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anemo ne  Jun 2018
gray reverie
anemo ne Jun 2018
The first sign of a dream approaching is that when you’ve already awoken,
awoken to a strange place with no trace of how you could’ve gotten there.
And the unfamiliar, faces near, with eyes similar to shards– shaded  
you can’t help but notice those feelings emitted were somehow something you’ve come to known before,
but where?
–a notion coursing its way around a soundless observatory only to further dissipate—
A sign of discord covers the room,
all that was allowed is furthest from you,
a parched paper made from what seemed like rugged twine knows nothing but lead between,    you find a face emerging from it,
quickly drawn with detail,
there it stops from motion to undulating surpass,
away from a darkened room up in front of a morning taking.
This conjuring source flairs outward
rising through the outworn canvas
leading it to embers
dancing away along a fizzled plane
for what was despair inscribed in this meaningful dereliction.
To what is empty from emotion is nonexistent,
I couldn’t find the reason to live on,
this dream has died as will I... as will the will of this way this place carries over me.
Yes decay follows me,
unto everywhere will there be the silent breezes to carry me past the concrete terrain into nothingness.
I find myself to live this over,
until the advent of air drowns these lungs to knowing again,
to know exactly what it means to breathe again.
I see no reason for such things as unrealistic as they may seem likely for me to occur in this living.
Again I’m stuck in a room full of my owns thoughts,
such a dangerously sorrowful place to be.
‘For everything as it may have not been
weary am I for looking forward at
The things that never happened’

‘Turning over everyday, repetitively’


In its most rawest.
5.3

Parallels:
Snow, for me exemplifies a mute understanding from in juxtaposition with various types of sadnesses that branch off into disparately inclined yearnings, to nostalgic preferences, whether known or not. Why it happens is of course obvious but the way it affects you, makes one wonder, if at all— I think I’m trailing off my train of though here, I’m not sure where this is going..

This was inspired by a remarkable composer, as I recalled a dream before, along with the yearning of trying to expose my underlying expansion of myself with my current understanding of things. what it all could mean as much of his cello’s presence affected me during that process. I’m the gray area that needs deciphering.

—continuations:
the cello that wails the loudest, is one that suffers the most. Even so, every tone encapsulates the listener with resonance. And in that, it reaches its utmost vulnerability, showing the many hues imbedded in an infinite sadness, in an astronomical way, a type of exquisite somber, that resides in the instrument’s hollowness until implementation of procedure.
King Panda Nov 2015
it started with a jaw
twitch vibrating ear
to lip side to side up
and down like I was a horse
shaking off a fly I
saw her legs spread
scissors in hand
as her head popped
and popped
and
popped
like a jack-in-the-box film
screening 3 inches in front
of my eyes until I hid
in a barrel and kept on
driving
north to wherever
lights off and
hooting like a madman
to visions of ariana grande
standing
out in the snow with a purple
beanie and frozen mittens
waiting for me to pull up
the driveway tumble out
the car door and say
you were right
so she can pour hot chocolate
on my face and walk back
inside to stoke the dying
fire
Robert C Howard Nov 2016
A halo of transfigured light.
     spanned the hills and autumn gold
of scores of aspen groves
     basking in the morning sun.

But what is this thing we call a rainbow?
     For all our science talk of vapor,
refraction and angle of the sun
     we surrender still in willing captivity
to its beauty, mystery and myth.

Rainbows beguile by their fleeting rarity
      as ephemeral as life itself -
temporal blessings suspended in time
      unintended and undeserved,
spectral bridges between here and there -
       between what is and what should be.
I cannot see the end in front of me?

How...

WHAT THE **** IS GOING ON!?

Something about two buckets of soil...

GO NOW!
GO NOW!

Go ...now,

How does the Seer work?

Do You
See?

AMC

Vikings

I

see

Why are my skinned eyes?

...crows, crows, crows, crows

Messages
KM Hanslik  Sep 2018
20/20
KM Hanslik Sep 2018
We've been out here swinging for a while now
tearing at your throat like there's no tomorrow
And I've never been one to stand aside or
stand in the way of change, but she's got us on one **** of a ride
hanging over the sides now
trying to get my bearings with my guard down
standing over the edge now
we've been playing both sides, don't let us hit the ground
it'd be one too many if we went down tonight
can't catch a break wondering is the timing ever right
can't catch my breath but it's over now

passing in phases like the last round
the last scene before the grand finale
dialogue caught in tatters like you've a mouth full of razor teeth
touch my cheek
kiss me only when you feel like it
(we were there just last week)
take this dose and space it out, I need
my portions small like my dreams
always on to the next faded scheme,
it's okay though because my vision's 20/20
and I don't mind chasing
my shiny custom things.
Girard Tournesol Nov 2018
. . . there's a path that could not have been
can't be but shall be seen by wise eyes 
all seeing all knowing belonging to you 
yet not you in some form sideways 360
nonexistence up safe in a tree perched 
on the brink a vast ethereal forest 
nocturnal wide-eyed visionary
A tribute to  poet Byron Hoot.
Jeff Gaines Mar 2018
Hello everyone,

  I'm so very sorry … I feel horrible doing this, but I have no choice. You see, I have published my first book on Amazon/Kindle! This piece (and many others) had to be taken down because they do not allow published material to be available online for free. (Go figure) I wanted to leave the shell of the posts because I felt compelled to leave all your helpful and loving comments. (Silly sentimental, I know), but I also didn't want to just have the pieces disappear without an explanation. I feel bad enough as it is!

  I owe ALL of you so, SO much for all of your reads, love, and support. It was YOU that gave me the gumption to FINALLY get off my **** and publish! Thank you all for the warm comments, camaraderie, and encouragement! I will still be here, reading, uploading and just being the Rascal that I am. How could I EVER leave you guys?

  The book is called “The Way I See It – FictionPhilosophySoul Food” and it will be FREE for the first few days on Kindle Select, so watch for it, if you are interested. I hope that you go and grab it. If you do, I would also hope that you find it worthy, you would leave me a good review. That will help me get in the public eye! Soon afterward (2-3 days or so), it will be available in paperback.

Find the book(s) here: www.amazon.com/author/jeff.gaines

Or find the book(s), and all about me, here: www.JeffGaines.world

  Soon after, I also hope to have my first novel (a supernatural thriller), called “Wanderer” available as well!

  Wish me luck!

                                Big, Biggest Love,

                                               Jeff Gaines
This poem was inspired by the Company of Thieves song "Window".
It may not be about the same things that Genevieve was expressing, but it was the inspiration, nonetheless.

Such a moving and beautiful song.

I hope that they don't mind.
I am the candle,
You are the flames,

I give you vision,
You give me strength.

You are the reason,
That I was made,

But if you get too close,
Then I'll melt away.
Older poem
Data  Jan 2018
Mice-sized Vision
Data Jan 2018
In the world of small things,
a tiny, dark-brown mouse
is trapped in a wooden box;

without food or water he
becomes afraid to move
and chooses death.

In the world of small things
the lime-green bell frog’s
skin is wet with a percentage
of poison described in words as

‘harmless’

In a world of diminishing returns
but unlimited growth, you make room
for all your greed and the hungry dream
of how BIG! you will ‘succeed’

Yet, no time to wonder what might have been:
Amidst the cold-white starlight
is the silent, dark-space of endless night where

‘Not a creature is stirring, not even a mouse.’

Microwave your communications,
digitalise your imaginations,
cultivate a virtual existence
in which your obsessions with gods, monsters
and immortal men are ‘larger than life’

And, while the tread of your heavy foot
is upon the world of small things
and your vision’s focus
only notices the bland vainglory
of your shiny ‘big picture’ illusions,

You forget what it means
to have breathed like a timid mouse.


_________________­_____________________
­
By Data © Jan, 2018
Perception is everything
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