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.

Portrait of the Void


These hours are not pregnant
Maybe in reversed tempo
I must be broken to love again
I wake up to the smell of pine needles
The hours of my humanity were edited
Performed memory autopsy
By the impotence of our toppled world
Yesterday or today or tomorrow
Blend into one, like a reconstructed
Holographic life, a quantum signature
With the breath of a fairy
Erected from lost discipline, cheated disciplines
These hours are like a miscarriage
Of all the love we stored in each other
Moments as brutal as magnetic suns
Whose ballet of light is unrelentless.