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zebra  Jan 2017
Konx Om Pax
zebra Jan 2017
the man of light
knows darkness all to well
he possess sacred knowledge
of source
a living experience with in
radiant
and self effulgent

he knows all is permitted
in the acculturated labyrinths of mind
rooted in bias
and incalculable distortions
a hell house ride
constructed of warbled mirrors
Leprechauns gold
an abusement park
of crepuscular
subconscious ethers
and concertized form
on shape shifting sands

creativity gone mad
where time undoes all
its weary inhabitants worn
they are the color of sleep
attaining misguidance
oh the vacuous business
of guided meditations
through azure skies and verdant fields
while the certified uninitiated
whisper
their pale voices against sonorous winds
as if they could lever boulders with broken twigs

stone churches
gothic crosses
temples of man
monoliths to the imaginary
fantastical man god
re-pleat with beard and ****....how quaint

adulations and prostrations
to there man made deity
through myth that binds
group think
other directed
un-individuated individuals
like tribal ants
a world of shattered light
a white knuckle ride
on a spinning mud ball

yet who knows the secret
of the inner light
the illuminated door
the portal through which
Scottie will really beam you up

The man of the mystic light
in a darkened freakish world
is he not an inconvenience
like a mentor to the deaf dumb and blind
he is rarely recognized
almost never believed

the light is not a metaphor
the source that emanates all
although formless and self effulgent
it is not a religion yet all abide with in it

in the dark funnel of conceit
man turns everything into a noun
as if naming is claiming
when what he seeks is beyond
for it is a great dimension of another order

konx om pax
light in extension
King Shout  Sep 2015
Mirrors
King Shout Sep 2015
The mirrors whisper secrets
Little tidbits of advice
Reflections of a washed up zealot
Being optimistic to pull me from this ever-clenching vice

Torn, tattered, broken, battered
Claimed exaggeration from these hushed murmurs
Self destruction evident, nothing really matters
Tugging on my mind; the zealot’s cheery sermons

“Happiness is key
And the key is universal...”
But no one ever thinks to be
Something ultimately omniversal

A tool to be used constantly for general amusement
A tool to be ignored when no longer needed
A tool to be picked for sadistic abusement
A tool to be deluded, guilted, always twisting to the greeded

And like the calm before the inevitable storm
The tool dances to the tunes the varied user creates
Suicidal pursuit nightly, heart never warmed or warned
Staring back at the zealot is me; whispering dogmatic secrets of self-hatred.
I guess this is what happens when you let your fingers type freely.
Hey! Thanks for reading!
Rotten Meat Dec 2015
You feel that sudden chill
Suddenly you feel cold, though its summer
You have a lot of school work to do
But you go straight to bed
Just trying to sleep

Wake up, hear voices in your head
You take another smoke, in the closet
Better not get caught by your parents
That doesn't fix it
You fall back asleep, skipping school

You get blamed for something you didn't do the next day
Didn't stand up for yourself
You don't care about anything anumore.
You've lost that sense of feeling

Getting yelled at, a bit of abusement
But the only pain you feel is inside your head
Crippling into your thinking
Getting hold of your emotions
Never letting you go

You relapsed several times
You overdose on pills every day
But not enough to pass out
You then promise yourself one day to stop
But relapse again 2 days later

You meet someone people
Become friends; they don't know what you're going through
But the smiles, the talks, that makes you think....
Think about something...

You're not alone anymore
When you think about those suicidal thoughts again....
Think twice: you have friends
And someone who cares about you
That special one you think about everyday

No relapses; you stop on pills and self-harming
You start healing every day
Little by little
Still getting those thoughts
But they disappear quickly

You think about that person
Everyday; looking forward to see him
Your parents don't know about him
They would be mad at you
Telling you to focus in school
But no one can really prevent themselves from falling in love

One day, you relapse again
You think about what you've just done
You tell yourself that this is wrong
You stop, the relapse only lasting one day
You think about him again
You tell yourself you'll never do this again

Looks like you've healed
You're still depressed
Like ***** to you
But you got something to look forward to
Friends
That special one
That's all that matters to you now

You can't say you're alright
But you have hope
This will get better, right?
As you lie awake at night
Things are different now
In a good way

Life isn't easy to live through
Its hard to keep yourself alive
But now, you have people you care about
Something you didn't actually have in the past
"Everything will be alright." You tell yourself
Am I off the list of relapses?
It looks like it

None of the people I care about would like it
If they find out I'm hurting myself
So I'll not do it, for them
For me also
I'm off the list of all of those relapses
Slowling healing everyday
Thank you
You don't know exactly what I'm going through
But just by existing, you're helping a lot
And by all the conversations we have
neth jones  Jun 2019
kuck
neth jones Jun 2019
tied to your family
through exchanges of damage
how can you manage life
with the tether of the holidays ?

back in the vicinity
back in the fond
the fold of abusement
held warm
by secretious exchange

imbibe

care of mottled re-riggings
of tried over memories
re-rung in company
to be loudly agreed upon
again and again and again...

back with family
fellow obscenities
bellows
Not my family experience, but an impression felt when friends reluctantly leave town to visit families for reunions, holidays, funerals, weddings, e.t.c...
Shadow  Nov 2018
Don't you see
Shadow Nov 2018
Don't you see
The pain in
Thy eyes of
The creature the
Eyes are dull
No one treated
It right the
Eyes of a
Abused one the
Broken one of
The life it
Used to have
You look back
There standing there
Is a dog
The dog of
Abandonment abusement loveless
Dog is so
Broken don't you
See it in
It's eyes on
It's body
Hira malik  Mar 2020
ATHEISM!!
Hira malik Mar 2020
Fascination is such an illusional and fine category of our mind, where when it leads to the death, its joyful, less painful and more of an adventure!!

Oh sentiments, a turmoil of judgement, likewise you have burdened me so much that futile it is the fertility of thoughts.

Junction of words and abusement are combination of those languages, that once was spoken in times of ******. I capitalised his name ,for the word had an enormous affect on the world history.

Structural imagination of something into an empire, O GOD, u know only better, i felt like U at that moment!

I was so alone when i turn into GOD all by myself. Where is that shoulder to lean on, someone should be there above me to handle all the chaos i created . Its was exhausting and i gave up!!

HIRAMALIK

— The End —