Gliding on the outskirts of your elements,
I cumulate multiple fractions from you,
Resurrect you from your grain substance,
And construct equations of your being.
Tossed in the pull of shared universe,
Our motions propel synchronous waves,
Vehemently colliding to shatter the atoms
Of our sciences, our spherical destiny.
I tango with you to new spatial freedoms,
Beholding your astronomical rapture
In the perplexity of celestial matters,
Calculated in the math of our touches.
There is an exudation to our jarring,
Stimulating gravitational perspiration,
The interlock of our "power" kisses,
The "constant" of inevitable outcome.
Tonight we drink to Newton's dynamics
And Descartes' systemized analyses;
Draw in a fourth orbicular dimension
To explode in the thrill of space orgasms.
Well, now, whoever you wrote this about or for will enjoy the search through the complexities of language and other subjects.
As ever you pull words into a knot of intellect and beauty .. 'I tango with you to new spatial freedoms, / Beholding your astronomical rapture / In the perplexity of celestial matters, / Calculated in the math of our touches.
I knew this was about sex! Then again, it could just be me and my pseudo-teenage mind hormonally driven to somehow reference everything to sex, but yeah, I liked, got me blushing ;). I'm just kidding I know its about human spirits intertwining and the rapture of emotions when joined, all those big uplifting existential concepts about what it means to be human, larger than life (still had me giggling immaturely). Your poetry is amazing image invoking, it draws me in gently and makes me need to keep reading, usually I hate poetry.
btw welcome back Nihad, I thought you were gone for good.
Well, now, whoever you wrote this about or for will enjoy the search through the complexities of language and other subjects.
As ever you pull words into a knot of intellect and beauty .. 'I tango with you to new spatial freedoms, / Beholding your astronomical rapture / In the perplexity of celestial matters, / Calculated in the math of our touches.
""This poem is like looking at a photograph, taken in the very earliest days of photography, and seeing love in the unsmiling faces and too-bright eyes that were so common in such photos. The poem see.. more..