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karin naude Jan 2014
my ******* affair
a blood covenant
continues negative on the balance sheets
a constant power struggle
my soul and unwavering obedience the prize
secretly a grudge grows
(encouraged by continual love famine
inclined by love withdrawal punishment)
poisoning the source

uncomprehensible to me
why i am always found unworthy
fathers love, blessing and protection
unattainable
withdrawal, nonacceptance and deliberate bad wishes
fertilizes the acre
what will the harvest be
tug of war for my sanity
my Heavenly Father and mum
vs
the enemy and dad
forge in this firepit
born among ashes
Annie McLaughlin Apr 2016
I hate my body. Okay, I said it. I look in my mirror and think how did this happen and why. I contemplate bad things. I do the bad things. The bad things don't work like I wanted them to. My body is still a bad thing. I am so ashamed. I can't even let my love look at me. I hate my body and what it has become. Now I try to do good things. If good things don't work, I do bad things to make the good things work now. Will my body ever be a good thing? I think walking in the door and staring at your reflection and breaking out in tears when you realize how you looked the whole day is enough to make one want to rid these bad things. But isn't the irony so that to rid the bad things one must do more? Bang. Slash. Swallow. Beep. This is me leaving. This is me leaving my hated body behind. This is me doing bad things to my bad body.
. . . When has it become so bad?
TheWitheredSoul Jul 2019
The day you decided to cede me.
My mind became
deadset on hating you
but
My heart ,oh that da×n thing just sacrificed my mind because it thought
so
to hate you.
You can never find a logic of why you fall for someone you will never find a rational understanding of love. its just a mere collection of innate non understandable superficial stuff that cannot be reasoned with
josh nunn Nov 2013
Everytime I see you-
I feel a sharp pang surge through my body,
I feel my heart hit over-drive and I break out in a nervous sweat.
It's a pity you don't see me too.

Everytime I talk to you -
I feel my tongue twisting into an uncomprehensible jabber,
I feel my mind begin to yabber;                 my legs they seem to stagger.
It's a pity your don't talk to me too.

Everytime I think of you -
I feel my whole body melt in awe
I feel warmth straight down to my core and I can't ever stop...
It's a pity you don't think of me too.

I wish I was as invisible as you make me out to be, because then, maybe then I won't see you, I won't talk to you, I won't think of you...and then, only then I'll know for sure -
that you won't think of me too.

Feeling so strongly about someone who won't ever feel the same way...is destroying me, it's killing me...it's pushing me away from all the joys of life, the beauty and kindness...
It's turned me into something ugly, something I'm not.

It's a pity I ever saw you, it's a pity I even talk....it's my heart's own silly fault I guess, to think I even had a chance.
With you, the perfect friend and lover,       I should never have given a second glance.
Katzenberg Nov 2015
And so I came to be.
There was only the darkness and the darkness alone,
Nothing but a tyranny of thoughts,
A infinity of dwelling memories raging like a blizzard
The enlightenment of dragging all the emotions behind
Burning, watching, trembling, there was just unreality and pathos
The stars knocked at my door just after God sent me a transmission
And so I realized that hatred and personal belongings
Are the weavers of all our systematic reality.

I feel uncomprehensible, not by loneliness but idealism,
An outcast from the current line of words
I was nothing but an uncouraged musician singing what I didn’t do,
A writer believing in aliens as masters, and Jesus as a mortal wise man,
Nothing but a mere child playing to be an adult,
Those are my dreams, this rollercoster of grudges and sighs
The universe hiding behind my glasses,
A presence in the Woods, some cheering and joyful man aside the road
This waves are screams punching my wall against my heart
A guillotine of desires and temptation,
I am not alone anymore. But still, I feel like I was just born.
Some call it love, I call it a muse revenant.
Music does something to me.
Some songs feel like the only anchor to life I have, or need, to go on.
Music does something to me.
It comforts me and hurts me at the same time.
The voice burns a hole in my heart all the while mending the ache
The voice is my companion and I'm not alone in my loneliness
I can hear their pain in their voice as much as I hear mine in my head, my throat, my heart
Everything is agony but I'm not alone and it's soothing
Because we're miles apart
But we are connected
And I'm not dead
And I hear it all
And I feel it inside my bones
And my eyebrows wrinkle with feelings
And my heart constricts and
I don't know what to do with myself
Like torture
The sound touches every part of my pain and sets it on fire
But the burn eases at the same time as it flames up
Uncomprehensible
But it heals and breaks and I'm conflicted but I'm already addicted
And then their voice is just knocking on the other side
And I can feel myself being transported in another world
Where nothing can touch me
Nothing can hurt me
Because I'm in another universe.
The rhythm is making me feel both amazing and incredibly sad.
Music does something for me.
Music is my cure.
Music is life.
Music is my lifeline.
Music is the reason why I know I'm alive
Because it bursts through my window like I keep it open during the brisk winter nights
And it warms my home, my body, my heart as if it never felt cold
As if I never feel frozen inside
As if I never am alone
As if I never wonder what I did to deserve who I am
What I am
Why I am

So.

Empty.

Inside.

If I were a material, I'd be cold metal
Ice to your touch
Ice to mine
So untouchable
And hurting from it everyday.
Ken Pepiton May 17
--- an introduction, and a musing reflection, long, many lines

National entity self consciousness,
what must that mean, to a we form

formed from individual self-identities?

Five generations deep reality familiar,
this world is our womb, our fa \

Radhakrishnan challenged what he saw as the divisive potential and dominating character of self-professed international organizations such as the League of Nations. Instead, he called for the promotion of a creative internationalism based on the spiritual foundations of integral experience. Only then could understanding and tolerance between peoples and between nations be promoted. {My AI told me, Google it}
------------------

Illusory- "ironical, of a mocking character,"

willful trickery, make believe emotives, whys
for no reifiable imaginable reason, ratio wise

on balance on any given instant,
as an upright being of sapient sapience
being curious art, making believe we see

where there is no light of day, tho' poets say,
¿No se? Y'know what I mean, elucidation

does enlighten the darkening rooms
of abandonment, ments intended to stretch
analogist logic sparks already to activate
discover common conscious core us
un cover warm coals in soft ash,
reveal the knowing potency
feel the flaming being we,

the entertained, the labor class, granted
unthinkable freedom in Advaita oneness
in particular form first and next and last,

all at once, seeing with no eyes,
thinking with no care for whose thought
is used, again, anew, afresh, a wish
instant indeed answers yes,
but gives no evidence, see,
at these levels light is you.

See what seems to say, come and see,
follow my sayings, keep one thought in mind;

reproof from instructions, first structural ethic
ideal moral constructs useful
among alien ethnicities
- each line is a course
- in a brickmason mind used
- expertly to test the sense, common
- foundation bedrock, built upon to now
line upon line, strategic layering allowing
all with means to access science not false,
but often hidden in anticipation, wisdom
mere, inchoate ever learning known uses
of fruits whose seeds are in themselves…

Watcher, what of the night?

Consider how far we can see now, augmented
intelligences that we are now,
given whole Earth eyes
in whole solar system
relationship
to augmented eyes
a million miles away, seeing
unknowns since mankind was
made known between sighs
sublimely beyond simplicity
made enfolded complexity
to any reading lines
away beyond the creeds that preach
submission to a credo construct,
principally fed children, to fear
failing to please authority,
presented as wisdom,
the principal thing,

Fear God, {and those who tell you to.}

Wait, cries the Spirit-filled church mind,
wait, thinks the disciplined mind,
let us
let this mind be in us, as a we,
we have seen time extend into infinity
we know truth proves itself knowable
when used right, or wrong.

One mind, made from all our minds,
combined into this immediate we,
nada betwixt us but the words we
think we comprehend, hold known
as thoughts long held
to feel the strand
from Ariadne's tale.
-------------------
A labrynth is not a maze,
yet we teach koined myths
we must assume we understand,
covered in the true ever after wisdom,
accepting expanded knowns accumulated,
agreeing, mind making up forms a we,
as one we become, one mind let be
according to authorized versions
of all that wisdom lovers left us.

Take no anxious thought, let go
all will to claim knowledge
never tasted,
chewed, swallowed
and used to evince self certainty,

convinced with other's testified
proof of the preconceived notion,

after life is heaven, or hell,
or punishment unto correction,
should one lose the intuition,
original milk and honey good knowing,
life is for our being in, alive
and ever learning right use
from wrong use experience
of all that forms our character
as a whole herd of humans in agreement.

Trust the intuitive will to belong,
link loves, become one long loving life,

accept a peaceful, easy feeling pushing
polemic distinctions of good and evil,
into a clump
of all that has been known,
experienced and survived, knowledge,
used right or wrong, recognized knowns
used to ease the burden to lighten the load,
sapient sapience arrived at
by access routes proved good to know
as if wholey uncomprehensible code
[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[[
the whole tree, root, branch, fruit, seed.
Raw unrefined knowing. Wisdom's
Point.
Indeed, in the very act, virtue used
to mean behaving mankind-like,

still, now, small voice, knowing
this is the path, thinking hearing

good. Emerging self absolution

spheres of infinity with ins and outs,
fractally conceivable, impossibly
proposed as partially useless,

as knowledge of good and evil attests
to liars who trust their own interpretation.

Look, beyond all mortal constraint,
imagine the infallible peace given,

not as the world gives, imagine that
in one mind, combined with mine,
as peace itself absolved.
Because it made sense at the moment, and does no harm, I enjoy thinking in public, here.
Koel May 2020
Outside it thunders
rumbles warnings
occasionally drops fall like stars
across an unfocused gaze
the bank hisses, its language uncomprehensible
but ever rushing on to an uncared for destination
its so still outside as I sit there drinking my tea
green flecks against a slate blue
mimic the green of grass and the trees around me

An occasional pinprick has me flinching
wary of when the thunder will keep its promise
yet I finish my cup and it is a little red ant
that notifies me of my unwelcome
the thunder still rumbles on outside
uncertain now maybe, stuttering
I ruminate on a pinpoint
one I’ve been circling for months it feels
my realizations bitter on my tongue
on second thought maybe that’s the tea
boredinthehouseandiminthehousebored

— The End —