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Bardo 8h
Sometimes lying in my bed I close my eyes and imagine myself back there again
Back in my old childhood room, in my old childhood bed
I can see the green nightlight shining on the wall
See the dark outlines of the wardrobe and the dressing table
The moonlight coming in through the window
From the street below I hear a lone car passing
You can hear it coming, then arriving, then gradually fading away into the distance
Then the silence returns
I lie there in the quiet
Then suddenly…suddenly I find myself…I find myself rising
Like out of my body, rising up toward the ceiling
I can look back down and see my physical body still lying there on the bed
Then I turn and I fly right out the window
Suddenly I’m outside and I’m free
It’s dark now, a world devoid of colours, a world transformed, a World of shadows
With the big moon shining over the bay
The flowers in the front, their petals closed…drooping
Their all sleeping now, grown colourless in the pale moonlight
I fly over the shrubs and the flowers, fly over the wall and the front gate
The coast road it is so quiet now, not a sound of a car
Or sight of any soul out walking
It’s late…
So ghostly in the quiet, the outline of the other houses along the street
Just like faces sleeping
I fly over the road and over the sea wall, down the steps to the beach
All the sand and the little shells and stones
And the big rocks just standing there so still and so quiet
Almost like their watching me or waiting on me
As if…as if questioning
I look over at the big mountains of the headland in the far distance sloping down toward the sea
Their great big dark outlines dotted with little lights from all the isolated farms and villages
And there at the very end, the lighthouse, it’s red light winking back at me at intervals
All under a beautiful star laden sky
It’s wonderful, magical looking !  It reminds me of Christmas…the lights at Christmastime.

I fly over the big rocks and the rock pools
Wow! Look now, the sea!  The tide!! The tide is coming in
Like a huge…great army moving stealthily under cover of darkness
Stretching the whole way as far as you can see
Inching its way along, the water filling the little grooves in the sand
Wow!  Just looking at it, watching it, it’s awesome! It’s mesmerising!!
Soon it’ll be joining the rock pools
It’ll be like an army pouring into a city
The water level will rise slowly
And all the sea creatures will start to come out, the *****, the eels and the fish
It’ll all come alive.

So I fly over the silent standing rocks and the strand and the tide that’s coming in heading up toward the village
I pass an open stretch of beach with hardly any rocks
This is where the young families would come
The mothers with their little children to swim and play
But it’s so quiet now…so quiet and desolate…lonely looking
Now the children have all gone
Now there’s only the memory…the echo
Yea! Now there’s only the sound of the ghost children playing, splashing about
Their excited voices still ringing in the air…somewhere
Once as a child I walked these same beaches
I knew every rock
But strangely I can hardly remember myself now
That child I once was
I feel somehow that he left me…left me a long time ago
Old friend we knew each other once, why has your memory faded away from me
Have I changed so much
Do you not know me now or trust me
Am I too scary for you to look at or talk to
Have I sided too much with this world, a world that once used scare and pain you so
You and I, we have wandered far from our old toys
Were forced to play more different grown up games
Had to adopt many guises, wear many different masks
All those things I had to do and those different people I had to become
Just to survive here
Yea! This world it blew us onto many a strange shore,
And now, returning…like an old man from the sea
Weathered and half broken, still with little of any worth to show
Tell me…tell me you haven’t left me…left us
That you haven't abandoned us
Take us with you, we’d rather go with you than stay in this…this empty place
With you there was always wonder, there was always magic…every day
It was always more fun when you were around
…we miss you, where did you go Old Friend ?

I fly on, there’s the old swimming pool
All quiet now, hushed, silent, not a sound
So ghostly, no laughter, no splashing about, no shouts of delight
The night how it offers a contrast to the day
This ghostly world of stillness and of quiet
Of shadows and memories and lost things
And I like a ghost just wandering here
The daylight world remembered from afar as the dead might remember the living.

I fly on over the swimming pool
Now I see the village itself, the street lights and the lights from the pubs still open
A few people out walking along the seafront
Husbands and wives perhaps…young lovers
Y’know I can remember this beach thronged with sunbathers in the summertime
All the colour and the noises
I can…I can remember the wild days, the stormy seas lashing the shore
Remember the high winds buffeting the house at night
I can remember the high tides when the sea would come right up to the steps
Would swamp all the big rocks
All you could see was this huge massive blanket of just blue sea everywhere
And in the Winter time I can remember the snow on the rocks
The snow over everything, so white and clean and fresh, all fresh in the frosty air
And I remember the tranquil Summer evenings, the waves gently lapping up against the shore
Lulling you off to some sweet dream...or dreams faraway.

When I was young I didn’t know what this world was and why I was here
And now, I still don’t know, I’m none the wiser
But wherever I go, I know there’ll always be the sea…
It’s a part of me…these memories, these things I’ve seen
Wherever I find myself, in the heart of a grey city or out in the green countryside
There’ll always be that…that seaside village
Yea! There’ll always be the sea.
I grew up in a seaside village…a seaside village
One time long ago.
Revisiting my past.
I do not like it, Sam I Am, I do not like the quite
Simply keeping the mind busy elevates the possibility the personalities wont riot
As a particular thought client takes centerstage the voices get defiant
Internal chaos runs rampant, so prevalent one finds oneself reliant
Negativity plays with anxiety out in the open in spite of the velvet lined casket
The soil tilled from conception permitted the growth of this poisonous plant
That sprung up out of nowhere, ill prepared, on an almost alien planet
Body longevity becomes insignificant when the need shifts to a mind and soul transplant
Whether a desired life or one deserved, you can't keep it like a secret, people are going to catch a peek of it
The remedy is absolute though illicit, hell, what isn't
The catch?
It's permanent

©2024
Love me for me
or
Bow out gracefully
Schedule to leave me be
For the rest of infinity
If you're not going to do it discretely
And sever the ties neatly
I beg you to erase me entirely
Label me the falling tree
And I'll go quietly
Consider that a final promise from me
Or a threat if need be
Depending on if you need me to be the enemy
If there's any particular story you need to re-weave back into your foggy memory
Then sure, feel free to rewrite history

©2024
As my back rests against the wall, I lift my fabric slowly and let it fall
Slid down and listened to dust hit the ground
Watching specs float like space, a new frontier
Let it fall, gravity run and dry these two blunt tears.
Cradled by soundful quiet, an octave below measure
As the dust writes my ledger, a lesser letter
To those who miss the Hidden Jester
Jeremy Betts Jun 4
I'm saddled with a basic logic
Still I dared to assume most who could get it, would get it
Might get it?
Should get it?
I don't get it
Forget it
Look at this nightmare that's gone unchecked, it's pathetic
A lost faith in the general public
You'd think it'd matter who done it but it doesn't
No one's above it
The simple seems problematic,
What do you hear in the static,
Voices in an attic?
Gotta keep that quiet
Tone it down a bit
Everyone's super understanding here on the internet
But watch it can change quick in private
THAT'S what hurts the most, THAT'S what's unfortunate
THAT'S the embodiment of evil adherent

©2024
I S A A C Jun 1
each cycle ends but i cannot pretend
a part of me doesn’t pray to see your hand at the end
create spaces for you to soak in my head
misrepresenting everything in hopes of the best
keep it quiet and only unravel in my diary
keep it silent and pray nobody can see
Spicy Digits Mar 4
My voice is not sick.
My heart does not lack charge
And my fingers rest beautifully.

My wires are impeccably engineered.
My brain is alight with knowing
And my belly, understanding.

Tell me, what does yours say?
Does it lie to you?

Our voices are not sick
Our words are not misguided.
We simply know you well,
And suffer for it.
Steve Page Feb 25
Why can't they invent silent tech?
Design tech that bit closer to quiet?
Why does it need to hum or to whine
to constantly remind me
it's watching, listening, waiting,
biding it's time,
denying me the silence
that might breed peace
... or perhaps simply echo
my emptiness.  
(Thank heavens for tech.)
Silence is rare here.
Dylan Feb 18
Splotches of sky,
daubs of fuschia and white idle above.
A cottage near the stream, our soft painted dream,
and ripples of blue.

Watercolors,
silver mist blurs the mountainside.
Rows of emerald pine, our hidden divine,
and beads of limpid dew.

Echoes of dawn,
a cool gale of the nearing spring.
Awash in teal blooms, our calm wooded womb,
and memories of you.
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