Emily Beck

The Universe Bores Of This Experience - Poem by Emily Beck

Our backs down and bellies up..
The sky. Brilliant in its night shades.
With a thousand stars to match.
Laying in silence, many things could be thought of it.
Mostly stray thoughts and memories,
When the flashing green light of a smart phone
Reminds you you have forgotten the world,
And it's trying to reach you.
What an annoyance, all you people.
Badgering me.
Badgering us.
I suppose he enjoys it, the flasher blocking out star-lights.
Whatever, huffing in the depths of my subconscious,
I suppose there are those born to be alone.
I suppose I am among them.
Stray thoughts, nothing in comparison to the glory above us.
Now you too are gone as the planet shifts and spins.
My brain repetitively ignores your absence,
And someday soon I'll forget altogether, like all the others.
I have become entangled in the pull of the stars
As they guide my thoughts to distances unreachable,
Like some kind of genjitsu, accept
I'm afraid to open my eyes and return to reality.
Reality is stark, cold.
Full of the skinny, with immature bones,
Slightly protruding from beyond the skin-line.
Full of tearful babies, and fearful animals.
Too full.
But here I cannot describe, my illusion.
It is not so happy - rather, empty.
I enjoy the lack of chatter - err - complaining...
About the silly, petty things, mundane,
As if you care about my day to day.
Suddenly the illusion dissipates.
Cracking at the edges to form
Slender pieces of yellowy-gold glass.
Jittering, my body opens up from above.
It's as if the sky was falling
A thousand little pointy shards
Of yellowy-gold glass.
Rocketing towards us - burning flames off the back
As they enter the atmosphere.
So sharp and powerful, of no substance known to man,
Beading towards the surface into bubbles with a blade,
And with perfect aim smashing into every brain of humanity.
Accept me. Probably because it's my realized dream.
Realized into reality.. That is. And so I lay on my back
Watching the stars dance around like an octopus.
Ahh, isn't it quiet.

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Poem Submitted: Monday, March 25, 2013

Poem Edited: Thursday, July 11, 2013

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