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Sharina Saad Jun 2013
Before we were
Christians,
Muslims,
Jews,
Hindus,
Sikhs,
we were all human.
The funny thing is that we still are
We have just forgotten it...
We are all human,
regardless of religion and race
If you can't accept this simple concept even
say good bye to globalization
and internalization
and be in your comfort zone...
safe and sound...
SassyJ Feb 2016
Philosophical epistemology strumming adventures
Albeit, coherent mental decoding stratifications structured
Supposedly our world rests in our minds, revolving knowledge
An entwine of conceptual abstract flowing within oneself
The mind in the “I” the “I” a reality lived in my experiences
George of Leontini, a mine mind approving solipsism exploring innatism
Imaginative insights that nothing exists, the secrets secreting secrets
The knowledge behind the veils that remains un-communicated
A reverse of normality and known existences, moral disposition
Hypothesis of depersonalizations, adventures of self internalization
Justifications for what lies outside the Medulla Oblongata
Skepticism and just alternatives to western philosophy
Subjective unapproved experiences only robust in one’s mind
Descartes abstraction of inner experiences, reciprocated paradigm
Intuitively, perceived lived formulations of "Cogito Ergo Sum"
Psychological conscious undoubted individualistic thoughts
Berkley explored perspectives that physicality is an embodiment of the mind
The mind a decoding visualizer, that encompass the non-existent
An idealism marriage of ‘metaphysical’ and epistemological philosophy
The intense esoteric “dualism” verses the fiery “monism” reality
Mind boggling differentiated truths bleeding with blinking unresolvable hypothesis
The jiggered methodological, streamlining the un -logic sequential beats
Drawing upon the core of my being, I muster up the strength to survive.
Stepping into another plane of existence; one in which I have no capacity to resist toxicity; I am vulnerable.
A juggernaut lies at the end of the daylight hours; soft in temper and yet scourging in it’s pronouncements.
This is a being with no malicious intent; a sentinel guarding the sacred caliber of a spirit under divine instruction.

Darkness pervades in the form of light; I can sense a façade of purity within the confines of my bones.
This fortress that I have traversed into is infected with a murky haze looming just above the skies.
Escape is my only option; if I remain here it will be my demise.
When the juggernaut arrives, trepidation will electrify my soul; it will animate me.

Fear consumes me with every waking second I’m in it’s midst.
-This gargantuan being understands-
Empathy cannot save me however, once the utterances of ancient spirit inflict scathing wounds upon me in the name of humanity.
Attempting to rescue me from the tumult of the planet does not obscure the pain and heartache of compassionate words.

Wisdom lies within this walking tome; statue-esque maiden.
I have used my discernment as a bulwark; protection from wounds of sensitivity lies in detachment from myself.
I have come to realize that supplication does have a purpose.
-To plea with the remnants of a long forgotten world-

I am overwhelmed with euphoria when I realize that my fears have been nothing but stymie.
Fleeting in nature; they whispered to me of my incapacity to reach the heart of a relic growing wiser by the minute.
There is no judgment to be passed and I have been emancipated from the shackles of a foreshadowing past.
It leads to my genesis; the day when I shall be lifted up past all my iniquity.

Until that day, I await the metamorphosis of an ailing planet.
The Juggernaut does have a purpose.
This maiden shall be a beacon amongst the tumult of the seasons.
I shall look to her as a guide and honesty is what shall pervade from her lips.

In trueness she shall bestow her utterances upon me.
Like the sweetest honey, her words will befall my eardrums.
Internalization spurs a chemical reaction within me.
I am changing.

I have been enveloped by blinding rays of light.
The darkness is no match for the spiritual sinew that I possess.
I am growing by the second… I am growing prayer by prayer.
-Amen-

By Iridescently Efflorescent
Inspired from a real-life encounter with a loved on who always seems to use words as a weapon causing despondency when they truly intend to edify me. Hope you enjoy the fantasy elements and PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU HAVE ANY THOUGHTS OR IF THERE IS ANYTHING THAT YOU LIKED IN PARTICULAR! <3
Drawing upon the core of my being, I muster up the strength to survive.
Stepping into another plane of existence; one in which I have no capacity to resist toxicity; I am vulnerable.
A juggernaut lies at the end of the daylight hours; soft in temper and yet scourging in it’s pronouncements.
This is a being with no malicious intent; a sentinel guarding the sacred caliber of a spirit under divine instruction.

Darkness pervades in the form of light; I can sense a façade of purity within the confines of my bones.
This fortress that I have traversed into is infected with a murky haze looming just above the skies.
Escape is my only option; if I remain here it will be my demise.
When the juggernaut arrives, trepidation will electrify my soul; it will animate me.

Fear consumes me with every waking second I’m in it’s midst.
-This gargantuan being understands-
Empathy cannot save me however, once the utterances of ancient spirit inflict scathing wounds upon me in the name of humanity.
Attempting to rescue me from the tumult of the planet does not obscure the pain and heartache of compassionate words.

Wisdom lies within this walking tome; statue-esque maiden.
I have used my discernment as a bulwark; protection from wounds of sensitivity lies in detachment from myself.
I have come to realize that supplication does have a purpose.
-To plea with the remnants of a long forgotten world-

I am overwhelmed with euphoria when I realize that my fears have been nothing but stymie.
Fleeting in nature; they whispered to me of my incapacity to reach the heart of a relic growing wiser by the minute.
There is no judgment to be passed and I have been emancipated from the shackles of a foreshadowing past.
It leads to my genesis; the day when I shall be lifted up past all my iniquity.

Until that day, I await the metamorphosis of an ailing planet.
The Juggernaut does have a purpose.
This maiden shall be a beacon amongst the tumult of the seasons.
I shall look to her as a guide and honesty is what shall pervade from her lips.

In trueness she shall bestow her utterances upon me.
Like the sweetest honey, her words will befall my eardrums.
Internalization spurs a chemical reaction within me.
I am changing.

I have been enveloped by blinding rays of light.
The darkness is no match for the spiritual sinew that I possess.
I am growing by the second… I am growing prayer by prayer.
-Amen-

By Iridescently Efflorescent
Inspired from a real-life encounter with a loved on who always seems to use words as a weapon causing despondency when they truly intend to edify me instead. Hope you enjoy the fantasy elements and PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU HAVE ANY THOUGHTS OR IF THERE IS ANYTHING THAT YOU LIKED IN PARTICULAR! <3
lauren  Jul 2016
internalization
lauren Jul 2016
the absurdity
of those fleeting moments
is almost as cherished
as the wondrousness of perpetual love
you will inevitably feel
pushthepulldoor  May 2014
Shallow
pushthepulldoor May 2014
On the surface:
Porcelain skin,
lightly freckled face.
Long auburn hair.
Brown and green flecked eyes.
5'9, thick thighs, tight waist.
This is the girl you fell in love with.
The girl in front of you.
Just what you can see and feel and hold.
You did not fall in love with what is underlying.
Numb to most, angry with others.
Careful.. Never one to rush things.
A fan of perspectives.
An interest in different characteristics.
Curious about every little thing.
Inquisitive, kind.
A raging internalization of anger and frustration
and sadness.
Foundation ready to give out but she wont let it.
She patches up each new crack.
Lost her mind long ago
but never faltering her grip on reality.
It's tattooed on her.
She can't escape the harsh truths.
One being, people only see the surfaces.
Never digging even the slightest.
She's seen many lives lost before it was their time.
She's given up long ago.
Taught herself;
No one can be saved if they wont help themselves first.
Removed herself from
they who claw at the ankles
of people to be dragged down alongside them.
She holds her head up high when she feels herself sinking.
All alone, right beside you.
Always there when she's needed.
Never to have anyone hold her hand
or tell her she's strong.
She doesn't need to be told.
She knows that to survive what she has,
she must be anything but weak.
She will laugh in the face of the antagonist,
smile and ask how their day was, truly curious.
But you only see the surface.
She's just a pretty face.
© M.S.
When I was younger, and chat rooms were relatively new
I would bring up the topic of suicide. Sometimes,
contemplating the reaction my death would get from others
I would lie on my bed, sobbing.
It was just a mental exercise
to soothe myself
with the thought of my own death.
I saw this internalization of conflicts as the ideal approach--
mortality, akin to a train-line I could exit at any stop.
Where you pull the chord determines context for your plot.
I try not to romanticize suicide or see it as a solution; suicide is simply a neutral alternative to life, which is full of painful and pleasurable experiences.
MMXI
BB Tyler  Jul 2014
who I am
BB Tyler Jul 2014
an internalization of pattern,
a process possessed
and mirrored.

A frequency,
the same sound as is found in
a dying fire
and leaf-fall
over a patronized footpath,

a hum,
and a crackling.

A seemingly random happening
guided by a template of ritual elimination.
Narrowing down the stream of all things
to fit inside
a mind.

This is who I am.

A recurring dream
and the feeling of waking from it
to find yourself
where you were
always.

.covered.

Only so many masks
to fit a face.
In so much paint,
only so much color,


and in all the ways you can put it to a page,

this is who I am
amuba Nov 2019
Fingers on the strings
Singing the songs of heaven
Flying between clouds with our wings
Amused at this holy creation

"If only it was real"
From an old brain
"Why, does it lack the feel?"
From a fresh brain

Internalization of concepts
Painting our life with your brush
The idea of fear or even dare and courage
The infiltration of the human touch

Through the lenses of a child once in a while
When all we knew was just dream
Never questioning the impossibilities
When all we knew was just jump and swim

Corruption of our mind
Living with all these lies
These human and his kind
Unfortunately, this is just life

But once in a while through the lenses of a child
When all we knew was just dream
Never questioning the impossibilities
We could just jump and swim

The restrictions
From age and from family
The limitations
From ourselves or some other entity

Through the lenses of a child
When thoughts were pure and untouched
When all we did was just dream
Let’s jump and live the life of impossible just for a moment
For every moment...
The eyes of a child have a very powerful imagination, let's remember our childhood and have the courage again to dream like we use to.
ah, tis in regard to praise worthy of zee
sylph van halen wondrous sigh door house
   where boot LIX ******* ruled thee,
this missive (fertilized ova byproduct),
   sans newly wedded whoopie
between n betwixt carnal existence
   involving stiff joint courtesy of randy
(loch ness hike hood only imagine)

   engendered pleasurable scree
ming, when enfilade eruption occurred
   sans papa's engorged tree
into verdant valley shaped like miniature "v"
when bare naked lady n beastie boy - with re:
tractable shaped magic flute
   mountebank upon late
   (then young) mum when she

acquiesced bing dominated
   during **** version with glee
  club (prickly ***** per papa)
   unplanned romp or x game of thrones
  whereby rampant animal urge beckoned to free
flagellates searching mini verdant zyder zee

which warm fuzzy i.e. cop u lay shun
   nine months later with meself as baby
baked to imp perfection second to none
   this futre puff daddy slated
   tubby conceived via *** pistol gun
in tandem with mull ate mum,
   who cavorted in naked fun
   begat word **** as second brood ding bun
in the oven o me late mum...
   gone against desire tool heave anon!
------------------------------------
(long prose and poetry my atypical mode at introducing myself).

How apropos and divine to stumble (merely by happenstance) across a chance to claim my (virtual) fifteen minute fragments of fame just in the click and nick of time.  

Although gainfully unemployed (do to a series of unfortunate events that now finds me receiving social security disability), I can still vividly visualize utter despair and vouchsafe to acquire the requisite trappings emblematic of psychic misfortune.

Indelible, permanent and unfading abysmal damaging domestic dynamics got etched deep upon the memory of this erstwhile individual! The general gist in the form of quick brush strokes (namely written) of psychologically traumatizing recollection now follows.

I can attest to malevolent mean-spirited objections by my father (and late mother) in regard to my grossly unacceptable attire, deportment and work ethic.

Nonetheless, a sense of righteous vindictiveness manifested itself thru attendant Pyrrhic victories.

Back in those days I (a grown adult male and considerably past the age of rebelling against authoritarianism, and their only not so prodigal heir hiss son) poorly wore mantle and staff of supposed maturity.

Lack of compliance and obeisance with regulations and rules of Harris household (mainly thru being in constant denial to conform, maintaining emotional detachment and estrangement and evincing little or no concern for family members) brewed, festered and lied dormant during prepubescence.

The pressure and tension between and betwixt genetic kinfolk (so palpable one could sense an indomitable barrier), would rank as successfully dysfunctional way before such nom de guerre became in vogue.

Fury and wrath became markedly and noticeably pronounced once exiting the storied four walls of high school.

The venomous barrage and fusillade spewed forth from off parental tongues at an exponential rate and on a par to feeling the stinging cudgel of a horsewhip.

Out of fear and timidity, I consequently and silently absorbed cruel treatment.

Neither the eldest nor youngest sibling bore witness against the tender spirit of their only brother.

A façade as hardened (statue) conveniently adopted.

This embodiment poorly served to fend off onslaught of incessant anger.

This defense mechanism (identified as passive aggressive by mom) offered  minuscule protection as I mentally dodged lobbed insults and affected defiance (in league like poisoned bards and daggers hurled) of said threats and ultimatums.

No matter these bitter pills of blaring character assassination (mine), denunciations, fulminations, incrimination's, intimidation's, vociferous vocalizations (by said parents), I stood my ground at played the deaf mute, which repression and internalization of emotional maelstrom only caused self contamination and manifestation of humiliation.

They (dad and mom) became further angered and inflamed per my total oblivious stance! This reaction added insult to injury.

Deliverance (minus dueling banjos) per tough love lessons amplified to the tune of additional feats at becoming excoriated, ranted and raved against this, that and the other of my habits and nonchalant indifference to pursue work.

Those involuntary, unrehearsed and vicious family chats happened to be replete with heavily exploding and uncorked anger.

That (of course) would be a considerable understatement!

Dad (the de facto, elected and nominal spokesperson for unpleasant chest thumping exclamations, (which conveniently took place no earlier than the stroke of midnight) - emphatically swore (adrip with dramatic livid rage - like rabid beast) all manner of **** vulgarity and demanded from this insolent appearing male offspring immediate compliance.

Defiance and fatigue offered him predictable and usual blank stare upon hearing the kind and lenient sentence to pack bags and GET OUT!  

With dreaded approach of dire and sealed fate (played out in this over active imagination of mine with dad and mom egregiously fiendishly, grotesquely expunged themselves of any last vestige personal emotional belonging), I anxiously bided my time.

Those next couple weeks forced self-evaluation of Atheism.

The recurrent consideration of relinquishing nonestablishmentarian paradigm in favor and lieu with God, miracles and salvation seemed to clash being liberal thinker.

As indicated, the tempest and tirade quickly got turned back upon those who so masterfully tormented this second born, whose steadfast stoicism and subservience to a higher power perchance brought a temporary respite.

That deadline (which happened to be just one of many similar sputtering swearing fulminations, salacious ultimatums valuations of love) blithely came and went without incident - no matter expletive filled intense oath to remove) continued to keep pull to remain an occupant with kinfolk.

What caused especial ire and wrath to fester (per apparent ambivalence, indifference and nonchalance for me to take any job - even shoveling **** - particularly within emotional bedrock and firmament of deceased mother) constituted remembrance and vivid reminder of her father.

My maternal grandfather (Morris Kuritsky) supposedly never paid much heed to regular and steady employment (to support his four children and wife) despite his skill as a swift tailor. Hence my mother (Harriet) grew up and lived in utter destitution and poverty.

Mother subsequently reacted with ferocious vindictiveness upon witnessing a near magic transformation of near identical behavior in Matthew - the single heir to the family name.
---------------------------------------
...from this middle and sole son harris progeny
who willingly shared hoop - ping equal play zure
   arose from wading thru verbiage of letters abc...
...xyz
in various combinations he
arranges/arranged foe his passion to be
somewhat liter aery.


your prerogative, to message or email
(hay4four@aol.com) typed
   back what ever impulse            
juiced where ever spools create poetic strand
asper fingers comprising specific black keys land
to react inspires with nuttin grand
viz **** sapiens
   pearl jam chrome once canned
gene net tick trader joe brand.

postscript: a dream to wit ness
mine current high school senior
   a name y'all never guess
to make the entrance grade for university of penn
   after the truckload of application material
   someone or many doze *****!

http://about.me/matthewscott.harris
John Prophet  Apr 2023
Island
John Prophet Apr 2023
Island
in an
endless
void.
Dark sea.
No
going
out.
No
coming
in.
Isolation.
Cross
pollination,
no­ne
to be
found.
Internalized,
within
a tiny
place.
All known
derived
from.
Animal
point of
view.
Reinforcing
minimalist
thought.
Evolved
internalization.­
Self
pollination.
Nothing
more.
Island
contained.
Parochial
view­.

— The End —