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EmperorOfMine Feb 2021
The black hole is the other side of God's eye.


We cannot travel through and survive because of the limitations set.
Light can escape, as light has cone access that we do not have.
Until we are able to dematerialize and rematerialize while also keeping our consciousness, we will never be able to see what is on the other side.

There are creatures inconceivable to our reality on that side, almost like enlarged versions of bacteria and etc.

We are like cells, complex and working to keep this reality at work.
Our planet is like this.

The core, nucleus. You can go along those lines.


Anyways, we are able to leave this giant version of us, but only when it is accessible.
This could be a theory, or not...
Kliff Thee Poet May 2019
Here is what I was given
Just enough to say that I am livin
Not to much, so I can win
While trying to survive
I learn of what I was denied
To be treated fair is assumed
But that thought too, was lie
Chasing others dreams
Will keep me unseen and I was born to gleam
So I listen no more
And seek the information needed to help me soar
By, C E Cheatham
Yushi Feb 2019
Sometimes the things that control you hold you right.
~cupped inspirations
nick armbrister Feb 2018
Bio
Jimmy Boom Semtex is into many things. Writing is one. His varied work includes poetry, prose and stories on a variety of topics. Erotica like his Fire Extinguisher Man series, poetry on current world events, horror stories and more besides. Jimmy loves getting tattooed, listening to alternative music, drinking beer and living a simple but fulfilling life. Check his Facebook page out. He's working on new ****** stories and a poetry collection. His writing career is diverse and so are the authors/poets/writers he’s collaborated with like Filipina poetess Shy Lhen Esposo and Indian Saurabh Pant. Jimmy Boom Semtex is a pen name of Nick Armbrister.
IcySky Jul 2015
Favorite color: (Neon) Green
Favorite food: Sushi
Favorite movie: Mama or Legion
Favorite movie genre: Horror/thriller
Favorite actor: Jackie Chan
Favorite musician: Michael Mangaroo or Kenny G
Favorite song: Sail by Awolnation
I play guitar and alto sax.
My passions are poetry, music, cooking, and nursing.
I'm Single <3
Comment your answers of your favorite of these things... you don't have to.. wanna get to know my HP family, is all.
(not a poem, I guess)
AS I become adrift into his eyes
I start to see the mystery that his lips fail to convey
He holds a deeper legend then he lets most conclude
His eyes express beauty and tragedy
yet they have this twinkle
that reveals aspiration
for something greater than the history they sustain
When his lips speak
I can’t help but notice
the hidden story his eyes are trying to express.
Does he realize that I can see this?
He has mentioned the butterflies his stomach
perceives often and always glances away
. I want to ask what his eyes are trying to express,
but then I feel as if maybe his eyes are interrogating mine.
I too perceive butterflies and often look away;
why do we do this?
Is it the fear of finally being understood,
or is it that
we are so comfortable with the walls we have built around us
that we don’t want anyone to intrude.
Whatever it is;
it continues to keep me intrigued.
His eyes are a wonderland;
filled with many anecdotes
I
desire
to
figure out.
My favorite piece
Travis Dixon Dec 2011
You either know me, or you don’t.
I’m your best friend, and worst enemy.
I’m bought, sold (new and old),
sought, found, and tossed around.
I get twisted and turned,
mimicked and gimmicked.
I lead you here, I lead you there,
I lead you just about anywhere.
I whisper in your ear, and boom across the sky,
feeding off echoes, savoring my cry.
I’m overlooked and undercooked—
raw as sushi just unhooked.
I’m encrypted and coded into complex clues,
hidden in books and the daily news.
I’m hacked, chewed, shredded and burned,
analyzed and synthesized at every turn.
I’m stronger than ever and growing each day,
collecting, connecting, and creating the way.
Information’s the name, and if life’s a game,
then I’m one slick player with zero shame.
5.6.10

— The End —