Saturday Poetry (late friday)

 

White Dwarf

 We are all here temporary

 And a cup of yours is for a matter of time

 Until you break it

 And all of this imperfect

 And the bones easily break

 Just like a cup

 Indestructible - perfect

Parasitical array

Nefarious reproduction

In the pursuit of lasting

False observation

 

Both past and future

(The second will also not prolong forever)

From order to disorder

Unconscionably, relentlessly

Stop - the red dot.

There must be something endless

Some kind of the abstract

Fantastic and elastic

For a happy ending, At least

Perhaps this little" something"

Somewhere inside the depths?

Inside of that what easily

What easily can break

Perhaps it’s sugar, milk, or honey pot

Or lemon, or that bloody sweetener

Although the fluid is too hot

Too hot to make it infinite

Your something’s immaterial

It’s independent, blatantly existing,

Beyond the words and stroking

The answer infantile and dreamily unacceptable, misplaced.

 

Why do you want to last so long?

Why do you give a shit what happens after all?

Just drink from the cup of yours,

With pleasure, surely slurping

Until it breaks apart, until it’s gone, while it is full, while it is yours.

 

 

(Azlanova indeed)