phillip-hedayatnia - Hello Poetry

O life That force that draws dependent On nothing yet on everything The good and evil, confused and enlightened It moves through us as light shining through the clouds That darkens our outlook The stars vanish as the sky's light fades No longer can we reach further, jump higher The bay's light snuffed by nature No color, no green, but grey As muted as the circumstance of silence Where one's own thoughts are not quieted, but amplified The inverse of the typical pattern Where as the noise outside increases, the thoughts within become clouded Thoughts like stars, once visible now invisible Absorbed by the grey Overtaken by the grey Gone Replaced with the noise from outside A small town replaced by chain stores A young mind replaced by no mind A people replaced by a nation Stars and stripes, vivid and billowing Real yet ethereal The stripes' colors run across the fabric of the flag Confined only by the end of the fabric by this binary reality Without this confine they would run forever Like a stream Like a stream of consciousness a visualization of the confines that bind us The shackles we fight The irons we drag, day in and day out Our symbols, our world are governed by laws And we struggle to break them To understand them To exist is an act of civil obedience to prosper as an act of disobedience We develop we create we imagine we inspire we think we critique we wonder We live in limbo Questioning our very purpose As we feel the driving force within us Push us to disobey the laws that govern us To prosper or to fall To pass or to fail Eden was a place of perfection designed to nurture us to allow us to prosper through adherence to rules But we cannot prosper without disobedience It is what compels us to live and learn It is what comprises the very essence of us We could not live there But we cannot live here We are nomads of existence Travelers on an endless journey We find ways to amuse ourselves Inventing distractions and novelties Most bittersweet They are tokens of our achievement Designed to take the place of indicators of progress for an endless journey has no mid-way point No end Just a beginning I called to life: What shall I do? What shall I be? I am a cynic I exclaimed with true heart and soul That this advancement These tokens are meaningless That they are not the panacea to our problems They are the parasite that ails us I urged I begged I cried I felt that ideas were dead No chivalry towards the mind I have changed Our journey has no end, only beginning There are no good days No bad days In the grander scope there is nothing But in that same way there is everything With every token we craft to celebrate our achievements We huddle together, a group of beings alone in an endless timeline Moving forth ceaselessly But together With one another Defending against threats Celebrating against boredom O life That force that remains dependent yet independent Interdependent Moving through us, connecting us Bringing us together Forming our humanity The only thing we have and the best thing we have A path embellished by us Luster none surpassed No despair may conquer us No reality may threaten us Life is the lantern in the dark that beckons us. O, life. You exist for all but are visible to only some You leave us pondering, wondering, yet living as one.

0

Aug 14, 2014

Aug 14, 2014 at 1:06 AM UTC

phillip-hedayatnia

Stream of consciousness

O life That force that draws dependent On nothing yet on everything The good and evil, confused and enlightened It moves through us as light shining through the clouds That darkens our outlook The stars vanish as the sky's light fades No longer can we reach further, jump higher The bay's light snuffed by nature No color, no green, but grey As muted as the circumstance of silence Where one's own thoughts are not quieted, but amplified The inverse of the typical pattern Where as the noise outside increases, the thoughts within become clouded Thoughts like stars, once visible now invisible Absorbed by the grey Overtaken by the grey Gone Replaced with the noise from outside A small town replaced by chain stores A young mind replaced by no mind A people replaced by a nation Stars and stripes, vivid and billowing Real yet ethereal The stripes' colors run across the fabric of the flag Confined only by the end of the fabric by this binary reality Without this confine they would run forever Like a stream Like a stream of consciousness a visualization of the confines that bind us The shackles we fight The irons we drag, day in and day out Our symbols, our world are governed by laws And we struggle to break them To understand them To exist is an act of civil obedience to prosper as an act of disobedience We develop we create we imagine we inspire we think we critique we wonder We live in limbo Questioning our very purpose As we feel the driving force within us Push us to disobey the laws that govern us To prosper or to fall To pass or to fail Eden was a place of perfection designed to nurture us to allow us to prosper through adherence to rules But we cannot prosper without disobedience It is what compels us to live and learn It is what comprises the very essence of us We could not live there But we cannot live here We are nomads of existence Travelers on an endless journey We find ways to amuse ourselves Inventing distractions and novelties Most bittersweet They are tokens of our achievement Designed to take the place of indicators of progress for an endless journey has no mid-way point No end Just a beginning I called to life: What shall I do? What shall I be? I am a cynic I exclaimed with true heart and soul That this advancement These tokens are meaningless That they are not the panacea to our problems They are the parasite that ails us I urged I begged I cried I felt that ideas were dead No chivalry towards the mind I have changed Our journey has no end, only beginning There are no good days No bad days In the grander scope there is nothing But in that same way there is everything With every token we craft to celebrate our achievements We huddle together, a group of beings alone in an endless timeline Moving forth ceaselessly But together With one another Defending against threats Celebrating against boredom O life That force that remains dependent yet independent Interdependent Moving through us, connecting us Bringing us together Forming our humanity The only thing we have and the best thing we have A path embellished by us Luster none surpassed No despair may conquer us No reality may threaten us Life is the lantern in the dark that beckons us. O, life. You exist for all but are visible to only some You leave us pondering, wondering, yet living as one.

114

What stories could journals tell? What we forget is that they are not just repositories of words but also of thoughts, feelings, emotions They are places in and of themselves Saving these emotions, stashing them away so they can be discovered at a later time. But the true beauty of these journals lies within discovery itself A droplet of water will fall further down a curved surface taking a pale tan color like its surroundings It will fall off the surface Onto the fibers of the page below Leaving a darkened splotch More droplets will follow More tears will follow As twenty years from now A thirty-five year old woman rediscovers the girl she once was.

0

Aug 12, 2014

Aug 12, 2014 at 11:28 PM UTC

phillip-hedayatnia

Journals

What stories could journals tell? What we forget is that they are not just repositories of words but also of thoughts, feelings, emotions They are places in and of themselves Saving these emotions, stashing them away so they can be discovered at a later time. But the true beauty of these journals lies within discovery itself A droplet of water will fall further down a curved surface taking a pale tan color like its surroundings It will fall off the surface Onto the fibers of the page below Leaving a darkened splotch More droplets will follow More tears will follow As twenty years from now A thirty-five year old woman rediscovers the girl she once was.

26

He's been through this before Writer's block No, not that But the feeling of it Applied to life As a whole All's dank near the dream The dream That which we all have Dreams of our lives Dreams of our lies As we abandon all good and evil In our search for stability What we seek shining nameless walking out of the world we chase it visualize it black on glowing grey the green light deferred for a grey one It walks, then runs. From these dreams the witness turns aside constantly throughout his life the witness runs the distance grows the impossibility is perceptible We know what is happening We are all witnesses yet we do not know the solution so we watch on the arid climate of our world scorched by our own infallibility our race the one we share as inhabitants of this earth the one drawn as a cartoon image of itself drawn in its own image redrawn, modernized The traveller waits on the shores of our beach He beckons to the shadows in the distance He calls out, warmly like a father to his son He calls once more He calls no more The traveller waits I wish to call out to the traveller I wish to exclaim 'disguise not your battered soul' I wish to comfort But I cannot I am in the distance My limbs will not carry me in that direction I am in the distance amongst a flock of martyred guns in our digital world, a blank text box is a blank page. we need not think about what we will write we need not think. yet we are human.

0

Jan 1, 2014

Jan 1, 2014 at 9:46 PM UTC

phillip-hedayatnia

Feelings of a traveller's soul

He's been through this before Writer's block No, not that But the feeling of it Applied to life As a whole All's dank near the dream The dream That which we all have Dreams of our lives Dreams of our lies As we abandon all good and evil In our search for stability What we seek shining nameless walking out of the world we chase it visualize it black on glowing grey the green light deferred for a grey one It walks, then runs. From these dreams the witness turns aside constantly throughout his life the witness runs the distance grows the impossibility is perceptible We know what is happening We are all witnesses yet we do not know the solution so we watch on the arid climate of our world scorched by our own infallibility our race the one we share as inhabitants of this earth the one drawn as a cartoon image of itself drawn in its own image redrawn, modernized The traveller waits on the shores of our beach He beckons to the shadows in the distance He calls out, warmly like a father to his son He calls once more He calls no more The traveller waits I wish to call out to the traveller I wish to exclaim 'disguise not your battered soul' I wish to comfort But I cannot I am in the distance My limbs will not carry me in that direction I am in the distance amongst a flock of martyred guns in our digital world, a blank text box is a blank page. we need not think about what we will write we need not think. yet we are human.

59

You think you know me. I think I know you. We know nothing As we move forward Slouched in our office chairs of despair Some moving full throttle, the others stay still Still All in the same place All at the same level The illusion of movement Competitiveness run amok and awry An experiment gone wrong An experiment in our endless longing, our search Our eventual journey As we seek greatness and perfection While shattering the thought of it. We have been taught to question Questions bring greatness Greatness is what we long for Greatness has been subjugated No longer an aspiration, but a trade Not a product of inspiration But a product of greed Art is dead Love is dead All is dead What once was an abstract concept Is now concrete And invisible Nothing A black hole Constructed from the shattered hopes and dreams Of millenials and those who felt like we do throughout history What does "millenial" mean anyway? In every context it encapsulates Consumerism Greed Selfishness Hypocrisy Art is dead Love is dead All is dead And we killed it We dealt the death blow. We lack heart We are the hollow men We are the stuffed men Leaning together Headpiece filled with greatness Greatness comes from accomplishments Accomplishments come from knowledge Knowledge comes from aspiration Aspiration comes from inspiration Inspiration... comes from the metaphysical heart The hollow men had no soul and neither do we We lean together We do not embrace We do not take the next steps Only leaning We lack what we need to see it through We are incapable of maintaining relationships. For our stamina is gone In its place, divorce, infidelity, shallowness relationships based on looks and dreams dreams of perfection based on the wrong definition We are the hollow men We are hollow We are... despairing Despair why would we despair? if we did not care? are we then hollow? if we worry, is that not out of concern? is concern not out of love? does love... not stem from the heart? Sometimes I wonder Can you still have a heart If you have a mind in the way?

0

Dec 29, 2013

Dec 29, 2013 at 10:47 PM UTC

phillip-hedayatnia

State of a Generation

You think you know me. I think I know you. We know nothing As we move forward Slouched in our office chairs of despair Some moving full throttle, the others stay still Still All in the same place All at the same level The illusion of movement Competitiveness run amok and awry An experiment gone wrong An experiment in our endless longing, our search Our eventual journey As we seek greatness and perfection While shattering the thought of it. We have been taught to question Questions bring greatness Greatness is what we long for Greatness has been subjugated No longer an aspiration, but a trade Not a product of inspiration But a product of greed Art is dead Love is dead All is dead What once was an abstract concept Is now concrete And invisible Nothing A black hole Constructed from the shattered hopes and dreams Of millenials and those who felt like we do throughout history What does "millenial" mean anyway? In every context it encapsulates Consumerism Greed Selfishness Hypocrisy Art is dead Love is dead All is dead And we killed it We dealt the death blow. We lack heart We are the hollow men We are the stuffed men Leaning together Headpiece filled with greatness Greatness comes from accomplishments Accomplishments come from knowledge Knowledge comes from aspiration Aspiration comes from inspiration Inspiration... comes from the metaphysical heart The hollow men had no soul and neither do we We lean together We do not embrace We do not take the next steps Only leaning We lack what we need to see it through We are incapable of maintaining relationships. For our stamina is gone In its place, divorce, infidelity, shallowness relationships based on looks and dreams dreams of perfection based on the wrong definition We are the hollow men We are hollow We are... despairing Despair why would we despair? if we did not care? are we then hollow? if we worry, is that not out of concern? is concern not out of love? does love... not stem from the heart? Sometimes I wonder Can you still have a heart If you have a mind in the way?

85

Knowledge is power. Is that accurate? Is it rather a spectrum? What is our value? How must we examine this? How can we know? Should we know? Will we know? Are these questions meta? Why do we ask questions? Why was this question asked? What is the human condition? Is it to search for answers we can’t ever understand? If we are to believe in the story of our creation – Was this the final punishment bestowed upon us? To ask questions? To be inquisitive? Is what is the root of all good also the root of all evil? Knowledge is power. No, it’s ignorance.

0

Dec 29, 2013

Dec 29, 2013 at 5:10 PM UTC

phillip-hedayatnia

Questions

Knowledge is power. Is that accurate? Is it rather a spectrum? What is our value? How must we examine this? How can we know? Should we know? Will we know? Are these questions meta? Why do we ask questions? Why was this question asked? What is the human condition? Is it to search for answers we can’t ever understand? If we are to believe in the story of our creation – Was this the final punishment bestowed upon us? To ask questions? To be inquisitive? Is what is the root of all good also the root of all evil? Knowledge is power. No, it’s ignorance.

20