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Literature Text
I found part of me by accident
in a Parisian cardboard box
with satin rags; purple ink
depicting people and clouds.
Tungsten from the wires
of lightbulb husks.
He kicked my hand when I pulled him out,
my fingers caught up in the blonde.
Here there are boys who count
the golden rings of Saturn,
and retinas that lick up the sunset.
Pictures of Japanese lanterns on the sea-crest
and swarms of orange fireflies.
Girls who do not dot
their I's with hearts,
and wait for iodine skies
with slow, dripping
thunder.
in a Parisian cardboard box
with satin rags; purple ink
depicting people and clouds.
Tungsten from the wires
of lightbulb husks.
He kicked my hand when I pulled him out,
my fingers caught up in the blonde.
Here there are boys who count
the golden rings of Saturn,
and retinas that lick up the sunset.
Pictures of Japanese lanterns on the sea-crest
and swarms of orange fireflies.
Girls who do not dot
their I's with hearts,
and wait for iodine skies
with slow, dripping
thunder.
Literature
Constellation
She is dream dust,
too bitter or wise
for her own good.
A timeless dragon's soul
somewhere inside a
scaled shell, burning
the silence in her bones
alive, honeysuckle sweet.
She collects fireflies only to
set them free at 3am,
crying to an uncaring moon.
& she's begging for the stars
to take her away,
make this house a home
rigged in the sky.
To me,
She is already naked fever
swimming through the cosmos
& I orbit her.
Literature
arise
Today the raindrops taste spicy
my,
how I've missed them.
I've a bad case of wanderlust
And a silver sonnet skyfever,
and I want to be spinning like a planet in orbit.
The blue winterblush tiptoes onto my cheekbones
and I realize:
I'm ready.
Literature
Continue
When the world strikes you down,
Continue.
When your smile becomes a frown,
Continue.
When you stumble and fall,
Continue.
When you wager and lose all,
Continue.
When the world laughs at you,
Continue.
When many becomes few,
Continue.
There's nothing else to do except...
Continue.
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Trying to get my submission views back up to what they once were.
This is a bit tentative, as it's a tad out there (but has a direction and I like it), so comments and criticisms are very much welcome.
This is a bit tentative, as it's a tad out there (but has a direction and I like it), so comments and criticisms are very much welcome.
© 2012 - 2024 FallingAsleepTonight
Comments43
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Overall Vision Originality
Technique ImpactI am not sure as to why you called this Second Sphere, but i'm sure you had your reason.
wonderful imagery. it makes me think of extraterrestial origins and plots.
the third stanza sounds odd. you have a nice rhythm with "Here there are boys who count/ the golden rings of Saturn" but then lose that rhythm in the wording of the next line. I'd suggest shortening it or adding a line to even it out.
it also makes me think that you are searching for some broken memories. memories of a time that one can not quite recall. like with amnesia.
nice ending though, it slows down the pace and makes one sort of melt off into the mind.