mars circa 2092


24

between arms of sand
and idols of soul
the pioneers had no place

to come together
like a pre-dawn era
of a Martian humanity

global warming was stranger
than fiction for earth
her oceans as snap-shots

of an ancient woman raped
the women of Mars were different
violently passionate for a new world

to save a new society
from the same mistakes of earth
naked is the mind that remembers

history, and ruin, and greed
relentless is biology
to progress, to adapt, to shine again

the unreality of surviving
cosmic events, bigger than decades
caressed by lucrative futures

the buttocks of the testimony
towards a body of divinity
the whirlpool of disappearances

was a common phenomena
extinction points dotted history
along untouchable horizons of what was

what occurred here, the solstice of cities
bizarre pleasure founded cities
in an a rise to luxury that was to be

a consumption of all resources
who knew, it was to end on these
martian plains, the new children

a strand in the language of the tree of life
where body spilt with the sweat of ancestors
a slow terraforming, invention of a true colony.

history of man


22

If man is dust
those who go through plains
are men

if woman is jewel
those who visit unanimous beauty
are women

so fond of travelling
so fond of creating
i did not drink plenitude in vacuity

i only witnessed it there
a while, until my bones
melted like popular seeds

gazing at the sky
until the turquoise heights took me
and i was a child once again

looking out into the sea
ready to pull the curtain
on this immense forest of breathing

murmuring with a hundred desires
if humanity is a need
those who act and speak

must be human, at the dance of hours
at the brink of extinction
phantoms of what were once corporeal creatures

soldiers in a manipulated biology
i write knowing what the world
is becoming, an organism

of a most probable quantum machine
a lost algorithm of evolution
that grasps the lonely form of what
it feels like to be alive.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Glance-of-history-106320648

cosmos osmosis


21

i want to go beyond the ordinary
moments scatter themselves
like a dream that never truly wakes
i have slept the dream of stones
and premonition for the light
the magic reflections that resurrect
i have been endlessly falling

since my own birth, i can hear
whispers from the house of death
where fate and the quest for meaning ends
at least for self, day is an immortality
of many days for living’s other birthplace
everything speaks to the dawns
the pulse of life is an inexpressive presence

which doesn’t need us, not me, not anyone
it just advances and retreats
goes roundabout arriving forever
deep among the dream of years
but doesn’t call time, “time”
time is not relevant to that
invisible flowers become visible

a timeless sun doesn’t care for billions
it only caters for eating an orange of light
enormous, as is the life of constellations.