Best Celestials Poems
Come, come and find me in my solitude
You shall see the hidden facet of this girl so prude
You shall see the real me
The wild side which I keep repressed for the sake of societal civility
Pray, the real me is sensual
Yes, the real me relishes the physical, the carnal
The real me thrives there where there is feminine freedom
Freedom, exquisite and intense without ever fearing of being fallen!
The real me is broken
Yes, the real me is lost in a mirage
A mirage which would never be put into usage
A mirage which caused my heart to be sunken
The real me, then, is empty
Devoid of emotions for the lot of humanity
Even if I do keep writing of philanthropic poetry
Why, the real me is void, too busy swirling in emotional misery
The real me is a half human girl with magical powers
The real me can fly, can turn into mythical creatures
The real me can even bid life to go as she does will
The real me is good in mystery and skilled as well!
The real me is so orthodox,
To the extent of celebrating purity
To the extent of denigrating the loss of morality
The real me hates that which causes one to be sinful!
The real me relishes the mystery of life
The real me thirsts for death
For the real me is bent on faith
Faith which promises of other realms, of that God, bold and handsome!
The real me yearns for more of mystical love
Yes, for love which can transgress Earth and the celestials
The real me is and shall remain a mystery for humankind
For eons and eons to come!
The real me, then, is a solo Queen
Soft, sensitive, gentle and at times, so mean
The real me can hurt and kill for that which I believe in
The real me, though, abides by Truth!
Why, the real me is who I am in my solitude
The real me is deep and wild, so different from the side so prude
That I do show to the world
Yes, the real me is always in ecstasy with my own being!
The real me is complex and complicated
The real me is two faced, two sided
The real me is hard to be demystified
The real me, though, is, for the sake of being!
Articles and stories over a thousand years with peers
Bastion of world and unearthly cheers
Chanting, litting the candles of history
Deepens on hearts of directory
Excerpts of penners' calls immortal
Fountain of inspirational walls eternal
Gallantry in thoughts etched on boards
Highlighted in neon lights, not swords
Inlet of brimming vividry
Jargon of poetic brevity
Kaolin of delicate crystals
Lining, circling in virtuous celestials
Might of dear penners
Nestled in curves and strokes of thinkers
Outpouring of hearts' endless desires
Pillars of writing bolstered with wires
Queues numbered in heralded battalion
Racing with olives in pavilion
Strength of ink on reams of poetry
Tingling ribs with humor and artistry
Up and down you sit and relax
Voices of souls never lax
Wonders in writing and imagery
Xylophone of tones, echoes in bravery
Your mighty pen tells it all
Zany or bold, each word says it all
Euphorias angelic rapture breathing it's raging
Celestials crashing waves in whirlpools of desires
Gliding atop her glistening moonlit beauty; cresting..
Oblivious unto the night and her stars which bathe us
As ecstasies flames; aneath a passioned kiss our flowing
Volcanic tides mingling love's rising betwixt, melting thighs.
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Euphorias angelic rapture breathing its raging
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Celestials crashing waves of whirlpools desires
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Gliding, atop her glistening moonlit beauty; my love
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Oblivious unto the night and the stars which bathe us...
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As ecstasy flames inside of our passioned kiss ~
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Flowings lava tides, now mingling amidst our burning thighs
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“In This, *Our Castle by The Sea”
“Dedicated * Unto The Heavenly Divine * Beauty of A Woman.”
The only stars that fall at night
Are those which cease to share their light
Their light was just for selfish sake
The glow they gave was bright but fake
And the constellations bear witness.
Stardust writes their epitaph
Across the changing cosmograph
Where only true and faithful stars
In chorus sing everlasting bars
As the constellations bear witness.
No proud or mediocre ear
Can discern what celestials hear
That cause their trumpets to blast the song
That tips the balance of stars gone wrong
Still the constellations bear witness.
RETA PRUITT
August 29, 2016
As a child, I had scribbled trifles on sea sands,
And often allowed them to get wiped by wave's hands;
Mansions and palaces on the sand I had built too,
When they got destroyed by waters I felt no woe.
This mania soon got altered to writing names,
Of persons accompanied playing many games;
The sand mansions too slowly shifted to sculptures,
And seemed in style and structure so voluptuous.
Thus with many scribbling and sculptures, times rolled on,
I got someone who looked like a girl-sculpture-swan;
We, together now, scribbled and sculptured pure love,
That as though would envy the celestials above...
The sea waves witnessed our wavy ways and wondered,
The weather too often changed its mood and thundered;
When our wedding bells aside sea happened to peal,
The sea and her creatures seemed brim filling with zeal...
The sea, then, our delightful honeymoon witnessed,
The shapes and moods of sculptures with feelings got mixed;
Sands and shells turned beds cozily decorated,
Moon and stars the ambiance illuminated...
The buds of love blossomed and on due time bore fruits,
We came to the shores now bringing our naughty kids;
They scribbled, made sculptures in magnificent styles,
We built castles within while enjoying their smiles.
Amidst tangles of routines shores now forgotten,
Our children married and their kids now begotten;
We, one in heart, hand in hand, memories Cudding,
Cherubims of happiness within us wedding...
She too is gone now I like a seagull forlorn,
Taking shelter aside the shore and within mourn;
Cherishing all good and bad memories of old,
Scribble and build sculptures keeping my heart still bold.
I see this sea and shore as paths of transcendence,
Wherefrom my spirit will sore to the resplendence;
Where the splendor of God showers on me his grace,
Where my eyes will see realities face to face.
28 July 2021
Celestials' envy,
Earth's seraphic gravity,
Revolving in love !
Written on 24/5/14
Haiku - 5/7/5
Contest - Picture this # 1
Sponsor- SKAT- A
The sun of Aleppo will not
Smit you by the night of war;
for you are the toothpick stronger
then the great wall of China,
you are a king of the night.
Music in your head is grace,
love is sweet in your mouth,
Stars seen in your eyes are
the celestials of the heavens;
your muse is the god of perfection.
You are the art in appreciation,
you are the streams of knowledge,
the movement of your hair by the air
is the orbiting voices of the angels,
the earth can not even home your skull.
Dance of your feet are tale of love
writing from home to home for peace,
your beads glitter and glow for sanity.
Moonchild, moonlight of tomorrow,
We are the song of your yesterday.
Moonchild, moonlight of the gods,
Through your destiny we can build,
Yesterday made us a fool; fools
Pocketing our groaning lies to fault
Come, take us home where you live.
©John chizoba vincent
This paradox of flesh and spirit...
One being bright as the other dark
Withering it's flower aneath celestials sun
Ageless her renewing in timeless waters
Metaphoric streams a cocoon she waits..
Restless, these dreams to escape; to fly away.
A vast explosion in the sky
of supernova’s great goodbye
is how immense celestials die.
Yet these demises have their worth
to aid perchance in future birth
of star to house a planet earth.
Our human species’ vessel home
beneath the heavens’ vaulted dome
is floating in a sea of foam
where we’ve been sailing safe and sound
with bubbles multiversed around,
so novel theories propound.
Thus in our ‘brane’ with solar world
that’s strung with particles unfurled
we dwell within dimensions curled,
as per this unifying stance
about the unbeknownst expanse
which hosts our mortal song and dance.
The firmament we peer into
plays hide and seek with what’s in view
to shift with varied light anew.
When sets the sun at day’s decline
and darkness shapes its redesign,
somewhere a star will show its shine.
Longfellow’s classic epic said
that endless meadows overhead
would ‘one by one’ in silence spread
their star ‘forget-me-not’ arrays
of blossoms for the angels’ gaze,
his lovely lines to paraphrase.
‘How countlessly they congregate’,
wrote Robert Frost of stellar spate
that waits beyond the darkling gate!
Though death all life may underlie,
in cosmic twinkling of an eye
somewhere a star is born on high…
~ Harley White
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Some sources of inspiration were the following…
“Silently, one by one, in the infinite meadows of heaven,/ Blossomed the lovely stars, the forget-me-nots of the angels.”
~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Evangeline: ‘A Tale of Acadie’
First line of ‘Stars’, by Robert Frost, from Robert Frost’s ‘A Boy’s Will’, 1915…
M-theory ~ Wikipedia…
The royal chambermaid and the young warrior, fleeing the wrath of the heavenly palace, were flying low, their robes trailing through the air like colourful ghosts. Their elopement to the earthly domain had been condemned by the celestial throne, and now the soldiers of the pursuing army, forbidden to descend any further into the dwelling place of mortals and beasts, the line between heaven and earth being inviolable, had massed in the sky, each with a white cloud underfoot, their eyes following the desperate flight of the fugitives, two bright specks sweeping over the barren landscape far, far below. The commanding general raised his sword.
Deserting the blue,
Match made in heaven, earthbound,
Gravity of love.
The two lovers could sense that the end was near. Flying huddled together, his arm around her shoulders, they looked into each other’s eyes, a wistful smile on their lips, the wind pushing a thin strand of the chambermaid’s hair onto her face like the track of a tear. To die next to each other, just above the realm where they could be human about their love, was the second best fate they could have wished for.
Doomed by human hearts,
Celestials embracing fate,
Flight interrupted.
The sky darkened. A million jade arrows poured straight down from the heavens, blocking out sun and hope, whistling through the air, a shrill dirge, then smashed like thunderbolts into the land, their shafts and feathers quivering in a green fury at having been sunk in this filthy turf forever. Presently, deep in their midst, out of the trembling, seedless earth, appeared a pair of mysterious red flowers that, through the numberless winters since, have refused to wither.
A merciless sky,
A deluge of green arrows,
Bamboo forest sways.
God’s playground is surreal,
A mystical ambiance
Ethereally exciting and enthusiastic
Full of comets, constellations, and celestials
Outer space is magical.
A dreamland for explorers, astronauts and adventurers
Martians and Saturn space dwellers
Spiritual guides who duck meteors to get to our dream state
The realm of heaven is closer than we imagined
Living among planets, nebulae, and the galaxies
Constellations of gods and goddesses protecting us
From getting too close and if we do, they can always provide a black hole.
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Shuffling this scope of limited perceptions their visions
Crossing the celestials scintilating skies; deep inside tubular
Chimes lifting in the breeze to these tranquil orisons
Subliminally marked emotions rising in state; bay windows dismissing chains....
Silvertones rustic tides, receding from the shores before my eyes
Portent clarities bearing a Spirits wings to fly ~
Beyond the breakwater whirlpools vortex designs!?
Breathtaking inversions encapulating this heart as solipsism flees
And the eclipse of the once paradoxic moon now utters her
Revelations touchstone moments....
Beckoning myself aneath certitudes apex of parallel reasons these
Realms amid the cloistered heavens wherein, beauty does so reside ~
Tubular chimes lifting in the breeze, subliminally marked emotions afore
Bay windows in silvertones scintilating skies; bearing, wings to fly beyond
The colour splashed canvas of pastels immortal, stardust....
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.."?A 21st Century, 'Love Song!'"..
The roar of the raging seas
The tinkling of sonorous bells
The sweet manipulation of thousand voilins
The running waves of gushing liquids
The buzzing of happy bees,
The thunderous sound from the bare clouds
The voices of the infinite celestials
Bite us O wisdom!
Infest our minds with rich testimonies of words
Conflagrate our imaginative powers
Mystify the sacredness of our poetical voices
Grind our rough lines smooth and perfect
Elevate our positions in the lyrical universe
Control our feeble fingers as we ink through the wilderness of distorted valleys
Let our inner eyes behold quality pictures in the gallery of obscure realms
We magnetize and Immortalize
Our true symbol of poetism.
Amen!
A barred spiral galaxy in the Giraffe
has one of the arms curled in front of its core
where dust laden lanes in the grouping outpour
as Hubble has shown it for earthlings’ behalf.
Some sort of encounter perhaps came along
for bent NGC Two One Four Six once took,
which lent it that loopy anomalous look,
engendering forces colossally strong.
So lively in midwifing star births is it
that this galaxy earned the term starburst kind
like clusters of blooms Mother Nature designed
in tropical gardens terrene to visit
or namely the clerodendrum called starburst
which effloresces in a canopy bright
as do starburst galaxies at cosmic height
with budding sidereal young being nursed.
The galaxy’s less large than Milky Way’s size
just slightly, they say, to astronomers’ eyes,
with starry creation in lavish supplies
thus adding to worlds in stelliferous skies.
What habitants will these celestials see fit
to bring to fruition as creatures, to wit,
allow them to flourish as features permit
then blossom as lifeforms evolved bit by bit?
About eighty thousand light-years end to end
it lies ninety million light-years from our place,
this mortal abode of humanity’s race
that’s wending its oft wayward way round the bend,
or so it seems, though there are stargazer dreams
as reveries reaching existence’s plane
whence deeper dimensions of being may reign
embracing the whole of reality’s streams
in sensory oneness with all great and small,
beyond unenlightenment’s treacherous thrall,
a doomed irredeemable fate to forestall
which sadly might ever more likely befall.
We dwell in a realm where delusions benight,
enraptured in spell making wrong appear right
with vision too blurry to notice our plight.
Such times find it vital to seek out the light.
~ Harley White
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Info ~ NGC 2146, a starburst galaxy in Camelopardalis (Anne’s Astronomy News)…