
The city cries tears of joy so subtly
That people throw gentle smiles to the earth—
A postcard has never wept into such reality.

Like the shutter of a metal screen,
The sun descends in a tessellation as
Brilliant as the city who silently sleeps
With its grand eyes wide open—
A father and mother at last.
First experience in SF
Ella Sep 2017
Icicles on
                 my tessellation
                                            cast the
                                                           fly
    For
           play
                   adulation

                                just around the bend
            I 'll catch
                            his
          rainbow's
end
Away with the light of Summer,
Warmth of days will surely diminish.
Chromatic leaves sweep and swoop upon each other,
Blanketing quilt; a tessellation finish.

Sweet Autumn,
Spiced fair to account its name
Prodigious, and far from lame!
A season with truly original custom.

Permeating brilliance
Rich hues; copper and amber glow.
Day reaches sentence
Night begins to grow.

Oh sweet Autumn,

Subtle shrouding darkness,
Sorrowful rain precipitates.
Temperature of unique sharpness,
Flourishing life emancipates.

Welcome to furnishing Fall
Period of brisk enthrall.
Somber reign; transient existence
Harbinger of wintry persistence.

Bittersweet Autumn…
m j g Feb 2016
our lips' tessellation will repeat infinitely,
filling every void in our universe and our hearts.
there are about 1,025,110 words in the English language
and no combination of those words could ever accurately
reflect the way I feel for you.
when we kiss, I can feel the universe inside of me expanding
and I can feel stars being born inside my chest.
my ribcage becomes intertwined with flowers and vines
as they grow from the saddest parts of me.
our lifetimes will mean nothing compared to how long
our love will resonate after we have turned to dust.
distant planets with distant residents will sing of our story.
our imprint on the universe will be permanently etched in
every planet, every moon, every star, and every comet.

we are two microscopic pieces of the universe colliding,
but our impact will ring through time and space.

-m. j. g.
The Nameless Sep 2016
Why
Life is one long strain of chemical sequence
Compiled in a trans neurological equation
Beginning with alpha and ending in binary
Infinitesimal mathematical truth of
Eternal division, internal tessellation of
Fission, fissures, halving into countless universes
Of possibility till nothing is left but the remainder,
Parts of the whole,
Expanding, not imploding, slow death
Spherical dimensions beyond
Comprehension
Improbable inventions,
Explosive beginnings with no beginning,
Particles creating life, cellular,
Molecular, birth in light,
Death in darkness
Ideas formed from eternal truths,
Theorems not yet disproved.
Cycles of growth and decay,
Meaningless processing
Lead those capable of thought
To the forever struggle of
Why.

— The End —