A poem about being a survivor of multitudes

Photo by Karen Awaida on Unsplash

White daisies and dragonflies
sends sparkled starlight
across my eyes.
Duopolies in my soul to battle
blank pages of my heart that’ll
inscribe muse’s pining foresight
as midnight tomb stars
explode varying idioms,
from a barfly’s slackened tongue,
inebriated oath and bets
upon a gambler’s podium.

With majestic cecropian eyes and rose peddled bourbon lips the birth and the death amiss between tomorrow and oblivion the mirth of wonderments tombs and cradles life and fables a once-dead heart to beat again to salvo and sing and dance…

A poem about spending time to dream

Photo by Maria Afanasyeva on Unsplash

Sometimes I count the edges on the ceiling and with each pointillistic cosmic effigy I begin to connect these vertices until a coherent image emerges delicately. I give them names and personalities I give them stories, backgrounds, and tragedies I give them love, loss, and redemptive maladies just like I give all the faces at the supermarket or strangers passing me by in downtown Lincoln. With the wistful eyes of a hawk, I feel their obscure weeping tell-tale hearts. Always wondering if it’s better this way? Better to be the writer than the written. Better to be the observer than…

A poem about the end of our four-dimensional reality

Photo by Daniel van den Berg on Unsplash

I saw the end of the world
at cypress hill
truth is,
it had a sort of an intrepid shrill.
A bluejay conquering
a tree-limb soul departing.
An old man walking on
railroad lines,
whiskey bottles clatter
filling entropic cracks
swelling an eclipsing street lamp
with laughter,
not meant for me,
toothless grin as he
looked me in the eyes
And said,

A lyrical story-poem

Photo by Museums Victoria on Unsplash

I was born in the Nile,
and baptized in the blood of gods.
I was raised by a pack of wolves,
a heartless killer I’ve become.
I lived in the pyramids of Egypt,
there they praised me like a Pharaoh,
and I lived like Ra.

Well, the gods, they made me immortal,
to stand before death and laugh
Well, the gods, they feared my power;
they trembled at the sight of my lands.
Cause I’ve fled the seven plagues
and even survived the ones, I’ve made.

Lord oh! Lord, can you ever forgive a man like me? Lord oh! Lord…

A poem about everythingness

Photo by Rob Pumphrey on Unsplash

Raindrops splatter circular life
across a dried savanna.
Hunger, beset upon a rugged land,
knows violence and kindness,
and the swaying cacti dance.
Lightning crackles heavenly rage,
and thereupon the edge of day,
mighty chance walks from its den,
searching for the last signs,
of predators — even prey.
I know this place,
this wasteland of man,
where dried sage,
crackles like sea glass,
as the last scorpion,
scuttles across,
a dusty graveyard.

When you look at me I know who I was who I am and where I am going, along the path of love and growth, Death and…

A poem about inevitabilities

Photo by 𝓴𝓘𝓡𝓚 𝕝𝔸𝕀 on Unsplash

I sent a prayer,
to an equation,
to solve the weariness
of living.
Incalculable despair
and 1/0 nightmares.
But all my moments
have now diverged or digressed
from you,
from the place I regret.

I don’t have faith
in mortal love stories
or heroic quests
to save my soul.
I don’t have trust
in the code written,
in my neural space
without doubt,
without indignant hands
of entropy and time,
squeezing nihilistic truth
from my Buddhistic light.

There was a house with a garden and a dog. There was a couch, a kitchen aroma, fingers coiled, dreams shared, in your…

A poem about the fundamental reality of the heart

Photo by Vincent Botta on Unsplash

I wish I were a quark,

strange and charming
colors far hidden
from your eyes.
Excitation of fields,
pebbles on a pond,
dreams echoing
with subatomic lore
and quantum love.

I wish I were a quark,

so I would not have
to watch
my quantized heart
break again.
To not be chosen
once more, as darkness
pretends to care,
in the twilight of
my mourning,
I wonder what ghosts will
be there to force,
my eightfold way?

I wish I were a quark,

to take my strange mind to singularities to never be alone. For even a neutron has…

A poem about transforming your pain and hurt into beauty

Photo by Lucas Benjamin on Unsplash

Is sorrow just mine,
or is it shared
like wind over a prairie
or a child’s smile
without care or worry?
And I wonder,
do you feel what I hide
I wonder,
do you know,
what I weep about
in the cold of a night?

Is sorrow light strewn
across space and time
given to a billion year
journey, without a friend
to share its mighty days
of bewildering obscurities,
Across the seas of danger
or valley’s to interchange her.
And yet here I stay
in the distance
warmed only,
by a fool's hope. O! such
a beautiful thing.

Here I am despite a thousand flaws

Photo by Lance Denny on Unsplash

I stand below a blinding light
and strip bare my soul
naked but never terrified.
I don’t fear my end anymore
only losing you again.
What lies behind,
and comes after the metamorphosis
in the way of princes and thieves.
Who I was and could have been
to whom I am longer,
betrothed to pretend,
that I am nothing but an echo
with a last name almost faded out
a thousand generations
in my eyes and skin,
woven into my DNA,
is the curse of a family,
yet made.

A thousand deaths, and here I take a single breath Trembling…

Bradley J Nordell

Quantum physicist, science writer, explorer of the mind and philosophy, fiction writer, poetry, and creator of worlds. Find me on Twitter @bradleynordell

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