#automatic poems on Hello Poetry

Bea Mecum Jul 2018

In the window of dreams

I showed you a sword

to wield as a peasant

and not as a lord

a sword that is not weapon

a sword which is a tool

to empower the wise

but burn the hand of a fool

In a time not so distant

when you open your eyes

wield this sword as a gift

but not as a prize

for this sword

that is trusted with you

should guide you to light

and save what is true

#spiritual #occult #sword #dreams #automatic #writing

Bea Mecum Jul 2018

Scorpion Hawk

There once was a scorpion

who lived under a rock

who dreamed every night

that he was a hawk

in dreams he would soar

through the night's skies

searching the seas

for his most wanted prize

there was always a scorpion

who was truly a hawk

but at the end of each night

he would crawl under his rock

He would continue to do this

until he got his true wish

that someday he would catch

a lightning like fish

There will be a bird

who once was a hawk

who lived as a scorpion

under a rock

a bird so colorful

because he got his true wish

that one day he'd catch

a lightning like fish

#spiritual #zodiac #automatic #writing #scorpion #hawk #animal

Bea Mecum Jul 2018

The Time of Man

There once was a king, a prince and a Queen

Who lived in the time of man.

The king could not hear the cries of his land

for he just did not understand.

So the queen took his throne with the cast of a stone

and devoured all the gold in the land.

But the prince wanted peace, so he took on this beast

without a sword in his hand.

The battle went on, no victor was named

for that was the time of man.

#spiritual #psychic #automatic #writing #occult

Bea Mecum Jul 2018

9th House of Light

Step into the 9th house of light
grow towards the love that is beyond earthly boundaries
and understanding enter into all joy,
and do this without judgment,
and without selfish burdens fear is without faith,
and jealousy is without understanding or respect
enter the 9th house of light,
and all beauty may be tasted without limitations
what you may see as a test, is not you can not fail
it will show you the way to the 9th house of light,
and is not a test on your worthiness to enter
all are worthy in the 9th house of light
where shall one enter?
without judgment of others, without judgment of self,
without stigma or taboo
this is the key to limitlessness allow yourself to become unrestricted open to all that is within you
without fear of judgment
let flow the truest love from you
within the 9th house is the secret to the truest, formless, boundless love
the heart of creation all were meant for this realm
to leave behind doubt to leave behind judgment
to leave behind fear seek others who dwell within the 9th house, and invite others to enter all are worthy
There is no part unworthy all is made whole

#spiritual #automatic #writing #light #enlightenment

Cardboard-Jones Jul 2018

She's An Addict

Stuck in a life full of tragic
She wants to leave
And find her magic.
No, she’s not erratic.

Hides all her pride inside the attic
Of her mind
It's all just static
No, she's not dramatic.

She slips again, and starts to panic
She’s sinking fast
Like the Titanic
It’s just a habit, it’s automatic.
This isn't fairy tales that you read
It's ****** her dry she can't even bleed
She’s falling apart all over me.

She's in her room on the phone
Crying to me
That she's alone.
Her mind is stuck in traffic.

A pile of dreams under the bed
Once full of promise
Now torn to shreds, can’t admit it’s dead.

She tells me what she thought it would be.
Like it is on tv.
She’s no longer in the scene.
She picks it up right where she left it,
On the floor, she can't forget it.
This isn't magic.
This isn't habit.
This isn't tragic.
It's automatic.

#tragic #magic #habit #automatic #shattered #addict

IrieSide Feb 2018

Irie

Movement of time collides
with tear drop melody
darkened angel
to final day symphony:

gun blasts in homeland
enter familiar flesh-
different tongues conceal
common threads that makes us

wounded souls call for God
in bomb dimpled lands-
far from American eyed reach
and inside

amidst spiritual sands

Treading with foot print patterns
around rock’s pure holiness
meditating in temples
laden in gold tributes

seeking truth’s distant comfort

guns blast in homelands
families wonder why-

pain embraces consciousness
dripping hints of salvation
into thick Iron pools
of Christ’s calling

red horse not so distant
seven seals awakening
run back to one
it’s time to find love

The tragic happenings of todays time.

#life #tragedies #school #shootings #death #destruction #automatic #guns #weapons #blood

CAM Dec 2017

Auto correct

I was fixing some of my poetry,
Just now.
I went to type something.
But autocorrect somehow works like fate.

I figured it would be something simple.
Like changing a few letters.
But I didn't get just that.
It auto corrected to your name.

And I miss you.
So much I can feel the empty cavity
Where my heart isn't simply because...
It belongs to you.

I keep feeling this pain.
And sometimes I wonder why.
Why you aren't here,
Why I can't see you.

I wish we could facetime,
Or text or relay
Messages through friends
So I could talk to you again.

But I have seven and a half months
Yes. I've been counting.
In my head and out loud.
On the days I need grounding.

And I miss you
I miss you
I miss you
I miss you

I miss you every day
All the time
And I don't know why I can't seem to stop.

...
Stupid autocorrect.

I don't know why it did that, but his name popped up and inspiration struck. Maybe I've just typed his name to often...

#automatic

Chris D Aechtner Mar 2017

Snag: 10 Minute Prose

A plastic bag is snagged in the branches where I can't reach to stop its crackled song. The bag is an *****—its kidney? Stomach? Heart?—of the thing that's dying. The thing's given pills and powders, and graveyards are robbed to replace its parts. When it dies, it'll be brought to the taxidermist to be stuffed, and its stiffened corpse will be strung in lights—a beacon for people to arrive, two-by-two, and scoop out the void from behind its glass eyes. And when the void has been doled around, the dead will shuck, jive, and shuffle step to plastic song.

March 25th, 2017

The 10 minute time-span of these exercises includes any punctuation and other cohesion that I add after the words have streamed out.
__________

When the plastic bag rustles in the wind,
I hear its crackled song as an omen heralding in another phase. No matter what happens, only the moment is ever assured for us.

#stream #automatic #spark #abyssandsummit #digitalizeddystopia

Àŧùl Feb 2017

Kalashnikov 47

My name is Atul Kaushal.
Atul has 4 characters,
While Kaushal has 7.
This was the reason,
The reason to dub me AK47.

#gun #automatic #assault #ak47 #rapid #rifle #kalashnikov