I am grateful for what you have taught me
This bitter lesson in sublimation
Sweetens when the beautiful breve I see:
Your smile, which could conquer a whole nation
My erstwhile selves would clumsily have tried
To rescue you from mundane tedium
With a cryptic joke or sad attempt to hide
Desire’s surge; a contrast medium
Opaque to the x-rays of your bright gaze
But I am antique and weak enough now
To be immune to the hormonal craze
And acknowledge your beauty with a bow
Gratefully, I accept my beverage
As a reminder now to act my age
About the Creator
D. J. Reddall
I write because my time is limited and my imagination is not.
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Red Shelves
Death is a black hole. Think about it. A black hole is the corpse of a star, something once warm and bright, now come to the end of its life cycle. But some will argue that the cycle of life does not end with death. That death is merely another path we must walk once our bodies expire and our souls ascend. In that moment, when the fuel in the star’s chemical tank hits empty and the shiny matte coat explodes into supernova, the mass left behind – the corpse – becomes a black hole. We understand that, around such a vast cadaver, dimensions work a little differently in death to the way we’re used to in life. For example, light cannot escape the pull of a black hole when it hits the point of no return. That’s where it gets its colour. Space itself is contorted by a black hole. That’s where it gets its funny shape. Even time. Time slows right down the closer you get to it. The closer you get to a black hole. The closer you get to death.
By Matthew Curtis6 days ago in Humans
Comments (7)
Those last 2 lines make me realise I should act like a kid when I order a hot chocolate. Love your sonnet! 💌
$4.35 got all that? That's one romantic cup of coffee (I wish she could know this!) And much respect on the introspectiveness. I like this one a lot because the moment was so simple.
There is so much to think!
But it's so sad if we gotta act out age, lol. Loved your poem!
You can dream, though...right?
Drink it down and try another. Tip well while you sip and watch. 😁
I seem to remember another poem about a server...same muse?