Terra Nova' Writings

[terra nova]

Will post a piece here, then come back frequently to post more + new ones! Use them if you like(with credit), any critique is acceptable, I appreciate getting poetry and stuff shared in return too. I'm much more of a writer and a musician than a visual artist..
Thanks for existing!

tune in

autumn exerts her influence
and summons chilling showers
kaleidoscopic minions paint the planet
in a gentle shade of mortality

the waters, they come rushing ever further
seeking to wash away her faults
when there are none
only the brine can sink your memories
down, down it all goes
without a sound

eternity presses forth
with every second
we are buried beneath another layer
another sheet of savoir-faire
and you are helpless

these lines scarcely piece themselves together with sense,
I write to the whim
of some long forgotten era
the same era you live in

and like the murmuring
of the breeze
that makes an instrument of the trees
our frequency is quiet
hidden

listen with me
and discover yourself

[jasps]

stop being so good ily

[terra nova]

thanks bestie

Fell

The whipping wind around us whirls,
The sky is dark and darkening.
Upon the air, in chilling taste,
(Hurry now, we must make haste)
An autumn storm is beckoning.

It shakes the world around the trees
And falling leaves around us sends.
With distant thunder echoing,
(The sky has started sprinkling)
We make our way towards home again.

Yet no one can outrun the sky.
For rain has ways of following.
And long at last, the thundering
(The shaking world, its happening)
Has caught us in its grasp.

And through the vale of falling skies,
And through the lightning shimmering—
We run, but off the beaten trail,
(For paths are something rather frail)
In search of somewhere sheltering.

And searching still, amidst the storm,
Until on shelter stumbling—
A little cavern, tucked away.
(Kept aloof from nature's spray)
We dash in, soaked and shivering.

In alcove tucked, and dripping rain,
While Earth outside is shattering.
No fire but our closeness kept,
(To dry the tears the sky has wept)
We watch, in silence, wondering.

[terra nova]

Short: Petals of a Brain Stem

Alice found herself questioning her beliefs. She wasn't sure how exactly it started, but in the night after she turned off the last lantern in her house she would come to believe all sorts of things. Sometimes they were grandiose ideals: heaven and hell, a novel political system she read about in the morning paper, the purpose of life itself. Most of the time though.. they were simply out of place realities. The cover of her bed was blue, not white. The sun did not rise in the south over a glacial plane and set directly above, fading into a dot in the distance.

This isn't a story of schizophrenia, of a break with what was real. No, folks believe all sorts of things for all sorts of reasons. This is simply a tale of what she believed.

With time passing, her vision of the universe stained itself with more pulchritude. Certain thoughts stabilized —some amalgamation of nirvana and purgatory that she called 'the outside'. The notion of candid politics tended to alter until there was nothing more left there to take heart in, like an empty space on a paper otherwise filled with chicken scrawls.

And the sun rose in the east.

At day, Alice was a flower delivery gal, and quite proud of it; she delivered bouquets of blooming plantlife, and felt like she was starting a garden everywhere she went. She'd walk up to a cold, gunmetal office building and every step she took would leave a little ripple of hues, like those movies you see that colorize old, grainy, black and white clips from the early 1900s.

She'd come up to the front desk, watch the weary expression of the evening security guard take on a sort of hesitant hope. Flowers. Following the directions she'd take this elevator or that to one floor or another. She'd deliver tulips and daffodils to an overworked boyfriend of some girl who found her website earlier this afternoon. 'Flower delivery. On price, on time.'
He'd smile, for a moment.

And at night Alice could believe the world was a beautiful place.

[terra nova]

Plastic

spheres in raycast planet
dapple the halls
and a floating teapot
provides an anchor for you
that the rest of the world
can orient around

and you stumble,
crumble, on this frozen still life as a ghost
in some machine, footsteps clangly loudly
yet the universe bears no sound
not here anymore

it never did, really
waves collapse
on the shore of your conscious experience
but you're a toy solider
screaming violently into the sky,
"I am"

and your words disassemble into cliche,
rage, rage against mortality
like it ever makes a difference

[terra nova]

rubber

at mercy of the wind and waves
hanging on by their rhythmic sway
natures buoys
balloons bopping
these tender rubber bodies feverently hopping

lifeless
limp
yet full of colour
large forests of sisters and brothers
holding close
holding one another

so let's lay to rest
on a bed of jade galaxies
those
rippling
radiant canopies
the last sight of many

[terra nova]

Daffodils

When I was young, I picked flowers
from the side of the road: daisies,
queen anne's lace, daffodils
(though everyone told me
they were weeds).

Their stems a sappy mess, I didn't
mind, didn't pause to wonder
if the earth died a little every time I plucked one, every time I placed it in a vase.

Years. Subtle at first, sneaking in
at birthday parties, anniversaries,
dated forms at some doctor's office.
I am the future, they whispered,
don't be afraid,
I was always here.

I'll stumble at some crack in the
sidewalk, find my footing (most
of the time), but some of the time
I'll trip, scratch my knees, like a
record pausing and

see, growing in the fissure
wild, untamed bursts of yellow,
pushing the city apart, slowly,
and I wonder if I'll ever be
as beautiful as the weeds.

[terra nova]

Defined

You are my mercury

Oversensitive
a loving mind
Philoprogenitive
in all it finds

And all I've searched for
all I knew
were just metaphors
naïve and blue

but you were
photosensitive
to my true destiny

Electro-magnetic
alchemy

[terra nova]

i don't know what to call it

dry leaves in January,
autumn has whispered away
I didn't pay attention;
on the air there's a sharp, clear, metal
taste of winter

And then it's spring and the garden gnomes
are stepping, stepping in some river dance
I hardly even noticed

I thought I heard your name, turned
summer has come and the brilliant red
and deep colored skies smell of bonfires

and I'm sitting on some white bench in a vast, aching cosmos
and all around, infinitely, air and void; I no longer have
eyes or fingers to write or feel
the passage of time
is all I am, aching

but no, not for another autumn, no, I crave a deeper piece of the world, infinite and bright
because that's where you lie

[terra nova]

Lost Per Usual

Sand days spread ways for rhythmic feet
Yet he's afraid to climb the dunes
An arctic draft kisses his back
With chilly coos
Of icy hands
Sour in their anemia.
Chlorine stings on fragile toes
Rolling eyes, dancing steeds
Sheltering his chest of gale
He pries away the briny greed
Protection in an open sea

“Where are you?”
My words snatched by the cyclone
But always heard

“Here” he calls
The smack of surf,
Shredded on mossy stone
“Here”
The tune of birds,
Gorgeous strings among the petrichor
“Here”
Soft bass of leviathans
Consumers of stars
Haunting immortality

His energy is psychometric
To search is to toss his trickers
Scorn his hood,
Shrug his coat, his only shield,
And beckon the lingering freeze
purchase on his skin.

He walks upon the stormy sands,
To my call
A task for another day