ForkWordPoems by Inchiki |
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AstrolabeI calculate a peanut that is the sun sits fathoms apart from roving Jupiter, a speck pummelling the blank substance with no reason to be there, and see the finesse in the detail twixt rock and molten core is escaping the program of the ages and bathing by the crack defiled fire and ice In the crux is planet earth planted out in orbit about a sun smattered galactic hell bending to the universe its will hoping against pyramids that this raft is meant to be that this tool is in our hands hatched for a reason not smoke-jacketed to oblivion or unholy union This spliced - is life through the fire-door in pyjamas, a space walk on the rosary of jettisoned rocket stages, piping the paralysing ricochet of radio beamed thoughts to star afar: who am I? who is there? who is breathing in the dark? Rhymes for a mood, 2007 |
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