I waver at the star teeth
of my own invention,
accreting webs of wild light
where night trades
cold for dark
sidereal heat.
I am not here for mundane marvels—
I am here to manifest my most
daring fantasies into reachable
constellations,
grasping at the ungraspable—
drawing unfathomables to fruition.
8.14.25
above the sidereal
where God dwells
a place of things eternal
to which Jesus ascended
a future place
of departed Christians
raised from the dead
clothed in spiritual bodies
to enjoy eternity
in this divine kingdom
their names written down
as partakers&kin
to enjoy their reward
of eternal blessing
face to face
in this new earth & heaven
the first heaven &earth
were passed away
there is no more sea
in this tabernacle of God
God shall wipe tears from eyes
no death sorrow or crying do remain
nor shall there be any more pain
these former things are passed away
the city has no need of the sun or moon
the glory of God&the Lamb
shall always lighten it
so no night or darkness is to be found
no temple needed here
the Lord God Almighty
& the Lamb are the temple
in the holy city of new Jerusalem
The gates of the city shall not be shut
for those with His name on their forehead
& written in the Lamb's book of life
for all things are new in this Jerusalem
Ancient guardian of the sacred essence,
You wander through the taciturn void of slumbering souls
Where the shadow of truth gravely trickles into hieroglyphs,
An affection imprinted,
Upon the white colossi, cloaked in moss, who once
Reflected in faith lofty secrets,
The signatures of visionaries of yore
Howl an ode to knowledge,
Then beg, like an elixir, the heart of endless vigil
To chant a resurrection,
A living codex of verbs deeply carved into existence
To break free from the frame of a retouched chrysalis
With perilous oaths to tear the veil of stagnation,
To rekindle the polar flame of evergreen truth
In leaps unfolding from sidereal numbness
Illumination pleads for a reborn symphony
Truth with fresh breath –
That antagonizes a caravan of unforeseen revelations
That sows new causes for renewed deeds
In the sanctuary of the heart that waits with open embrace.
My heart burns with a cold, white fire
Fighting against itself in a battle no one can win
I am contrived, a portrait of a girl who...
And anyone can fill me in.
My destiny was not written for this world
This earth is not my home
And I am but an echo, the perception of a far-off light
Almost imperceptible amid the light pollution
Streetlights, headlights, stoplights, flashing highway signs
Obfuscating the truth.
For a moment, I think perhaps I could escape
The confines of flesh, blood, cells, atoms, tangibility
And ascend into the night posed into a constellation forever.
Whatever happened to the twelve o ‘clock rambler,
nocturnal venturesome brushstroke sort,
they face whirlwind snowfall, freezing ice,
while others brazenly squirm,
not for stoic diarist this threadbare exit,
exodus of the half-hearted humbug,
but ironclad ilk stubbornly remain,
eyes and ears are substitute antennas,
of this genus, genie, genius, glow worm ghost,
peaceful prowlers with pen on queue,
velvet moon worlds sidereal captured,
crescendo of cathartic bonhomie,
icy night frost punctured by high drive fog horns,
deft nib from dark ink manteau nomad,
who engross themselves in light and shade reflection,
as we balk at the eerie life we revel in,
drama under bridges, shadow figure chinwag,
river stream babble, blind alley gust,
eavesdrop on historic past teaser,
litter swept aural gossip whoosh,
eventide mournful dog bark heart tug,
darting elfin’s sly mind peep thereon,
yet the vagabond minstrel has to comb,
each backstreet, zebra crossing, sprawling suburb,
for inert sleepy after hour dozers,
who crave eye candy fodder as humdrum sidestep
The birth of stars in cosmic skies
could life and death epitomize,
and though we’re but a dot in space,
our earthly home with azure face
might mirror all that lives and dies.
The morning rays that luminize
in shining golden lantern guise
may seem in day’s ascent to trace
the birth of stars.
For suns shall set and others rise
through midwife Mother Nature wise
who cradles all in vast embrace,
while through her everlasting grace
brings from sidereal demise
the birth of stars.
~ Harley White
* * * * * * * * *
The poem is in the form of a rondeau…
Some inspiration derived from: Webb Celebrates First Year of Science With Close-up on Birth of Sun-like Stars…
Scales always imbalanced
In heart once filled with malice...
Found profound solace
In learnt lessons from unknown
Sources of benevolence.
---
Swati is the fixed star Arcturus in the Sanskrit language, Hindu religion, and Vedic (12-sign sidereal) astrology, positioned 0º Libra in sidereal.
Positioned at 24º Libra in western (12-sign tropical) astrology.
Libra is the sign of the Scales, weighing the contents of one's soul.
I reliably detect it in lush colors
Instigations from a distinct era
this sidereal day, the oscine didn't sing
conceivably it is squandered
In the cognitive hourglass
I scavenge for unmistakable echoes
We jumped off the rainbow
Dark stains hide beneath my lids
they stepped
on pure inner bliss
a single dormant desire dazzled
an emotional need whirling in a whirlwind
pearly flawless passion
the finest word of life: I love
Written: April 5th, 2022
A BRIAN STRAND PREMIERE CHOICE Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
RAIN OF RAYS
A
certainty of
precision
aspirations
in
a
phrased curve
sidereal
freed
from
vibrations
appropriate
& equivocal
to
facilitate
autonomous contours
a
seductive motif
obscure
consecrated
in the
aesthete
sensibility
an ephemeral proclivity
phases&
scales
of tension
THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE without grammatical symbols the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and respond thus making the form a two way interplay and often a unique interpretation by the enigma so derived
This
visionary girl
notes the
space
rapt ...
This
sidereal girl
reaps visions
astral
enraptured ...
This girl
that I love
truly is
phenomenal:
has stars
in the look ...!
The welkin above and the stars thereof
are a true delight to behold.
There we’re connected in something to love
through the sky that can all enfold.
Boundaries vanish and strife disappears
by assuming perspective grand
when together we look at stellar spheres,
irrespective of local land.
Despite the differences that divide,
in surveying the vast beyond
our far-reaching purposes are allied
so we sense humanity’s bond.
Wonders seem endless as vision wanders
amidst the scenes sidereal
while many a pensive poet ponders
how to voice the ethereal.
Though troublesome worries may get us down
the heavens our spirits uplift
in presence of firmament’s jeweled crown
of night’s resplendent global gift.
When comes the sundown my reveries soar
and soft I hear a mounting cry
by earthly stargazers from shore to shore,
‘We are one people neath one sky.’
Then all unite in the singular goal
of witnessing sights overhead,
thus to share their view of the cosmic whole
with feelings of oneness o’erspread.
~ Harley White
* * * * * * * * *
For Global Astronomy Month (GAM) 2020 AstroPoetry ~ penned at the request of Astronomers Without Borders
Man,
you are from space,
you are sidereal
ethereal...
Runaway but
not
a gas ...
A fact
of light that
will reach out ...
An act of flesh
that will mix
to earth ... but what if
will be spirit
when it's love ...
and so forever in the
love will exist ...
without dying ...!
"Blushing is the color of virtue."
You're done.
You melt like a sigh
on the lips of angels.
You've drained
the paleness of injustice,
your own hands tangled up,
aw, the square stare of the truth,
impassable duel of the pupils.
Your hands are filled with the face of our tragedy,
witherering among the sidereal flowers,
a cursed sunset,
a lamp lit in the wee hours,
no truce is better than advancing to the edge of yourself,
throwing yourself into the fire of the stars,
crossing the hard core time;
with flimsy memories
descending into a blessed hell.
You want to die with the lamp lit,
not talk about anything that gives you away
when you smoke compulsively,
tramontane and bold,
you know how pliable is the scroll of fear.
You are bad, Diogenes,
with your airs of moldy poet,
twitching the neurons of those who feel
that Truth is even more pliable,
Come here, my ox, my friend.
Man,
you are from outer space,
you are sidereal
ethereal...
A messenger sent by the creator
an alien of other spheres,
but not a gas ...
A fact
of light that
will not fade ...
An act of flesh
that will mix
to earth ... but what if
will assume spirit
when becomes only love ...
and so forever in the
love will exist ...
without dying ...!
Infinity is what we sense
when musing on the vast immense
with universes yet to mold
in starry heavens still untold
awaiting gazers in suspense.
Astronomers of why and whence
search stelliferous pathways dense,
as dreamers dreamily behold
infinity.
The great sidereal events
in views the firmament presents
upon the cosmic canvas scrolled
shall neverendingly unfold
for poets of the future tense
infinity…
~ Harley White
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