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Ian Jun 2
Are we cosmic—
Or chaos in disguise?
Our love burned bright,
Yet so does my sorrow—
Like the stars,
Still shining
Long after
They’ve died.
benzyl May 30
In a galaxy millions of light years away,

Your visage shines bright, a glistening moon

Its orbit is drawn, its kismet is made

Its blinding departure came far too soon  



Wandering through cosmos in search of your light,

I yearn to break from fate’s dictation

Yet as your figure comes into sight

It shows not truth but imagination



Your orbit drifts further as your visage fades

Your figure dissolves into starless dust

Your eclipse casts my heart under lonely shade

There is no love or hate, only rust



I have not known love but merely affection

I have not known you but just a reflection
For my father, written quite a while ago
Glowing far beneath a band of burning crystal,
He drifted through silence, heartbroken and distal—
A whisper of frost left behind by trailing light,
As the comet passed far above in endless night.

He sang to distant suns, though they raised no refrain;
His voice, just a glimmer beneath the comet’s train.
No orbit, no axis, in his celestial drift—
Just the chill of pale starlight, too distant to shift.

Yet, far on the curve of the comet’s silver flare,
She wandered through silence, though as yet unaware—
A shimmer in motion and untouched by regret,
Her path not his own, though it had not diverged yet.

Though light-years apart in their transcendent array,
A trace of astral longing had altered her way,
Their paths, though still distant, were to cross in the night,
Beneath the comet, passing by in stellar flight.
©️2025 David Cornetta

From my debut collection—If Saturn Should Fall— now available!
Sometimes I feel
like I have so much to say to you
but you're not in my life yet.

I trust one day
you'll hear my words
not with your ears
but in your mind
and find your way to me
not by accident
but by the design
of the Causer of Causes.

When that day comes
I won't need words
I'll just hold you so tight
you'll hear every unspoken thought
through the silence
of my heartbeat.
it passed me by
only reading about
that cosmic marvel
the morning after
not quite a "once
in a lifetime" event
yet some would say
special enough
significant even
to pause and reflect
on synchronicity
interconnectedness
everything

there was a time
where i might have
been disappointed
to miss a sight
as rare as
they claimed this
occurrence was to be;
seven of our neighbours
visible simultaneously
five with the naked eye
the other two with
the aid of a telescope

but i don't
need to witness
a celestial dance
such as this
pointing uncertainly
with uncertainty
at what might be
one of the planets
to be reminded
that our stars
have already aligned
Lynn May 11
He called me a star
But how can that be true?
My light is only there when I'm next to you

My dad calls my mom the moon
It's supposed to be romantic but to me he's a fool
The moon is a piece of rock
My mom is the whole world

He hold my hands
And tells me I'm the sun
I don't believe him
But it is true love
Immortality May 13
The moon listens,
to the ocean's sigh,
both distant,
yet eternally destined.
and they'll continue to live this way.
Perhaps the mountain sings
in centuries, a slow vibration,
a secret rhythm, the grain of its face
etched with the scars of knowing
a melody caught in the depths of time.

Perhaps the river knows
the path it carves, it chisels the stone,
its fingers shape clay, the way it carries
the sky in its restless hands
as an endless refrain toward the sea.

Perhaps the old tree feels
the breath of wind, a warm morning dew,
its earthen embrace, the weight of autumn
pressing on its weathered leaves
in quiet witness to the season’s tune.

And what of us,
woven from dust that once knew the stars–
who feel, who think, who sing–
our lives shimmering like heat above the road,
do we carry the old tree’s tune?
The river’s refrain?
The mountain’s melody?

Listen.
The silence is singing.
TheLees Apr 30
A park bench, and
A yellow orb nukes its core
a million times per second in space.
Somewhere, a man spoke his last word,
Or an infant giggled at her father’s scruff.
A black hole light-years away
engulfed another black hole of lesser mass;
the surrounding planets spaghettified.
Yes, this park bench is.
And you,
sit there with a leg over mine.
Wrinkles on your iris orbit a black hole,
visible because of our star.
It's just you and I,
sitting on a bench.
My shape is a puzzle of shattered light,
From a darkness beyond the hands of clocks.
I've floated in crystalline tears through nights,
That drowned my pulse in their quantum shocks.

Once I'd kissed the rim of my own dissolution,
My dreams became ether suspended in place.
Heard echoes from heaven of my soul's exclusion,
Banished to blackness, forbidden from grace.

But my system of nerves, interstellar threads,
Each signal, a hope that I'd lost in the fire.
They reshape the grid of my own waking dread.
I was Disconnected. My perception, unwired.

My atoms, ensnared in this love unaligned.
The flux of euphoria then glitched the code.
Chased every god who tread through my mind.
As my belief in them began to implode.

I transcended fast as a Tachyon verve,
Connecting dimensions with chords of my ache.
My being, potentialized, now unobserved.
As moments of reality shown to me, faked.

With every tremor that left a deep scar,
Is a power evolving my mind, kinetic.
I arrive in the void passed the brightest of stars.
As high, pathetically, as the hypothetic.

♦ Đerek Λbraxas ♦  
"The Quantum Bound Poet "
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