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~
Belonging to Eden,
the garden of
inescapable pleasure.

Prepare to fall again
for the pretty things.

The desire to preserve life
lies at the root.

The way of flowers
--let them beckon and bloom--
sincerely upright,
vessels for memories,
methods of communicating
with distant versions of yourself,
a conversation that could
drift into tears or laughter,
personal revelation
or total silence,
depending on the mood.

If only time and thought
could be as perfectly
arranged as flowers.

~
uv 4d
Contentment
Pause
Breathe
Hope
Free
The mind
The load
Slow down
Rewind
Sit back
Intertwine
earn
Your keep
yearn
peace
Contentment
A place
A balance
An emotion
brains are weird,
little mysteries
all filled with
countless, unique
stories,
thoughts,
and memories

jiggly,
squiggly blobs
filled
with everything
we’ll ever
and
never
be able to know

like a jellyfish
filled with random
philosophies,
daydreams,
scary things,
memories,
ideas and plans
and other stuff
that is frightening

gelatinous lil
chubby
blubs
of thought
driving every function,
every aspect of our lives
telling us
when to blink
what to want
how to breathe

i just wish
this stupid
thing in my skull
would shut up
sometimes
and

just

not

think
i referred to my therapist earlier as a “memory archaeologist” as he helps me to uncover the fossils buried deep within myself.
the processe of the
manufacture of thought is
unknown to us all
Mark Wanless Feb 19
the generation of knowledge
a task an event a time period
birthed in ignorance
no future thought just now
over and over creation here
the window of memory closed
on the thousands who first
built fire understanding nothing
except burnt fingers smokey eyes
I am the chalk
of a whiteboard
remaining from
an evening class;
my true meaning
smeared and erased,
a faint memory
merely noticed
by the sparse eyes
searching for something,
anything, to fill the gaps
in their lackluster gaze.
David Cunha Feb 2
**** this aching train
Life's been better than lately
Could have been worse, though
- David Cunha
february 2, 2024
4:03 a.m.
Man Jan 26
In the grass, snakes lie
Fangs bared, ready to strike,
Slither over consciousness,
Turning strength weak,
As insidious thoughts do inside.
Cause man to pause,
As like a stone;
Movement defies
Hazy tûphos hanging over the fields of your mind
Man Jan 26
What galavants as another,
Stuck out
Always staring in?
What sparks,
What smothers?
To capture a view,
Only to envision?
Walks the tightrope of light;
Cleaving night, like rays of a beam?
Put together by others,
Yet lacks a seam?
Has power, that
Blossoms only as a flower?
Looks upon the empty,
To see something?

Who knows nothing?
Mark Wanless Jan 25
the constellation
of your mind is a matrix
thought now is guidance
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