Sorry I'm late.
Yes, I am the stars
and I burn uncontrollably
for you. Just you.
Countless cataclysmic deaths
and gravitational collapse;
this is the state of things.
I am a constant. Ever bright
and motionless. Hung like
silver fish on hooks. Gasping.
And dammit, won't you build
a hyperdrive, deflector shield,
life support and nav-com please?
Boldly go, long time ago.
Come discover me.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Paint Poem
Day Thirty I like a poem because it's not like a painting. Because I'll confidently cradle something stainless; hold the exceptio...
-
Day Nineteen In our village by the mountain, there lived A man p eople called The Wrestler , It was long ago, when my dad was a kid. He - ... -
Day Thirty I like a poem because it's not like a painting. Because I'll confidently cradle something stainless; hold the exceptio... -
Day Twenty Fantastic style designs on pottery from Hacilar. Image from Yakar 2005. The ancients believed That culture was Construed by pot...
Looks like you're off to a great start, poet!
ReplyDelete