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I am the darkness!
Fierce and unafraid
Monsters in the shadows of my mind

You shine your lights
but cannot **** me!
I blind you
and you stumble on
in the night

I am the wolves!
Howling at the moon
We revel in the black forests
of impending fear and doom
and laugh at the screams of terror that echo through the woods

I am the phantom!
Crying out to be set free
Wandering aimlessly through the trees
Growing accustomed to the dark and the cold
Did I choose this fate?

I am the magma!
Flowing deep in the core in the earth
You do not see me
but you know that I am there
You marvel
You fear

I am the fire!
Surging furiously through forests and hearts
Igniting undergrowth and passion

I have no enemies
I have no friends
I only rage, consuming everything in my path
until it's all gone
I cheer at my triumph!

I am the rain!
Falling in rivulets into the midnight
I extinguish the flames and leave nothing but ash
I cry for what once was
before the unforgiving fire stole it away

I am the storm!
Screaming, screaming screaming in thundering cries
Striking down anything and everything that gets in my way

I am unstoppable
Flooding the world and drowning all who claim to be good
Laughing mercilessly, leaving no stone unturned!
Anything I cannot reach is struck down
by lightning power
unrivaled

I am an ant!
Intelligent and strong
patient, persevering, hardworking
Serving my queen
Caring for my colony

When intruders come to **** and destroy
I fight bravely
Tiny warrior in a vast army
Struck down cruelly by giant, fumbling hands
Dying a warrior's death
of insignificance

I am the monster!
lurking in the night
I torture and ****
anyone who dares to set foot in my forest
Wiping my bloodied hands on ashen trees
and laughing in twisted pleasure
as my victims scream for mercy

I am an angel!
Watching the bloodbath from afar
and caring for the mourning innocent
as they ascend to heaven
I weep for the life lost to the monster's hands

I am the darkness!
I am everything
I am nothing
I am beauty
I am fear
I conceal
and I illuminate
Fear me
and revel in my beauty
Yitkbel Feb 19
Ant Farm of Forever Encased in Ember

By: Yitkbel


Written: Sunday, February 16, 2025


Ant Farm of Forever

I.

It's getting early and it's getting late,
Far from midnight and closer to day.
You're wide awake, always the same,
Your soul drenched in love and fear,
Or dread as they say.

1.

You're daydreaming with your heart again,
Of all the ifs and whens.
And all the dearest whom, and where too.
They were faster travelers than you;
I guess they had to go.
But where to?
You ask, and it's no use.
You're standing in the vastness
Of an empty field.
There's no one to answer you.
Are they traceless,
Except for the traces of memories,
And all the pains of love
Clinging by threads of regret to you?
"Could I trace my way back to them,
Or would these traces leave me too? "
I wish I knew,
I too, am standing in the vastness
Of an empty field.

2.

Have we wandered off too far,
And crossed the threshold?
I can still feel the cold,
But this is a sight to behold.
This is a place devoid of time,
But definitely not life:

See, the barley runs up to the sky,
Waltzing between the old oaks,
Rushing to reach the light.
The pink and blue light,
Swirling about,
Curtaining the shadows,
Behind the clouds.

Have we been left behind?
You know we can fly,
When we're not reality-bind,
Could we reach them in time?
Would I
Would I
Be always left behind?
The child in me cried.
As our feet begin to hover,
And leave the land behind.

3.

It didn't take long to reach the divide,
And when you pushed what felt like
A curtain of cotton aside.
I saw the lines.
These must be the shadows
From your dream of dreams,
And dream of life.
You searched and searched
For a familiar face,
And familiar eyes.
But this place is too vast,
This place to wide.
They are innumerable,
And only one of each,
Of you and I.

So we remain,
Strangers in this strange tide.
Wondering why.
What is the purpose
Of this winding line,
When someone, somewhere,
After some time-
If you can say that
In place it isn't defined-
Handed down a gift
To every him and her,
An ant farm of forever,
Encased in ember.
Did you see the glint in the center?
Illuminating some ant inside.
Whose eyes is it reflecting off
I wonder?
It's rather familiar, I gather,
Is it yours? Is it mine? Is it his?
Is it hers?
Is it…
Don't you remember?
This is all of your time enclosed in ember!
Where your soul may freely wander!

II.

Those swarms of forgotten fireflies
Under that bike stand lights,
Those violet skies pulsating with
A unshakable fear of the unknown
In your naive mind,
Those galactic rides that you never questioned,
Whether they existed beyond the orange city lights,
Those callous hands and wizened eyes,
You were so afraid to be hopeful of seeing
Again
Beyond time, are
There,
At the end of the winding line,
And here,
In your hands,
In this Ant Farm of Forever,
Encased in Ember,
For you to freely wander-
All the choices you have made,
All the love you have loved,
That refuse to fade,
All the senseless days,
You wondered why you must face,
When you thought they will never stay,
Anyway.
Yet, here they are,
Basking in the sun rays.
Glistening with unobscured light.
Just like those same old,
Timeless times.
When the most earthly beings
When the most earthly things,
Were perfectly divine.
I think the concept for this poem came about a few months ago when I was reading the book Einstein's Dreams by Alan Lightman in which there were thirty somewhat fantastical short stories describing universes in which time works differently, or seemingly differently to ours. In one, time was about to end, and I had taken it to be describing a sort of growing block universe mode in which time is finite and had finished growing.

In trying to research whether or not there is a concept of a ‘grown block universe’ rather than growing block universe, I had stumbled upon a short summary of a paper I still have not yet read (PhD Dissertation in Philosophy of Physics by Pieter Thyssen titled: The Block Universe: A Philosophical Investigation in Four Dimensions) that apparently tries to argue for a block universe with free will. To paraphrase the summary, it was described as the block universe enclosing a timeline that was the result of choices by a free agent.

My mind immediately begins to wander like a child trying to see that world in ways that would make sense to its simplicity rather than to actually read the paper itself and see how it is described scientifically.

I was probably taken back to a concept I had described in another poem back in May 2020 that was inspired by an actual dream I had in which I was lifted up out of the universe and have it revealed to be an ant farm in a tank in some lab of sorts.

https://hellopoetry.com/poem/3869804/the-eternal-dream/

I had imagined this block universe with free will as an ant farm in which the free agents are the ants and the fill materials as the bulk of spacetime itself. It made sense to me at times as it is not:

Presentism of a slice of an ever changing present moment in which the past no longer exists, and the future doesn't exist yet.
Glowing block universe in which the crawled past continues to be, but the future the ant is crawling towards has yet come to be.
Eternalistic and fatalistic universe that's more like a diorama in which all of time, past, present, future is just there, and forever there, and time is an illusion.

I keep replaying the thought experiment in mind,
and some days this makes perfect sense, and other days I am completely confused.

I can think like the ant in the farm in which my consciousness is present one moment at the time, where the future is unknown, and the past exists as memories.

But I can never truly grasp the mind of a higher being that is physically omnipresent in every moment before, along, and beyond the ant's journey where every moment is just as capable of being acted upon.

Thus, this poem is rather more of my mind’s attempt to find an answer to the purpose of the persistence of certain mundane yet divine feeling moments in life.

And I'd imagine we would each be gifted our own Ant Farm of Forever one day in eternity, where we can wander through those moments of forever over and over.
dead poet Dec 2024
a brick in the wall -
an ant crawls into a crack;
becomes family.
Nat Lipstadt Jun 2024
~with thanks to T. Riddle for the inspiring photos~

there are color photos of budding nascent fruits,
an unexpected delivery to the eye’s inbox
exuding new youthfulness in
variegated shades of green
and

solitary ant traveler on a leafy space shuttle,
making its way, crossing galaxies
drinking from eye-drop seas
living off the land
and

life bursting out unreservedly asking for
no favors, nor recompense but to
breath, drink of soil nutrients,
to live to give back more
than it takes
and

to be chosen, plucked, torn from its environs,
to be the fruit of sustenance and a
delivery system to pass on its
****, tasty, enhanced flavors,
its seeded progeny the
chance to same
and

the ant travels on and about fearless,
its mini-size and sure footed body
leaping leaf to leaf to live and
to be fruitful and
multiply
and

multiple multipurposed prayers multiply,
of human origin, as humans blink at the
new-life miracles repetitious, wistfully
wishing every prayer, could be
answered thusly so lusciously
but

this it cannot be always, so we accept
as best we can, small proofs,
of regeneration, life eternal,
wetting browned, dark
soil with blotches of
salty damp-tears
encased within a
moment~eased
hopeful heart
7:52am
Sabbath Sat.
June 8
2024
Ken Pepiton Jan 2023
Holy business,
steady work, hunting and gathering

hearing ears and seeing eyes
deafen'd and blinded,

by the rent sky demanding all
attention,
now, insider, consider,
be as wary as the ants
scouting my kitchen for a season,

while I remain safe and warm, and
welcoming, for now,
wishing to know how the foragers
bring the team
I may easily imagine, the harvesters,
happy as ever any ants must be,
working bits of a tiny empire
seeking shelter from the storm…
-- I found this while researching pere in experience.
David Hilburn Jan 2023
The next act, of adrenaline
Supposed forces, to win a kinder stare
Through the looking glass, as if shine
Is a wall to itself, patience and their horses, fare

A race to the more, ever and stone sore?
Of a friends cleverer smile...
Same to how, we found your quarrel
With me, a simpler distance to while...

Mean or main stay...
This moment, made for the devil and the blue sea
Meant, in time with sour notion, pain
Is the only force we see, for a man or woman in love, deem...

A hat of errors, that knew you for a wiser momentum
A whine of distant feelings, that shares the known, to be
A callous share in proof, that has the time to question a room
A singing candle? awake at the touch of a lover, is my kiss anarchy?

Hate a rhyme to begin, with a resolve in the rage of another?
Spite, carnal license, and hopeful sycophants of a rule of thumb
With your name on it, and my cares, the risks of loving a bother
With your needs and vice, as a charity we will know is succinctly won...

Heroines, with a table to eat from, timidly share a savior
******'s, with a resolute few, is here to skip the wisdom of done who
Hero's, with a tap to ply and explain, are a safety's warrior
He, with an excused hand has a reason to be, to the patience we do too...
A request from hell and back, that has no final kiss, but rages mind...? What if a silent kiss for purposes unknown, was yours?
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