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Best Poems Written by Celio Somerset

Below are the all-time best Celio Somerset poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Celio Somerset Poem

In Your Orbit


For the hundredth time in my lifetime,
I've placed my love between the stars,
In the void of black at the canvas of space.

It isn't mine to behold, not now, truly never,
But I'd like to see it, in the loneliest times,
At my midnights, and in my earthly exile.

I'd feel like a sore thumb, trying to connect
It with others, my could-be replacements,
My understudies, close yet envied alliances.

Bewildered with too many projections
I'd hate my confessions if it weren't ancient,
But I've let the sand fall, I couldn't wait anymore.

Maybe the stars were perfectly small,
As I were significantly malignant and frail,
So they'd bring measure to our distance.

I could try to close in, to strike a collision,
But wouldn't that be cruel to your home,
To our kindling, to our shared friendships?

Wouldn't it had been fair if we ended up cut
If we could at least say we tried to make up?
That'd cure these old wounds, but at last,

To worlds and to Saturns, beyond moons
And comets, across galaxies and realms,
Please come, hear me out then let me ask,


Have I become someone stuck in your orbit,
Spinning endlessly, waiting for your gravity?

Details | Celio Somerset Poem

The Beach - an excerpt


Vivere est militare, 
Lord, He, Almighty, ever gentle.
Thou, please, speak with thee.
Tell not the ineffable glory.
Beg thee to sing, to color,
To forbid, crestfallen can't be.
Aid thee, I dither long, too far.
Bury thy tenacious folk
Under the meadows and the beach.
Allow the waves wash this blood,
And may the sand, with anger,
Carry the dead and thy debt.

Details | Celio Somerset Poem

Glass Seams


Unfortunately
Tattered become this chapter of life
This longing meandering of an escapade
This confided infidel of mirrored acts
This threadless oath thrown into air
Ever lost in the confines of the past
Buried away under all the laughter
Gambled and scratched like it's lottery
Betting it all in this losing game
Just to tear through at the glass seams
Just to claw at the skin of the hand
As it reached for what little sunlight
Before life went cold and dark
Lonely and unbound

Details | Celio Somerset Poem

Marbled Galatea

you held my breath
in a silent string,
while you kept shut
your heart from me;

away,
away and away
from me—
I pushed me out

yet you wait for me,
your marbled love
like you were Galatea
and I'd just carved you.

A warmth
I thought I felt,
but it's
cold and clear as glass,

yet you crumble me—
you pulled my heart
in a golden yarn of string
and I couldn't run away,

so I run into your arms instead,
out of breath, a breathing charmed.

Details | Celio Somerset Poem

Somersault

Once upon a midnight
At a fireplace in my old home,
I read onto a paper, my knees on wood.
It was a letter,
My good will's final tome.
Sobbing and shivering through my hood,
I had been wounding what was good,
I soiled the happy weather.
To guard a forbidden secret,
To keep my love not freed,
My oath to loving greed.
And in another dark night,
A few days after that midnight,
It had come to my confined attention,
A loss that I couldn't hide any longer.
And he had found the existence
Of my now hidden letter.
It was an order,
An invitation to something greater,
Sent by the higher ups in his ladder.
They called him for work.
They wanted the being that I loved,
That I wished upon,
That I held myself,
That I kept close by.
Love was never fair, regardless the chances.
Whatever the dice rolled into,
I kept denying that I'd ever lose him.
But alas he had found,
Snatched the parchment from my hands.
As his eyes traced the markings of words,
He'd glance at me, from time to time.
Before he could cut the silence,
I did first,
"It isn't fair!"
Why couldn't anything be fair?
I knew he'd choose the glory light over me.
I shouldn't have kept us in delusion,
But it wasn't just me in that illusion.
Is it wrong all along?
It doesn't feel like living
To hide my reasoning,
And it never felt good
Because the truth felt like an affair.
It was suicide,
It was torture,
But we used to be happy.
Yet, I destroyed something precious,
I threw a bomb upon our glass dome.
And the smoke from it's shattered explosion,
This anger,
It's fading the loving haze.
And I know,
I just know,
That my musing in prison,
This lonely illusion I called endearing.
I know it's come,
Like a beast at me,
To come and end me.

Details | Celio Somerset Poem

Like None Of It Matters

Hold your hand in mine,
And my heart with yours.
Give it a squeeze then
I'll tell you how it felt.
Write upon mine with pens,
Kiss it while it melts.
Betting all on my emperor,
Hold me like nothing matters.
Lick the fire and shadows,
Draw on the burns and scars
As we dance downtown in cars.
I bite rocks in the meadows,
Break my teeth, my skin unraveled,
Patch them with smiles I borrowed.
Waiting in my bleeding homage, I'll
Meet you where the Sun cascades.
Dance with you in space where
Stars are born till they're nowhere.
But if it all rewinds before that day,
Before all was lost in Summer May,
I might hold onto your hands,
Sink my claws beneath its lands.
I'd look into your eyeing gates,
Ask if you'd play the same role in faith,
Would you love me again and again,
If in the end none of it matters?

Details | Celio Somerset Poem

After Love Falls

I didn't know you'd pass when the moment did fly by
But you'd win the award for tearing up my mind, and I
Kiss upon the colored water that carried me in a remedy
As you held my rose thorn stung heart with warmth like a legacy.
I trace the path at the side of the bedding you've left me,
Wondering with the stars in my prayers, "Why leave me be?"
I've been standing in the doorway, confused but I keep thinking.
Went fighting to keep myself from hoping for something fleeting.
If my bones were to break from the cliff after my love's done falling.

Details | Celio Somerset Poem

Blue, The Understudy


Walking in the gaps of the dancing snow,
Holding my candle under the moon's glow,
I met the winter's breath, my footprints on the dirt.
I sang the story of my youth, and breathed the night.

I painted a land where the spirit met the heart.
Where I'd push constellations to make amends.
The home I sought, a theater of dreams,
The house for my dying feathers, it seems.

There, I met the woman who wrote fables.
And she sat on a throne in this kingdom.
She called herself the writer of prophecy.
Weaver of dreams, thief of the fates, like destiny.

She embraced me and told me she'd guide my way.
Across the stars, to go through hell and beyond.
We waltzed that night, a dance only she’d known.
Journeyed to a world of her own, in the unknown.

She told me to hold her hand while we danced,
But she held my heart like it was shattered glass.
It cut her too many times, and I tried to heal her.
I kissed her scars while we stared at the stars.

She carried the weight of my endless dreaming,
Chased my enemies, sealed my nightmares.
She cut through to my bones like a knife,
Softened me, dug my graves of truths.

But she took the flowers from my vase,
Replaced them in another's, and named him 'the one.'
She called her muses replaceable, an understudy.
She tossed me around like a bottle lost at the sea.

And I ventured this way through many storms.
I kept casting wishes into countless wells that
I will soon find the 'one', my star, the candle that
Lights my waxed heart, that shatters my glass dome.

And as I waited, my message in the bottle opened.
My rotting cork tugged no longer, and I saw
The person who'd read my paper, my manuscript.
And I sang my fairy tale to her, and she listened.

And there my heart burned, but hers were just ashes.
Her dead candle soul exhaled an invisible wind.
I whispered upon her fading embers, and it breathed.
It became a blue flame, a poem I loved for evermore.

Details | Celio Somerset Poem

Jordan

Miss Jordan —
Are you satisfied?
Living in a world
Where hopes and efforts never collide,
Where all abide by someone else's design.
Would you simply resign?

It's peculiar how you're blind —
Self-imposed by your own mind.
Could you just stop and listen,
See how these plates glisten?
If you rest for a moment, let others see it,
Would they be happy?
Even I'd feel giddy,
Seeing you work to the bone,
Rather than bowing to a lion's throne.

Now look at those plates —
Does the shine stay the same when they glisten?
Then you'll hear, "They're dirty."
Only a little — but it still feels like a missile,
Words that cut, born from your husband's vision.

Dear friend,
Loathe me.
Say you ate me —
I'm no moralist, I admit,
But I beg you trust my selfish analysis:

Caring isn't always loving,
And sometimes, they're only loathing.
You're yearned their adoration,
But can't you see that at last,
You've become a goat in a shepherd's pack,
With a wolf trailing behind your back.

I beg you to stand,
Rise from the truth you turned away,
Believe in your voice before it decayed.
But you wouldn't, even if it swallowed you whole —
Your flesh, your bones,
Your dignity now a feast
For someone else's kitchen.

You'd had lived your life always bothered,
Saturdays spent writing how not to be othered.
And you'd leave me, hanging,
Reeling at the cemetery after your cremation.

When that diary is now in my hands,
I could retell the color of your old devotion.
But you've left me here to beg and envision
A yesterday where your bottles of dreams
Weren't just the threads that held you,
Those that kept you whole,
Before they sealed your coffin,
Your ending at a pillowed cage.

And with a ghastly sigh,
I sat down and looked up at the window,
The crate your vase now hustles.

Miss Jordan
If plates that glisten turn to ash,
Clinging themselves to your cheeks,
Not before they burst your skin into a rash,
If you’ll soon become a sickly mother,
Let's carry the weight of dreams now — together —
Before you waste away from me,
A sacrificial martyr.

Details | Celio Somerset Poem

Possibility

I fantasized of a possibility we couldn't foresee,
a reality I would grasp between my dusted fingers
before it slipped away into the reaches of beaches,
in the shorelines' bays of an emotion that still lingers.

I'd walk with you in the crystal ball of our fate,
encased in a clear dewdrop of peace so undesecrated.
We'd dream of an angel-eyed crimson enclosure,
where we'll hide our daggers and sharp opinions.

That unlawful loving thinking that forged our home,
does its embers keep you warm where I couldn't?
Do you think of me as a lurking burden never known,
or am I the tangled knots in your life you'd comb?

But you keep my heart wrenched and unchanged.
it sinks my hopes but I can't help and figure you'd
leave me reeling for a feeling you couldn't pay,
yet all your kind signs give me shine and disarray.

You fill the gaps dug by my angers, I promise
my hopes aren’t a future unpraised and dishonest.