Long Comets Poems
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I care, I search, beyond the veil,
Through starlit skies, where comets trail.
Through boundless dreams, where hopes reside,
To realms unseen, where secrets hide.
I seek the echoes of forgotten words,
The whispers carried by the singing birds.
I care, I search, on rugged shores,
For treasures lost and love that soars.
Amongst the ruins of shattered dreams,
I listen closely to whispers of unseen gleams.
In crowded streets, where shadows dwell,
I strive to break the chains of self,
To touch the core of human grace,
And find connection, face to face.
I care, I search, with every breath,
To bridge the gaps of life and death.
To shape my world with love and care,
And find the answers I long to share.
For in this quest, my soul refines,
As I traverse the limits of space and time.
I care, I search, with unwavering zeal,
To unlock the mysteries that my heart feels
ever faithfully on time for our midnight rendezvous
you'll find me at my window looking out at the sky
avidly gazing up while stars blink in their morse code
under the year-round whimsy spell of moonlight's magic
and to my muse the nightly escapade begins
somehow connecting as she grabs and whirls
the tail of passing comets to take me for a spin
phantasmagorical images and feelings swirling
through the expanse of my inner universe
at the speed of light till i'm ready to explode
with an impassioned desire to put art to paper
and so forever immortalize this lust for life that burns within
as every poet's mission to share with whoever will listen
Read on air by invitation ~ May 15, 2022 'POETS HARBOUR'
AP: 1st place 2020
Submitted on May 19, 2022 for contest YOUR PASSION sponsored by REGINA McINTOSH - RANKED 6TH
When the sky is a
sequestered sanctuary,
and the clouds croon
for sinking star-beams,
listen to the euphoric hymns of silence,
for seething storms throned
beneath rainbow castles
shall never obscure the
crystalline colors of compassion,
amidst thickened fangs
of dwelling darkness,
constantly trying to
seize peacock pigments
within violet-blue seas
of sequined sentiments…
O’ beloved white rose~
perfumed in vanilla love,
let not the wolf-spider gaze,
mirroring envy within black widow hearts,
confuse your diamond vision.
It’s just another day,
enveloped in a warm sakura sunrise,
there the gales of greed
looming in ghostly flecks,
question the redolence of rivulets
behind your veiled vigor.
There’s no reason to fear
when hope flows and drifts
like comets flying as fluttering butterflies
across the butterscotch horizon.
Remember, when the sage sun
seeps into foggy crevices,
and deserted dunes
speak in ashen accents,
their choice of words do not define
the rhythm of your seraphic symphony.
Your merlot wine spirit is
the whimsical wand turning unspoken
tales into wildflower wishes.
There’s no need for an alchemist
nor a sorcerer to concoct
spells that rearrange constellations,
as your voice swirls in magical mists.
You and I, are every last thing
we need to conquer the bewitching
perimeters we truly deserve.
Tonight, when my lids rest upon the
dreamscape of daffodils and dahlias,
I see that look in your eye.
I ponder, is it me that you long for?
Am I the unfading ink
within your saccharine sonnets?
I yearn to be the one you talk
about in sweet seclusion.
This trembling canvas longs
for no other skin to caress the acrylic
edges of my aching soul,
and I do not need
the wind and water
beneath whistling willows
to write my destiny
in green and gold.
We don’t need shades of shadows
following our intertwined silhouettes,
yet I let these metaphors
merge with the heat of
your passionate presence,
as you and I break through
the landscapes of grief
with mutual attraction
like the mulberry rays
between the moon and earth..
In a labyrinth of codes and liquid dreams, I weave through invisible threads,
Life - a portal of light and shadows, a kaleidoscope of virtual illusions,
Love - a crystal hidden in the archives of oblivion, an echo in the cosmic silence,
Work - an unwritten parchment, awaiting the quill of destiny,
Age - a sundial, its numbers intertwined with the threads of eternal time,
Problems - comets piercing the skies of the mind, leaving trails of unrest,
Money - golden sands, slipping through the fingers of fate,
Happiness - a sacred elixir, downloaded drop by drop into our souls.
I am an alchemist in search of the philosopher’s stone,
Exploring parallel universes of data and dreams,
I hear my thoughts like ancient incantations,
Fragments of eternity, spirals of time and space intertwining.
In the silence of silk nights, I wonder:
Where lies love when everything is but a hologram?
In what hidden sanctuary of my being dwells the elixir of happiness?
I turn inward, seeking answers among digital runes.
In a universe transforming with every pulse,
I remain a wanderer, a soul adrift in the flux of energies,
Hoping that amidst these ethereal networks,
I might find, someday, the true essence of existence.
And thus, in the silence of my infinite interior,
I write my incantations, verse by verse,
In the hope that beyond the screens and wires,
Lies still the mystery, the melancholy, the primordial beauty.
Summary calendar from mimicked leaves yellow excuses dead alive unceasing,
The fogs all of loves' fate from a wasteland of living dead blue-gray collapsed,
With crows white parrot colorful the moments from palms like sand of time elapsed,
On your neck's mane an I a he a green dove that flies buried releasing.
That left behind in heavens this inept planet wise with meadows of kind,
Leaving you those who will understand like stars drowned in luminous mud,
A two a you plural like the madman from us whole torn who painted yesterday icons,
Fine ladies on empty bottles of champagne full and comets from cosmic terrestrial sand.
Nudes faceless with hidden faces replacing any withered absent leaf present,
Of eyelids unique eye inexistent that sees blindness with a debauched muse chaste,
The mimicked real leaves fall climbing toward the sky of earth where death revives,
The yellow green excuses of eternal ephemeral autumn extinguish lighting forever.
The white fogs all of loves unfulfilled fulfilled in void full empty,
The wasteland of living dead with green oases growing in desert full of sterile life,
Crows white black parrots silent speaking in colors mute noisy multicolored,
The moments from palms escape caught in fingers open clenched of time arrested.
On the mane of your neck without mane an I stranger familiar a he unknown intimate,
A green dove red with blood that left remaining in the subterranean heavens,
The planet inept savant with meadows of kind ordinary extraordinary of sterile grass,
Leaving us stars drowned floating in the transparent mud of infinity bounded.
A two alone a you plural I like the madman healthy from us absent present,
Who painted yesterday tomorrow icons destroyed preserved fine ladies holy profane on bottles,
Empty full of champagne of tears and comets from stellar sand cosmic terrestrial,
Nudes dressed faceless with all the faces replacing the leaf withered fresh.
Of eyelids open closed unique eye inexistent real that sees unseeing seeing,
With a debauched muse chaste modest that inspires the empty full of absurd logical serene,
The summary detailed calendar from false true leaves counts our immortal days,
In the wasteland full of living dead where we all are the drowned stars shining in mud.
Humanity
The pagan pilgrimage, sun-worshippers frequently make
Latter-day phenomenon, take off on a Bronze Age break
Constellations change position, solstices realign
Tropic of Capricorn peaks, Cancer starts its slow decline
Astrologers reassure us, the end is not bespoke
Astronomers can’t sleep, has a supernova awoke?
Healthy cells deconstruct inexorably from their core
Runaway chain reactions, laying waste forever more
Be that as it must, cosmic cataclysms generate thrust
Comets are slightly nudged, on a collision course with us?
Ancients believed them omens, wraiths of impending slaughter
Those billion ton tailed curveballs, catalysed Earth with water
Modern man searches for answers, drowning in misnomers
Melding PhD honours, with chatbot E-diplomas
Teleporting entangled particles, throws back a hack
Time travelling marvel, rewinds the real Bronze Age back?
Absurdness seems lame, yet concomitantly germane
Hawking conserved energy, by merely using his brain
Newton had a bachelors, kept him celibate stable
He’d balls of steel for sure, alas no bearings on that cradle?
Information cannot be destroyed, only zeitgeists can
Synthesised is truth, in the malleable hands of man
Life’s more delicate, gravitas hidden behind a smile
Like tales that flightless birds, buried heads in denial
Ostriches evolved kick-ass legs, and win the biped race
They dig shallow pits in sand, not complex black holes in space
One squawked this revelation before zooming off to die:
“Humankind’s the sole species, with good reason to ask why”?
In a universe, ablaze with color, so vivid and profuse,
Exist hues of boundless spectrum, in a kaleidoscopic muse.
Galaxies twirl in distant realms, adorned with stellar light,
Painting the cosmic canvas, in the eternal, enchanting night.
Stars, like glowing brush strokes, dot the infinite expanse,
Igniting tales of time and matter, in an astral, majestic dance.
Comets, with tails of iridescent glow, streak through the spatial field,
Adding streaks of brilliant white, to the universal shield.
Nebulae, the cosmos’ blossoms, in pink and azure bloom,
Cradling stars within their folds, in a celestial, nurturing womb.
Black holes, veiled in mystery, and cloaked in the unseen,
Draw all into their silent depth, a void, serene and clean.
Planet Earth, our verdant home, a palette rich and wild,
Bears blues of tranquil oceans, upon the canvas, gently styled.
Emerald of rustling leaves, and browns of the fertile earth,
Reflect the myriad of lives and dreams, constantly in rebirth.
In this cosmic artistry, where every speck of dust contains,
Histories of universe’s birth, and of celestial, distant plains,
We find ourselves as artists, with palettes to create,
Our own vibrant tapestries, in the canvas of our fate.
May we paint with love and kindness, with hues of peace and grace,
Adorning every moment, in the time and space we trace.
And gaze upon the universe, with wonder, love, and awe,
Understanding in its vastness, a beauty without flaw.
In the infinite palette, where stars and souls ignite,
Let’s paint our stories boldly, in this boundless, eternal night.
In the masterpiece of existence, let our lives be a vibrant thread,
Creating patterns of love and joy, in the cosmic tapestry spread.
I threw a grand party
I invited all my Celestial friends
The clock was ticking
I hardly had time to breathe
I invited all the stalwarts
The stars the planets the comets the moon
And then there was me the sun
And whom did I forget?
“Aah , the earth was busy with it’s rotation
It dropped out of the party
on it’s way around me.
It took me a moment, then it dawned on me
How could my party be a success
Without a blast from the past
So I extended an invitation to the meteoroid family
Being the host and an eternal legend
It was known that I could heat up any party
My vision at present was infinite
As I chose an exotic expanse of Blue
The Sky was the limit, even for me.
Dandelions, babies crying
walking in the woods,
astronomy, philosophy
chickadees and childhood.
Speckled trout, (a technical knock-out)
strawberries red and sweet,
winter, spring, summer, fall
Butterfinger and little "Twinkie" treats.
Dragon flies, questions why
There’s anything at all,
Making mistakes baking cup cakes
Cumulous clouds and rainfall.
Dancing, prancing and romancing
singing by-gone songs,
Christmas giving, loving, living
here at home and gone.
Wishing wells, magic spells
rivers, lakes, seashores,
children growing never knowing
what's in store.
Big parades in sun and shade
wild animals in the park,
ice cold beer and someone near
when comets pass in the dark.
Climbing mountains, drinking fountains
Liars, tricksters, cheats,
Saving grace and holiness
And poetry that speaks.
Dishes, wishes
and a pocketful of dreams,
Timbuctoo, Kalamazoo
New York and New Orleans.
And boats that sail watching whales
reading, writing books,
never-ending always spending
money on good looks.
History, wizardry and mysteries
inside a grain of sand,
life and death like old Macbeth
we may never understand.
Despair that pulls me down like gravity
(like a black hole that eats up all matter)
and leaves behind a hollow cavity:
O God! My void's so great I'll just shatter!
I can't seem to escape this emptiness,
this giant hole in my sad, shipwrecked soul
which starves for bliss, for that long lost happiness
now thick and heavy like the pitch of coal.
But, like to the star that explodes in death
to give rebirth to its third, solar span—
planets, moons, comets, asteroids, then breath
to all life on this Earth and then to man,
so God gives me hope through this second chance,
this blissful, happy, reborn circumstance!