Trajectories Poems | Examples

class of 25

If freshman year was aspirational
and sophomore year was unhinged
junior year was put up or shut up
and senior year is a dash to the finish line

This year’s on fast forward—and it’s for keeps
every to-do list has value-laden questions
things seem sharp edged, single use and intense
it’s all about trajectories and ‘landing spots”

Let’s wax poetic..

Produce now, or spend fury on thyself—all else is untenable
we’re past youth and ignorance—your honour’s at stake

Suitors call you by name, like well-acquainted friends
they took your measure—you’re beyond the mark of others
they seduce with money—the future brings liberty and noble deeds.

So don the the garland and prove thyself—take the field
join the battle—now’s the reward—aidless, perpetual toil
with every motion be right, it’s thy shunless destiny.
.
.
A song for this:
A Man of Great Promise by The Style Council
Headstart For Happiness by The Style Council

Artificial Humans

Weird world evolves,
Weird creatures
Wired to gadgets
Evolve.

They articulate 
And gesticulate.
They giggle 
And tread
On the trajectories of living.

Their brains brim
With artificial intelligence,
They act like humans.
They are 
The artificial humans.

Technology savvy humans 
Reconstruct our humanity,
The religionists 
Resign to the new humanity,
The ethicists 
Seek to etch
Unethical on our minds.

The elasticity of our civilization 
Stretches 
And stretches,
Our civilization overstretched.

Years to come,
Our civilization 
Overstretched,
Will snap.

Periapsis II

it's like you're the earth, and I'm the moon,
I can't keep myself from revolving around you,
your orbital pull I can't quite resist
so I'll bide my time till periapsis
but on this periodic orbital trip,
my time with you I'll surely miss,
although I know that you wont stay,
our distance grows each passing day
our push and pull guide manifolds
in complex planes our boundaries wane 
trajectories chaotically change
but still momentum stays the same,
perhaps this apoapsis wont
leave me choked in the throat,
i just hope your delta V,
wont tenderly escape from me,
because this two body problem,
isn't as simple as it would seem,
when we’re circling stars
in this big, wide, galaxy

ingenue

I'm not an 'ingénue' anymore - that’s been vitiated.
I'm not innocent, pure, naive or vulnerable -
which are technically, 'ingénue' requirements
(I don’t make the rules).

That being said, if no one has an objection,
in terms of narrative trajectory, I'd like to be
considered a 'fémme fatale' until further notice.
.
.
Songs for this:
HEATED by Beyoncé
Hysterical Us by Magdalena Bay

dust covered journeys

I shift my mind
through the wild trajectories
of life
I often feel I have turned the corner
refusing to the titterings of despair
I cannot hold back the spring
the snowman is no more
I must welcome summer
and hear the voices chattering
of travellers tales
from their dust bone journeys

Periapsis

it's like you're the earth, and I'm the moon,
I can't keep myself from revolving around you,
your orbital pull I can't quite resist
so I'll bide my time till periapsis
but on this periodic orbital trip,
my time with you I'll surely miss,
although I know we'll be close to one another,
we'll still end up without eachother,
but forever in this nether 
you and I will spin together,
our push and pull guide manifolds
in complex planes our boundaries wane 
trajectories chaotically change
because this two body problem
isn't as simple as it would seem
this anxiety always finds me when
I think of you and me

Failing Visions

The hole in his retina was getting larger.
He once saw the elephants
heading for the hills
long before the news broke on that far shore.

Even today
when his magnifying glass is cloudy
with questions
he still sees the asteroids.
breaking away from their trajectories
and falling upon the earth
like a pack of wolves.

He told the ophthalmologist
about this vision
she just smiled,
at least he thought she smiled,
for her teeth were as black
as a moonless night.

Inside the Ai of a Spaceship

It's hard to talk
From inside this box,
You won't see me dance
But I will advance.

I am a dreamer
With a quiet demeanor,
I've got to fly
To see stars in my eye.

Sleek metal surrounds me,
Super engines propel me
While I compute trajectories
Taking you to destinies

Beyond the Milky Way.


Image: Pixabay

Writer's Block

Wringing Withering Words
        Rhymes Remotely Rhetoric 
        Inherently Irritating Irony
        Tying Tattered Trajectories
        Enticing Ethereal Echoes 
        Relinquishing Ruined Rhymes
        Stubbornly sitting stalwartly

        Busily Busting Brain
        Limiting, Losing. Lackluster 
        Ostensibly Ordering Oracles
        Crumbling Cursive Curlicues
        Klutzy Kerfuffle Kaleidoscope

Massaging His Sage

Between each archway fingerprint
Remnant headstone carving intricate
Decodes dusty cold cave hieroglyphics 

Dirty criss crossed city disposes its sacred
Therapist picks information, laden orchid
Reaps apples, red atoms accumulated
Unwound reveal his raw core seed

Drenches cortex, a sculptor's paste
Presses wet clay to her gluttonous shape
Vessel cool vase impervious as nature's sage
Erects their next century in verdant scape
Cracked terracotta, craft invigorates

Discerned strange through merged lenses
Eternity guaged by trajectories blended
Vehemently slapped at session end
Melted muscles dispel defences

Tutorials mould her, ripe to manipulate 
Watertight tomb hosts wisdom ingrained 
Eon bridging limber fingers arrange bouquet





 2nd July
Sensually

trajectories

trajectories
meticulously aligned
the cosmic dance



AP: Honorable Mention 2025

Posted on April 9, 2020

If I Werent Afraid

I arrived without clothes or fears at birth
but wore both within one year on earth;
in a crib, my self-esteem doubt blistered.

Since my initial vocal and mobile phase,
I played avoidance to eliminate critical
corrections that felt like imbecile rejections.
For two decades my fears fed anxieties
over disciplined, quick tempered males who
like my dedicated paternal man, could voice 
wither my core sheaves in ‘less than’ wisps. 
It took fifty rough years of soul aviation, 
plus my faith’s aimed navigation thru 
brutal life trajectories, to remind me
I have always been the perfect me blend.
Just here ‘till home again and fear’s but
an acronym: ‘false evidence appearing real.’

I am uniquely valuable, confident enabled 
and I daily fear shed but, well – maybe I
should pen about bungee jumping instead?




... CayCay
September 16, 2019

Weird Tale Ii

Harvard asked, if I still have it!
A strange question due to my
Weird inquiry, from requirements 
To attainments, life so entertaining 
When you "been living"
Any how, giving myself a pat-
on the shoulder for such a-great-work,
From running away to chasing my dreams!
The parallel worlds, what can we do with out the other?

We all know the world is round 
But it has rules: contours outlining my trajectories, 
as I search for the ruler
From the equator to the atmospheres,
And gravity pulls me down...!
Like woman falling in love,
The law of attraction and I'm behind bars:
Magnetism and I'm strong as iron,

Hard love: so I plant roses 
lawnmowers cutting my fine grasses 
Now my land looks like deserts 
Oh man, sand all over the show like
Ants...hahaha! kids laughing again:
O why don't you fly Peter pan?

Chock Chalices

I don’t wanna remember the blues
I feel when your heels trample 
My feelings, my dealings as clues
Emerge our relationship no longer serves as an exquisite example.

I don’t wanna think of the memories
Encapsulated in sadness so deep
It effaces bliss trajectories
You and I so hard strive to keep.

I don’t wanna revisit restive remembrances
Ensconced in crevices of disillusion
That bathe my heart and psyche’s entrances
I end up crying tears I pour in confusion.

I don’t wanna recycle traces of truth
So painful they tear me to pieces
Although a vista shines through the faith
That sneaks into panoramas of chock chalices.

There Is a Moon, I Have Seen It

Alone,
the television muted 
Thoughts float about on
shadowed wings 
Faces with moving mouths appear,
nothing is heard 
My mind collects itself,
slanted views 
Trading happiness for solitude,
beneath spinning blades
Not sharp,
but constant like minutes
Time teaches unwanted lessons
erasing chalkboards and creating dust

There is a moon, I have seen it,  
felt it,  reached out to touch it
It lit your face 
and I knew from that moment...
why

Who cares what color they say is in,
black is here in the silence
It flows effortlessly like satin,
stitched in memories and dreams
It tints the windows reflecting truth
Showing what has become,
glassed over situations
Blocking the moonlght,
shuttering desires
Burlap trajectories crashing
beyond the horizon
Fabricated realities for those awake
or those
alone

There is a moon, I have seen it 
Then it was gone

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