Enresshou's Bored Poetry

‘It’s a standard procedure, a tiny little thing.’
The hospital begins to fade as dreams begin to sing:
you dream of family, dream of friends, somber and in black
of being carried, like a king, your body lax and slack.
You drift awake and realize that you weren’t within a dream
the smell of dirt grows stronger and your breathing turns to screams.[DOUBLEPOST=1409318839,1409318671][/DOUBLEPOST]We were forged in star-fire, so we know
but that radiant ancestral glow
is often forgotten in the race
of terrestrial lives ever faster paced.

I have no time, I simply can’t
I would love to, that I’ll grant
I’ll write a novel, see a play
one day, perhaps…but not this day.

FUCK THAT NOISE! That is not you
you’re the summation of the suns, born true
of stars long-dead from ages past
in the cosmos’ image your mind was cast.

You are the legacy of galactic fire
the burning song of a cosmic choir
so remember, should you feel unfit
you are made of star-stuff. Act like it.
 
Grad school going that well? (just teasing) Nice poems!
Haha, it's going pretty well at the moment, but I do a lot of molecular bio work. It's the very definition of "hurry up and wait": prepare sample, incubate for two hours, prepare next step, incubate for 30 minutes, etc. I get a lot of downtime when I can't do anything but read papers and such.
 
Came for Enresshous bored party, got poetry instead. Not disappointed.
Much obliged!


Mother Nature’s played her joke, her cruelest one of late:
that our hunger to explore the stars we may never sate,
for physics has a speed limit, with the nearest things too far
and it may seem impossible for man to explore the stars
but I do not despair, for while we’ve so far failed, and that is true
we’ve proven before the impossible is just a point of view.
 
I've often forgotten that I cannot fly
and that these wings are nothing but dreams
that this instinct to rush into huge, empty skies
has always failed me, and so it may seem
that I dream as an angel but walk as a man
and no white-winged savior of lost souls am I
but I closed my eyes, and so it began:
the heartbeat of wings in my thunderstormed mind
tore loose through the confines set by my form
as embers of dream blazed to burn through the lies
and reality blackened as silence was shorn
while my laughter of wings simply echoed the sky.
 
Human genetics of complex diseases. We've got collaborators at UMich (Cristen Willer), and I have a buddy doing his postdoc there too.

/sorry to derail your poems - carry on good wordsmith
Not a problem, and that's awesome! I actually do genetics of complex disorders (psychiatric illness; primarily depression/bipolar disorder/maladaptive responses to chronic stress), but do not know Cristen Willer. High five for one gene =/= one disease!
 
Language has a power, there's a magic within words
that blends the fiction and the fact, reality it blurs;
small miracles upon the page, spinning worlds to life
that are soft as children's laughter and as wicked as a knife.


When I was young I simply thought that gravity’s a game
and that one day in later years I could a victory claim:
I’d take three steps and then I’d leap, above rooftops I’d soar
somehow slip its surly bonds, be earth-bound nevermore.
In hindsight it’s ridiculous for physics’ laws don’t lie
but I’ll never stop believing that one day I’ll touch the sky.
 
When nations fade

I learned today of ancient times, of a country that had styled
itself amongst the greatest with its military guile
they boasted freedom, cured the sick, unlocked the atom’s power
but they faded and, like all empires, time struck their final hour.
They tell of their great feats in school, their place in history carved
but no one knows why this great land would let its people starve.
 
Hey I just remembered that I found the second poem so inspirational that I translated it to Spanish so that I could share it with friends that would not fully appreciate it in English (referencing @Enresshou, obviously!). At the time I was embarassed of my translation and didn't want to 'impose' myself on this thread, and I still don't want to, but I now think it's disrespectful not to share that. So, it's not very good, and I don't know if you'll understand any of it but... here it goes:

Venimos del núcleo de estrellas muertas
Pero ese brillo, esa trascendencia
se diluye, a menudo se silencia
en vidas mundanas, aceleradas, inciertas

De verdad, no tengo tiempo, el día no me da
No es que no quiera, me encantaría
pintaré algo, escribiré una comedia
pero no hoy, algún otro día... cuando pueda

Y UNA MIERDA! Cállate, tu no eres eso
Tú eres de tantos soles heredera,
suma de estrellas muertas en otra era.
Para hacerte ha conspirado un universo.

Eres el legado de un fuego universal,
de un coro cósmico el canto ardiente
y si sientes que no eres suficiente
piensa que eres polvo de estrellas. Que se vea.
 
There was an Ask Reddit a while ago about your favorite non sexual fantasy. I started this poem for it but it didn't come together until now.

One day they asked me for my dreams
ones not of sex but of the mean,
the day to day, the hero's might
a word from those gone from the light;
to have a friend once lost now found
to touch the sky and slip Earth's bounds.
These are my dreams, not real but true
the waking world in the dreamer's point of view
and from all others one dream above:
we are all we've got. So I dream of love.
 
People say that life's a game
although that's not quite true:
there's no continues, just one life
so find the best Player 2.
 
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