Vomit Poetry Challenge [Day 5]: bloody thumb

30-Day Vomit Poetry Challenge: Day 5. No stops, no deletes, no edits–just write and keep writing. Publish as it is.

a bloody thumb beneath
a blood-red moon
crimson energies hum with poignancy
slowly. fates are changing
souls realign
stars crash and burn like exploding wishes
what would be the cosmic interpretation
of a daring day, daunting, defiance
what would be the dreary meager answer
lame like mortality

Advertisements

Nezha

The wheels of flame sear through
the sky that is blue; you appear
before me, the head of a dragon-serpent
with golden starlit eyes alive on your armour,
you raise the spear tipped with divine fire,
an ever-burning dance

“Know me,” you say, but I know not your voice;
I piece your existence together with memory and reverence,
yet I do not know you
I recognize your light from the darkness I have known,
yet I do not know you

I learned your face behind a trail of incense,
your legends and your powers through a passing of tales,
your answers with two crescent-moons made of wood
that is the You that I know,
and that is the You I do not know

perhaps I cannot gaze upon profundity
and expect to see its depth,
perhaps I cannot approach infinity
with a reality it does not belong to

“Who are you?” I ask–who are You, are you an entity with a name,
a god wrapped in glorious armour and cosmic justice,
a face of this everchanging universe?
“Know me,” you say, as I gaze into your eyes,
your shape and form so far away in the starry heavens–

And I reach for you, and ask for your Name

The Universe Speaks

At last, the Universe speaks to me;
I question, as it speaks true, as it speaks through,
the metaphors congregate in a golden spiral;
my spirit expands and folds, expands and folds,
caught in this eternal cosmic heartbeat;
this language has no grammar, no punctuation,
yet I understand every single word:
they merge as they emerge,
becoming one with my existence,
my self exalted in spiritual alchemy:
slowly, I breathe–
slowly, I am one with the Universe

Planeterium

our existence is but a
tiny temporal dust
floating in the river of time
in which stars have breathed
their first and their last;

we belong to a single heartbeat
an endless cosmic dream
that we attempt to measure
with lifetimes—and we fail
for it is a dream too vast,
and too deep to be real

so it is decided

so it is decided
when the stars realign
themselves and
the galaxies rearrange
through spontaneous
expulsion: that
is the day I will forgive
you, that is the day
I will love you again;
until then, keep
trying.

if stars are just stars

6841443637_86ff409372_b
if stars are just stars
unmapped by constellations,
mythology, and astronomers
do they weave their own stories
and their own destinies?
do they live and die silence?
as they shine
without a name, without history
are they still stars
or are they eyes
forever opening and closing
opening and closing
opening
and
closing

starry-eyed

Starry Eyes

Inspired by Warm Bodies by Isaac Marion

your face, the nape
of your neck as you look
over your shoulder,
and your smile, a soft,
glorious wonder

in silence I behold you
as light ripples through your hair
a river of winking stars
and in your eyes shines
the entire universe