Best Nebulas Poems
I dwell in a high-rise apartment dwelling
That faces a gigantic air travel bureau building.
A bureau building with a mega mirrorred front,
thus its frontage a gigantic jumbo-sized mirror.
In the twilight hours of violet dusk or dawn,
the entire huge apartment flats
reflected on its mirrorred walls.
One can see the reflections
of the whole neighbourhood
All the faces peeping in from their windows
All the people hanging around
on their balconies and terrace
And if doors are left ajar
whatever is going on inside
their flats reflected indiscriminately
on the travel agency's massive mirrors as well!
It is quite a sight to see
esp for idle peeking, prying eyes.
Folks thus have to be conscientious
about their doings in full view...
But at midnight if you chance to wake up,
the giant mirrors reflect a spectacular sight!
The moon on a moonlit night
or starry heavens as
diamond specks of light!
Thus a huge patch of heaven
itself reflected upon it
Novas, supernovas, nebulas,
ooh, the shooting stars in God's Galaxy
all reflected magnificiently
upon the mirrorred walls!!
Fine shine, O' giant mirror, mirror
literally on the wall
But I'd rather you don't reflect
my unveiled form at all.
For I prefer being the invisible
belle of the hall....
Ballet of the Stars
Breath of the galaxy spins the night sky
Over the magic of midsummer dreams
Legends, lovers, pirouette through the night
Sculptures of fire carved with airy light beams
Dances l’etoile sparkle winter rondeaus
Gossamer nebulas leave stardust veils
Ensembles of stars in stellar tableaus
Costumed in lightness made of starry faille
Astral ballets dance on ebony stage
Patterns of stars in place in this dark space
Stage left then stage right arrangements change place
Celestial performance – rotating grace
Star-spangled glitter on star twinkle toes
Scrim curtain rises on nighttime’s light show.
5-18-23
Contest: Sonnet Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Sotto Poet
Syllables checked with www.howmanysyllables
Celestial – 3 syllables
Performance – 3 syllables
Times when I felt my life is spent.
Should I yearn for happiness?
I feel I am like a towel
That absorbed too much.
Has it been washed
Far too many times?
Or like a colourful hummingbird
that lost its joyous tune
And can only grumble
At injustice and senile shame?
Behind the dark clouds of everyday
The sun shines bright and clear,
Emitting golden beams,
Enriching the deep galaxy,
Around it circle myriads
Of gaseous nebulas
And gorgeous stars.
And as I contemplate this greatness
I know I'm not alone,
I smile a little hopefully
And feel peace in my heart.
Sweet beautiful butterfly that sails the celestial seas,
With narcotizing nuclei that brings me to my knees…
Spreading gaseous light, throughout the multiverses’,
A scintillating sight, where immortal love immerses.
Benevolent butterfly, bring me to Heaven's shore,
Intoxicating the candy eye, with visions to explore…
Gorgeous galactic wings, movement of the spheres,
Clusters of superstrings, nebulas geometric gears.
According to context of Stars, we are all merely dust,
With moons sharing scars and novae ready to combust…
Amongst the Sands of Time, fast fading away to cinders,
Creating a new paradigm, within God's flourishing fingers.
June.11.2019
Nifty Named Nebula's Poetry
Sponsored by: William Kekaula
Pic #1
Music snippet by... Pendulo-Zayrus Selector Odeon
Placed 5'th...Thank You
sometimes I sing
antique anthems,
of the nights
I was confined
within a bottle
of diamond tears,
wept woefully
from the widest sky
that held kaleidoscopic stars~
amidst festooned fields of
pixie-dust flowers,
hanging like
starburst chandeliers,
when t i m e was never in favor
of designing a
heart-shaped galaxy
to ease the
troubled torrents….
as languid linings
cast by the
sombre umbra
soaked me
in melancholic sprinkles,
of what was left in my strength;
for I knew nothing
beyond the evening clouds
that mirror
marshmallow musings,
stained with
tuscan tones. ..
yet, I remember
seeing your sunflower smile,
as I dreamt of
your mystical melodies,
spoken poetically,
way before I knew you
would become my reality,
though the homely hideaway
to my hopes
now fester amongst
corners of your
dusky eye lashes…
I’ve battled with nothing
but obsidian obstacles
that laid
in the
tiny tunnels
of my
crippled consciousness.
now our souls
seem chained in pearls
and coiled in amethyst anklets
as one, in stellar waves
through a
ceaseless constellation;
cosmic connection
endorsing these fingers
with your
poignant pantoums,
aligning my heart to lay
within your
evergreen embrace,
limited by
the lyrical land
you’ve lavished
my
longing lagoons into.
so here I am, scribbling stories
of our zealous zenith
within your platinum presence~
as confessions disguised
within tangerine tercets
of vanilla villanelles
have now come alive,
amidst a rebirth
of a warrior meant
to b l e e d
vivid verses
eviscerating
nacreous nebulas
into blissful b l u e brines,
that shall stream
through
unfamiliar rivers of dragon roses
till every electrifying element
rests in aesthetic harmony.
I was born where comets broke their promises,
where the night sky wore bruises
the color of forgotten kings.
The midwife held me up to the moon
and the moon hissed.
Not from hatred,
but recognition.
Something ancient had arrived
with stardust in its lungs
and venom in its veins.
I learned early
that beauty has fangs.
Roses defend themselves.
Galaxies swallow whole worlds.
Even angels carry swords
when the story demands it.
So I wandered,
a glittering contradiction,
collecting constellations in my pockets
and grudges in my shadow.
Lovers kissed my forehead
and tasted lightning.
Enemies drew blood
and found their own reflections
staring back from the wound.
Years passed.
Nebulas bloomed and collapsed.
Entire versions of myself
burned to ash
like letters tossed into sacred fire.
Yet here I remain.
Not untouched.
Not innocent.
But luminous.
A creature forged
from equal parts poison and wonder.
The stars taught me how to shine.
The venom taught me how to survive.
And on this birthday,
beneath a sky still writing my name,
I raise a glass
to every darkness I outlived,
to every dream that refused extinction,
and to the wild truth
that some souls are not born gently.
Some arrive
wearing stardust as a crown
and venom as a pair of wings. ???
take my hand we are to dance in the stars
it is a whirlwind in its arms
as we glide thru they will dance
in a tiara of suns adorning you
now lift your hand, turn in a balance
as we glide thru nebulas
the newly forming stars mix in your hair
as rubies capturing that red seductive glow
the essence you are i so adore
drawn to the center a black hole
becomes weak interacting massive particles
to the gravity in your eyes
i am held in your arms as such
as we escape the event horizon
we are now free to continue in eternity
this is not a dream
it is the next phase waiting
when we escape this mortal coil
there are a trillion galaxies
and upon your dance ticket
i am the only name
wise men say only fools dream
but if you look at Raphael's
School of Athens, there are only men
i prefer the dreams i have in your arms
OKC 9/22
Lunar eclipse plunges me in shadow.
Orbital, I spin in the dark.
Nebulas, I am insignificant amongst many,
Extra-terrestrial, alone and apart.
Limbic, I drift with creation.
Interstellar, I reunite with my past.
Neutron stars, immense galaxy dustbins,
Eat planets while I watch, aghast.
Severance, I have never felt so keenly,
Screaming, cart-wheeling, into the dark.
Stars of Clarity 11-22-23
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Stars of Clarity
Lost in ebony
Void of bursting astral intuitions,
Alabaster amber stolen,
Abandoned in delirium’s decay
Of dying brown dwarfs
Hoarding lavender purple leftovers,
Hidden remnants of disguised advent,
Ashen sojourner wades through impotent stardust
Numb in faded platinum insight.
Out of grey vertigo
Carmine dwarfs arise to overshadow ebony
In a giddy sense of spangled glitter
When enigmas and puzzles
Step out of nebulas into mystic purity.
Pilgrim, found in neon,
Incandescent cavalcades of exploding chartreuse
Guide ephemeral crystalline visions,
Burnished auroras splash across epiphanies,
Rounded shards divulge silver nativity,
When salient flashes nurture constellations of certainty,
Astral sparks of cosmic scarlet explosions,
And shrouded a-ha’s emerge like incandescent sextons
Leading to stellar sequins - champagne diamonds of clarity.
Nature’s Decay and Rebirth 10-23-25 Flowers fade and decay through wintry hours waiting for rebirth.
Aster means star
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Nature’s Decay and Rebirth
Astral groans transcend fall gardens,
Aster stars decay in shock waves
Fresh petals turn to star flowers of straw
Like impotent stardust.
Bathed in breath of frosty kisses
Like a cold celestial caress
Autumn’s stars wilt in twilight’s pregnant sighs
Chrysalis’ for new life.
Beating hearts of crumbling seed heads -
Like the imploding red dwarf -
Release their nebulas of umber seeds
With interstellar pods.
On solar winds like shooting stars
These explorers seek for warm soil
And nascent cosmos glide into deep space
Seeking rivers of stars
From clouds of frigid decay set free
A stellar garden rises up
Aster galaxies freed from vernal wombs
To dazzle stargazers
Ableism, in the streets in day . People tell me how to walk, when to walk, how to live. ?
because
I'm blind I'm obviously incompetent; even if not this impression they give.
The other night I was in the most pleasant mood when a man grabbed the cane and it's not considered rude.
Just a part of the ignorant theme of America and elsewhere. ; I get it.
Yet the price to be paid is mine and the trauma identity
imbedded
Early afternoon I peeled away the gloom.
By writing down my thoughts and feelings though abstract like the nebulas I've grown to own.
Poetry Soup an some showed me love.
Community, finally, but bliss to early...
To log in you need a Capture code; a little image simple to you but impossible for me.
ablest surely aren't in our home we think; Saturday night live can't truly be that cruel.
Sorry to say it's true.
The spoken key won't fit in the lock; give it a try and put yourself in my rotten shoe .
SNL wouldn't make fun of a Jew, but they brutalize
the blind just as surely as I'm talking to you.
Yes it is true; I am witness; the verbal codes keep me from taking part just as surely as your weight problem meant no prom date.
I can only have my girlfriend log me in so long and then I'm livid and screaming my ostracism
song. feel terrible, side-lined, and wanted to tell the site developers.
I go to the contact us link but of course you needed to see in order to send a message.
The verbal codes inaudible
or at best they can't be typed for glitches.
Call the BBB but unless it's a valid crime then who cares.
If'n my heart then it tears.
If it's my part then it's the role of pulling out my own hair; to pull through?And so I bit you ado.
Such sweet, lovely moments with you,
Each time we speak
I experience overwhelming
joy and love.
I am still floating in the luxurious warmth....
words are terribly inadequate,
when I attempt to describe the effect
you have on my soul.
Yes, I believe it is my soul,
as the feelings and emotions
lighten my soul to such a degree, that
I am nearly in a meditative, out of body state
My consciousness floats freely
in absolute bliss.
These words are neither flowery,
nor sugary attempts to be poetic;
They are dragged from the depths of my heart,
to this physical world,
To explain that, which cannot be explained
Knowing you forever of days,
lifetimes, and love knots,
that have bound our souls
in this embryonic embrace.
The pads of my finger tips tingle
as I see your hands connecting to mine
Tethered by spiritual light,
infused with starshine from the farthest nebulas.
Reaching through the ether,
arriving as a lustrous lavender aura,
that cocoons our souls in eternitys womb.
Our heart soul sings joyous, melodic notes,
with origins we can only feel,
but never to be heard,
in the physical plane.
Soul songs from our beloved
Masterworks.
Oh, how I love thee and beyond...
The sky way beyond where deep space exists
Following the realms of deepest blackness
Only some intervals do stars approach
And can brighten your soul in the darkness
The light brings an enhanced feel all without
As you go, nebulas are formed outside
As you move along it goes endlessly
Space does not finish, there’s no stars beside
Time’s different out here, where does it go
Without light the mood crashes from beyond
I don’t believe there’s any use out here
The other systems you would surely bond
Not knowing how to reach these best systems
There are questions by some persons today
The unknown fascinates many people
Leading us to guess what’s there anyway
Russell Sivey
Contest: Why?
Sponsor: Barbara Gorelick
6/3/2013
Why do the stars die?
What if such light vanishes?
What if glows darken?
Seek new horizons,
Illuminate dim radiance,
Burnish darkened clouds...
Should glows be polished?
Should obscure stellar cores shine?
Are they even bright?
Clear lucid dreaming,
Scintillant astral travels,
Flashing dimensions...
Should universal
Concealments be enlightened
From ambivalence?
Should such dull secrets
Be revealed or get unveiled
From black nebulas?
Dusk, dawn, day, night, gloom,
Time, space, gravity...;
Are they all shaded?
Silence
It literally smothered us, that still ambiance of the day—
The cruel, frustrating uncertainty of it all
In silence, many glistening eyes filled with pain and tears
Gazed feverishly toward the dark blankets of slightly parted cloud
The bright nebulas of spiraling light,
Once seen by the adversaries,
Were no more
Yet still, we waited like starving animals,
Wishing…waiting to be fed the truth.
Nothing came of course, save the silence.
We are the disposables
They take our loved ones into the skies
And leave us here like trash
No one knows whom they will choose next,
And what happens when they are torn away from mankind
If only we knew they were safe and sound—
If only we had a slight idea of what they were
But they leave no trace of what they are
Neither of why they do what they do
Some say they are aliens,
Taking humans for experimental purposes,
Or various other reasons unknown to us
Some even believe they are angels,
Carrying off the fortunate ones to safety and celestial life
And then there are the more pessimistic, religious priests
That swear upon their hearts not to intervene with the situation,
Claiming these mysterious others to be the Devil’s disciples…
And that’s the thing that gets to us all,
Though some may hate to admit it
No one really knows.
But at least we know who we are
Don’t we?
June 2010