Moon dust fills my shoes like water to a glass;
The dark is full of light; but it's burning out fast.
I can see ghosts of stories untold;
I can see youth in faces so old.
The sun doesn't reach me here;
I'll never feel it's warmth again; I fear.
I'm light years ahead of where I thought I'd be;
A singular atom; alone in the galaxy.
I am the life on Mars;
Something you'd imagine fabricated.
What's the limits of your imagination; how far?
How far will you go to feel emancipated?
I am the rings of Saturn and the many craters on Jupiter;
I'm a body of water with no name; an anonymous river.
As long as I stay firm and free;
I am the beating heart of my galaxy.
There's no wind up here or even nature for that matter;
No heat or warmth or rain; not even a pitter-patter.
Astronomy calls my name in the dead of earth's bounds;
I am the tastes; I am the feeling; I am the sounds.
Universally speaking; there is no history;
Just a planet-less man with his story.
I've set foot in countless black holes;
Only to find newfound; passionate worlds.
I've been thinking out loud to preserve my sanity;
Is earth a black hole or is it it's own galaxy?
I am the life on Mars;
Something you'd imagine fabricated.
What's the limits of your imagination; how far?
How far will you go to feel emancipated?
I am the rings of Saturn and the many crates on Jupiter;
I'm a body of water with no name; an anonymous river.
As long as I stay firm and free;
I am the beating heart of my galaxy.
Should you look outside your bedroom window tonight;
Maybe you'll see a shadow of a man besides the American flag on the moon; you just might.
If you see him, I want you to wave;
That just might be the only human contact he's had for days,
months or even years.
It gets so lonely up here.
But, just know, that this place; this, astronomical place, is what my dreams and my nightmares are both made of;
Something perfectly imperfect; it's mine, after all.
Life on mars is not something we should shy away from;
It could be the beginning of something wonderful; the beginnings of a redemptive wrong.
I'll find a sanctuary in this space,
I'll reverse the retrograde.
I am the life on Mars.
I am the remnants of Pluto.
I am a work of art;
I am yours to know.
YOU ARE READING
BOHEMIA
PoetryBOHEMIA 🌷🌼 An abstraction of creativity. Deeply rooted in the harrowing aspects of the human condition, my twelfth poetry collection, 'BOHEMIA' is a darker yet stark, poetic exploration of nature versus nurture through a poetry collection ri...
