Stars aglow in darkened universe,

illuminated with a gaseous steam,

I steel my thoughts of when my time comes

to travel the universe and maybe,

just maybe,

hold onto a single star.

her heart was guarded by a steel cage

but steel rusts and turns to dust

her thoughts were composed of hissing steam

a sharp presence, then fading away

her mind was a rickety gate

closing and opening upexpectedly

her gaze was as sharp as a pair of scissors

though sometimes blurred by tears

her voice had a faint shine to it

like the silver bracelet looped around her wrist

her soul was a star

everything, everywhere

Wer are not children anymore, staring up at the stars

We have to face the fact, can’t put are feelings in a jar,

Were old enough to know were not superstars

Were old enough to know the world has there scars

We know water and fire makes steam,

We know nothing is as it seems

We know most people don’t get there dreams

The wold in its hole is completly extreem

We know were not made of bricks and steel

Its not fare but yet its real

We have people in our life no need to conseal

We have to face the way we feel

steam off the

morning grass

a kind of watery glass

in steel beams of light

touching stars that

won’t come out till night

the sun shines from space

drying up dew

a special kind of grace

leading me back to you

Write a poem or a piece of short prose using the words steel, steam, and stars ~

* * * * *

"Diana of the Dunes"

Steel of Diana{a}

Great singing glacial steam mounds,

Skydecks of stars' sand ~

* * * * *

/ n o t a r e

{a}: Diana of the Dunes Dare - "...see the abrupt line of contrast of where industry and nature collide. Or...turn your regard to the delicate, diverse rolling beauty of...dune succession and its fragility," (Indiana Dunes National Park, NPS).

Link to partner listing: https://www.indianadunes.com/explore-the-dunes/indiana-dunes-national-park/ddd/

-----

@bykaileyann

HEDERAREADS.COM

The stoplight blinks.

Rain runs in rivulets across the pavement,

downhill. Slanting towards the drenched

earth, the eventual eternal grave.

And yellow puddles in shining smears,

reflections in the water, runny

memories of the streetlamps up above.

A concrete slab overlooks the river,

with two hands set firmly on the

steel railing, holding on.

Unwilling to depart.

The gurgle of an engine, sputtering.

Turning over and over and over

like their stomach. They watch the

car choke, watch the steam rising

from the exhaust pipe.

Rain has soaked them to the bone,

the car roars and the stoplight

floods the puddles with streaks of

red light. It pulls away, splashing

water, ignoring the light, taking

the sound with it.

Silent, as the reflections of the

night sky blur into the ground,

into the river, into their very

soul. Night becomes the air

becomes their clothes, hands,

neck. They try to keep their

head above the surface as the

unending night slips into a

watery reflection of blackness

and stars.

When we picked berries and chewed on bones,

And covered cave walls with lively earth tones,

When we first broke bread with wolves and goats,

A new world was born in our brains, our throats,

After we'd seen the night sky and connected the dots -

Gods lived in the stars, and they loved us lots.

Then some time passed, we changed, as you do,

We came up with steel knives, vaccines, and kung fu,

We phased out horses in lieu of coal and steam,

And we didn't stop there - now our machines

run on pure lightning. We've been to the stars -

They can't nurse life, and don't care about ours.

Some people lost hope, and looked at the ground.

"So that's all there is? That's all we have found?

Just rocks and hot gas? No profound meaning?"

But they missed the point. Guys, we should be beaming,

Just look at the night sky and connect the dots -

The meaning's always been here, in our thoughts!

I used to write letters to the Man of Steel and wear a superman t-shirt under my everyday clothes. I would pray to the stars above that one day I'd get a cape and sail through space with ungodly control of my perfectly gelled hair. I would help people and beat up bad guys and win awards while walking through New York City without a single tip that I was the man of the hour, savior of the century. And sure, I'd get steam-rolled if kryptonite was a matinee feature or if some day, facial recognition exposed Clark Kent, but I'd always get the girl and I'd always save the day.

Then, I grew up and I wondered how he didn't grey. How he didn't seem to nurse his muscles back to health every night or beg for a day or a year off. How it must have been exhausting when the girls sort of understood and the guys didn't get it. How Superman must have been lonely and Clark Kent lonelier. How reading the comics might have helped clarify this, but how little time I had to invest in his character arc when I didn't even have time to make a premier.

Times have changed. I don't pray for capes because I get my wisdom from Edna Mode and I refuse to gell my hair for fear of its flamboyance and flammability. I'm still into girls and I still hope for awards with treasured anonymity. I accept that kyrptonite gets us all good and that technology is just far too advanced. And, still, I sometimes write letters to the Man of Steel but I don't ever ask for advice- I just inflate his ego a bit and iron flat that old t-shirt while I reminisce old superhero things.

Number the stars

I dare you to try

Each one a promise

A symbol of life

Radiance advanced

Through light years it sailed

To a foreigner in a land

The promise prevailed

Fast forward through time

City scape hugs the sky

Two towers give way

Steel-beamed cross still did rise

For in the darkness

The light still did shine

A heavenly country

All pilgrims will find

Before Earth’s creation

Til the end of all time

The promise goes on

So let hope like steam riserise

#spirituality #existence #hope #poetry #meaningoflife #philosophy

Steam fills the sky

Cloudy stars

It’s the only thing I see.

Patterns

People who are just the same.

But each star in this unfamiliar sky has different steel sided tips

In the dark you see so much more

In the light you won’t notice anything

I will hide it.

I want to tell you my sharp edges of the story.

Let me wade. Through this story.

But through eyes of truth, you see a bit more tinted.

I want you to relate, to know I am not the only one with a bit of a ragged edge hiding behind my shine