What is happening right now
Is there a chance to understand
How everything is linked somehow
And nothing random makes more sense
Prophetic lines – poetic rules
If there’s a future left to know
I’m lost with writing as a tool
Which does affect the very show
There is no way to understand
In causal terms or logic laws
Somehow we are creating sense
That weirdly frames its very cause
It seems that we are woven in
A thought becomes reality
Are minds the place where we begin
To make us dream what we could see?
Is everything deluded signs
Adapting selves in unknown ways
To things that are from some behind
As long as each belief betrays
By making aspects seeming real
Independent from our views
We seem to act just to reveal
The context we’re forced to reduce
But how to think of such a place
Such a condition makes minds sick
We are a knot of time and space
Reflecting within a broken trick
It seems there is no way to know
Whether there’s another way to go
Or not
So are there new realities
Beyond those trenchant causal chains?
Are these new patterns that we see
Or just misread coincidence?
Are we fooled by how we feel?
Constructing by using minds
Interpreting what’s hardly real
How to decide what we could find?
We are unable to describe
What is outside the way we think
We can’t grasp things that we wipe
Out with our mental way to link
We are unable to decide
If there’s another truth that hides
Or not
Abstract thoughts can only reveal
an abstract world to understand
we cannot say what is real
how to detect beyond our sense
Aug 13, 2014
Aug 13, 2014 at 11:55 AM UTC
behind the things that we perceive
there is an untrue reality
that we can't guess 'cause we can't leave
the flat sphere of what we “know” and see
so try to feel what is there
*without really asking how nor what nor where
you'll sense a metaphorically sensed snare*
beyond every possible thought
there is an unbelievable world
that we're weirdly forced to ignore
as long as we rely just on words
so try to feel what is here
*between changing meanings seeming less unclear
in a vague and polylemma-bearing sphere*
a mindful balance opens doors
to a world that's still your very own
you can't know what it has in store
and hardly control the “chosen” known
hope you will enjoy your life
*'cause since reflection's based on impulsive drives
we can't know for what nor if we really strive*
yet, you don't fear your unclear fears
that soon will seem as real as the stars
but born without abstract ideas
you just are the very thing you are
so try to enjoy it all
*since the last veils prevent each others’ fall
to get to know actually means to recall*
Aug 13, 2014
Aug 13, 2014 at 11:23 AM UTC
please take a wide look at this now
at the present where you could stay
and attention may just slow down
the time experienced by brains
find peace of mind within your self
on the way you could live your life
there's ups and downs, but there's no hell
if there's a way where you don't strive
for useless things that you don't need
for senseless meanings out of reach
believe in hidden ways that bleed
beyond your very deepest grief
but there's no guaranty for us
that there won't be another truth
where we stay lost to ***** lusts
we are still the ones that may lose
although it seems it's us that choose
still dreaming within unknown musts
and without any valid clues
driven by (so far) dialectic cues
but take a wide look at this now...
Aug 13, 2014
Aug 13, 2014 at 11:19 AM UTC
(some)
whispering
something whispers
something is speaking
something is speaking to me
something is speaking through me
something that I could never see
besides the written words I hear
wrapped in my very „now and here“
ambivalent but sounding clear
there is this world I'm living in
things are different – curled up within
this world to which I've never been
these words seem to reveal what's made
just by the sense their letters made
while I returned to where I stayed
and I'm still there 'though I had strayed
I was and I am still afraid
to fail as long as I do wait
afraid that this weird chance could fade
rewriting my poetic fate
by guessing it's never too late
just for a brand new mental state
at last, all things that we await
could fall into place and time and sense
that we mindfully create
at chance
but sounding much like thought through plans
suggested by looped confidence
but writing on through doubting hands
what each thought newly understands
right when the whispering starting ends
May 19, 2014
May 19, 2014 at 2:29 PM UTC
distant dreams repeat themselves
right behind my conscious thoughts
but all I feel is fleeing stealth
masking every thought up core
so all I have is an idea
of how to wander between shifts
knowing by not being here
or anywhere without a drift
I am alive - at least: am I?
all is floating through my mind
I see an image, that's a lie
but what is hiding there behind
my ideas and mental fakes
the answer is not mine to know
the question is not mine to ask
construction is part of the show
confusion is part of the show
so I repeat schematic dreams
(repeating weird schismatic dreams)
that were schematized by no
one else that I appear to seem
instancies instead of rules
abstractable by asking minds
after all I'm always fooled
by knowing what I seemed to find
but feeling free since I can make
sense out of dubious words and facts
enjoying every working fake
makes me a living mind that acts
in a world that's far beyond
the ways I can explore by thoughts
but all is blurred since it responds
to what's created in mind first
so integration lames my view
adapting to what I can think
changing within the things I do
framing self-referential links
so integration frames my mind
adapting to what I can think
living within the things I find
born by precursively ringed
ways of experiential links
Mar 3, 2014
Mar 3, 2014 at 7:45 AM UTC
there were some hints of hidden plots
but I'm unable to reveal
I found some separated spots
still unable to tell which link is real
and so I try to analyze
what rather should and must be framed
since all I see creates disguise
that's much too complex to be ever named
of course it has been clear to me
that I can never understand
trapped in the wrongest strategy
but this slight insight it could never end
living within recursive strains
and sensing that there is a sense
more valid than just causal chains
but only describable as weird chance
so all foretelling must stay vague
and loosely caught in blurring lines
just guessing back allows to make
out what still must resist to be combined
seems context can produce a part
that hides some future in degrees
of freedom interpreting art
seems the mystic whole is stored in a piece
but there's no way to find out how
to find what is the fitting view
since perspectives change truth right now
and every looking back is always new
breaking habits means crossing lines
to unveil the contexted mess
just writing what my brain combines
still so far beyond my most daring guess
but this is where I cannot get
by words bound to logical thoughts
I treat them in new ways instead
where all I is weakly felt metaphors
and all I see is kept in mind
and stretching out with every verse
but well, of course no one can find
what only contextually occurs
a strange result is feeding doubts
since all is trapped self-reference
that can be clearly talked about
asking how to comprehend any sense
outside the very performed act
but what got written down at last
is a shadowed trace that reflects
translating what cannot be tracked unmasked
with or kept by well defined terms
but ambiguous metaphors
leaving space for views to confirm
spotted patterns that could reflect my course
but each changed context brings the chance
to find new ways of reading how
the world was caught within found sense
constructed just against backgrounds of now
Mar 3, 2014
Mar 3, 2014 at 7:40 AM UTC
begging for a senseful win
we offer everything and wait
but much too late and we've been
expecting our getting worse
no rehearse, that is the curse
of our too well hidden fate
sleeping to forget the dream
we won't remember anything
but pull the sting - well, it seems
there's still the better way to choose
no excuse, we all did lose
the time that only hope can bring
once we found we were stranded here
stumbling through a spooky sphere
strangely changing, growing weird
leaving even all the best ideas
behind
hoping that there is some hope
that could stand against our fears
and all the years down the slope
that we implored so soon to rise
but it denies and frightened eyes
cannot guess what seemed so clear
turning away - the world won't stop
and history is a part of us
but present fuss will blow up
the concepts of our fathers' minds
no rewind, we cannot find
'cause there's no sense in our must
seems every reason's caused by dust
but even now these dreams don't rust
'cause meaning is the wildest lust
since we woke up by looking just
behind
Jan 25, 2014
Jan 25, 2014 at 3:57 AM UTC
regularity describes the place
where logic proves its basic might
it's hard to leave its suggestive trace
and to analyze a pointless night
cause everywhere we'll spot a point
from which we'll have to start again
and after all we'll find a joint
to reach a more familiar lane
and so we try to understand
but understanding changes all
you can't use light to see dark land
nor understand such thoughts that crawl
beside the well known logic path
through the unknown that you can't hold
ambivalently yours like your breath
but looking back just needs a story told
so we can't escape that blurry snare
no matter how we try to think
we're bound to the very sense we bear
this thought is quicksand and we sink
as long as we try to resolve this link
Jan 22, 2014
Jan 22, 2014 at 12:09 PM UTC
as complex as a net of themes
metaphors are living things
language of self-minded brains
interwoven with a world thought sane
but deluded by senses and sense
cooperating just by chance
you can’t deny those alien parts
that hide within your twisted self
nor cannot face just what they are
just like you can’t escape their hollow spell
that you can’t shelve
though it’s no use to delve
chaotic like each world of thoughts
worlds are nested in each word
concepts of our looped up minds
rooted in something that we can’t find
cause we change with it and through each guess
coevolving law or mess
we can’t deny these shady parts
that constitute our very self
nor cannot guess just who we are
just like we can’t escape that fuzzy spell
that we can’t shelve
though it’s no use to delve
there is no ground to stand upon
as soon as we look what’s beneath
but in the moment we go on
a way’s rebuilt under our feet
so going on works as a ground
and there’s no way of standing still
we better swim or we will drown
we are a process at its will
only in motion we are real
so out of reach for static thoughts
there’s a dynamic self that feels
why understanding is a fitting word
since our points of view are fixed
unable to reflect the complex loop
changing within its feedbacked tricks
that chase our circling selves right through
constantly renovated tubes
we can’t deny these foreign parts
that constitute our very world
nor cannot guess where we should start
to rearrange our mental world of words
that guide our thoughts
in which we just occur
systematically blurred
Jan 17, 2014
Jan 17, 2014 at 9:21 AM UTC
A paradox does lie below
Since many wise men claimed to know:
All spoken truth is doomed to fail
Cause every word works like a veil
Just hiding what is meant by it
As soon as we try to decrypt
Cause every meaning’s far beyond our wit
And as a consequence of that
They don’t know what they really said
Cause every thought they claimed they had
Can make its thinker really mad
Who tries to analyze its sense instead
Of going on or just ahead
Cause every logic is a truth born dead
All logic is a severed head
So paradoxes are no threat
Since they can help because they show
That we can’t say what we do know
Although we do it all the time
As long as we don’t fix loose signs
Cause we destroy the truth that we define
And truth would be a living thing
If words could leave their twisted string
That dooms all thoughts to keep on wondering
*So wait a minute
There is a trap in every thought
With a chance in it
To find another better word*
Jan 1, 2014
Jan 1, 2014 at 11:27 AM UTC