Heres Estrella

More Stars than There are

Tag: poem

Living in A Present End

The Sun rises upon our City,
Shining through
and eventually rising past
the Dust
and Smog of Unspeakable
Terror---

That which some of
US have been Spraying
and Pressing,
with an devilish
determination of Doom,

Upon those defenseless
in our muddy, Earthly
Lot.

You Stand by
the East-facing window,
and Dawn radiates itself
half-muffled,
through our Now
Sedated Sky---

Constrained by its
Silver veneer of death,
Mapped haphazardly
and logically
Overhead.

You Look back
in the Mirror, and
the Silhouette looks
Back sickly,

With Blood-Shot Eyes.

He looks back at you,
as if you were the one
who were dead,

"Have you been suffering obliviously,
If not having had been
Duped
into Half-Hosting
Our Greatest War?

Living one eye blind,
While having lent the other
to play mere Bystander?"

Cup of Starfucks


Give me a nice Cup
of Starfucks:

Quickly procured
and scantily done---

I don't care about all
The Plastic
on my tongue,

So long as Their
army of Robots
churn out The Dope
from Morning
to Dawn.

So pour me
that neat Cup
of Cheap Grace,
A dozen or so ounces
A day,

Easy and laced,

Until All of Our
Bodies Shut Down.

getting even with madness

shadows crawling, sins go on repeating
as you scantily prop your back,
fighting cross-generational
demons.

years without Transcendence
or pure self destruction,
cut out from the fast and easy
perishing---

do you find yourself now
so needlessly harsh,
morbidly crass;
so stubbornly brash?

would opening your skull,
and peeking in to
snap these tense cords
bring you final release?

mute screams, muffled
between inner ears
reverberate and
seep---

until we are nothing
but knots over knots:

finding ourselves
in a messy string.

But hey now---
hey now, hey now:

If we are so Lucky
as to
Carry On Living...

Remember,
Grit your teeth!
trace the harder
route to Release---

Follow the timeless Patrons
of Form and Patience,

And all the while,
.
.
.

Rage.

Plan with fervor;
Desist; Trample if you must---

but Do---
not try but do,

Toss
until chaos
becomes Peace.

4 A.M.

Early dawn birds remain unawakened;
night-prawl creatures resigned to slumber—

your Eyes are afraid
to shut themselves,

Lest you cease to
Stay Alive.

it certainly isn’t true, but
it’s nice to pinch ourselves
a little harder now and then,

and to Imagine
all of One’s Life glorified
in a single,
Victorious Instant.

Take It to The Heart, Please

These days
Are of endless novelty,
Absurdly modern:
High profits for the ones
Who trick passion with
Morsels of jittery confections—
Fast melting, quickly expiring.
Highly. Profiting.

Age of sensational Spasm,
Locked behind which, a long dusty
Book of delayed shame,
Regretfully nostalgic.
We cannot perceive the reality
of how we arrived upon
This existential wilderness,

Whilst being too busy
Occupying our conscious,
Shunning The Truth;

Rather to take it all
Up the Ass—
Than to bite real Peaches,
Causing them to Gush,
To Spew and Bleed—

The Sticky Juice
of Act and Consequence,
Pleasure and Pain,
Dispute and Acceptance:

Will We Ever
Relearn to open up
that rusty chamber,
Neglectfully sealed in our Hearts,
and refill its long-emptied
Reservoir to the Brim
with True Essence and Blood?

Good Set of Eyes

Blessed is thee
For thy watery,
Luminous eyes—

Capture and paint
Moments so rare
and precious
to the more unkind;

Cursed is also thee,
Whose pupil remains
Unsullied—

Too often
Falling prey to
the many hearts
Soiled.

reasons to live one more, the next, and another day

“If I can stop one heart from breaking”

If I can stop one heart from breaking,
I shall not live in vain;
If I can ease one Life the Aching,
Or cool one in Pain,

Or help one fainting Robin
Unto his Nest again,
I shall not live in Vain.

—Emily Dickinson.

.

the best convictions are those that seek to benefit the self the least—they also the ones that shine the strongest in life’s most extraordinary circumstances.

Love at Midtown

I fell
In Love
With a fine,
Young Lady

From the Other
Side
Of town—

She North
And I South—

Two neighborhoods, separate lives,
And both having
Miraculously crossed,

Would never
Once
Be
The same.

Sonnet of Lasting Sparks

Let us love again,
And relive each other
This time,
As one matchstick
Gradually kindles another—

Such as yours—

For two simultaneous
Flames burning
Too close as one,

And too often,
Procures a radiance
Too headstrong
To perpetuate
And to prolong—

Why not let us ignite
Much of our
Unconsumed Love,
Starting only from
One end,
From one torch
At a time, and
Delivering each one
To the next, and
Unto the other—

Only sharing Fires
When the darkness
Gets too strong.

Hold our affection
In Savored rations,
And by embracing
The in-between
Unknowns,
We cultivate slowly
A unbreakable bond

Then,
Then when our flames
Finally ebb
To the Ashes,
Crisp, fine,
And well done,

Buried
Underneath
Will be

A story of Love

That stood
Life long
Against the cruel
Hands
Of Time.

 

Ode to Fellow Aquarius

First curious glance,
A definite presence—
Not flauntingly
Conspicuous,
Vain, or
Cheaply lustrous,

But glaring
As ink
On Snowy,
Unsoiled canvas—

Every distinctive drop
Seeping, immutably
Solidifying onto
Untouched fibers
Of remembrance.

Never a dull
Moment
Persists with you—

Sprightly, animated,
Keen, and poignant;
Bottom of despair—
A Tragic
Iconoclast.

Oh yes,
I see
And
I know,

Out from
A concealed
Vase pours
Your tenuous
Yet
Unbound
Kindness—

Dearly,
You dare
To love all
Earthly kin.

For the very multitude
That is
Exclusively
You,

Sole
Fellow Aquarius,
I love,
Applaud,
And remain
A loyal audience
To you—

For this precisely,
I must learn
To once so often,
Love to Hate
You so.