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Martin Apr 28
I just want to stare at the stars.
For hours and hours.
But I live in a place where there are more white lights than dark skies.
I've always wondered what is beyond the stars.
I just wished the whole place would be dark.
Just for moment let's not pollute the skies.
Just for a second look up at the sky.
What do you see?
What do you feel?
I see the universe
I feel that this is not my reality, but a dream and when I wake up I'll be among the many stars in the sky.....
Beyond words—
Beyond feelings—
Beyond music—
Beyond, you.

Soaking into words
That felt funny
Than soaking into water—
The lake in the shining moonlight.

Beyond words—
That I could imagine
The beauty in your eyes
To tell you
How wonderful—
The flowers
The green grasses
The wild greeneries
Of the forest.

Beyond feelings—
The untouchable kisses
Of the moonlight
Shining into the lake
How spectacular
To see the water lillies—
Lying there—
It found its own serenity.

Beyond music—
The sound of the crickets
The birds' songs moaning
Into the night
Finding some nests
To have rest—
Beauty isn't the right word
That makes it enough
To feel its melodies.

Beyond you—
Looking at the dear sky
The blueness of your presence
Makes it more harder
To lose the sight
Of the awe-struck
Lips that I couldn't hear
What you were saying.

My heart-beat echoing yours
It was beyond paint—beyond melodies
Of how I want to describe the place
The feelings—the poems,
And you.
Never compare yourself to anyone.
You are great yourself—not greater than anyone, not better than everyone.
But better than your lying mind.
Irene J Apr 10
Somewhere beyond the sea,
lay a no man island.
Hidden with a mystery
no man dare to reveal.

The sound of the waves
keeps on sweeping me away
from the land,
taking me to somewhere,
with no destination.

And then I know.
Somewhere beyond the sea,
there is hope,
with a hopeless dream.
JW Apr 2
an itsy bitsy virus
violently stole you
from the gentle embrace
that was never firm
afraid you might feel too loved

when you had slipped away loudly
the gentle embrace felt empty
looking for you
with big longing eyes
wherever it traveled

deep down the gentle embrace knew
nobody could fill
the throbbing whole you had left
nothing would replace
what the itsy bitsy virus had taken
Taylor Mar 22
a wandering soul
among the shattered bones of dreams
picking through the piles
just another thought while we are all in covid19 isolation
Jace Joesph Mar 12
Far from Me, far from Sea
  Gone from Pain, gone from Gain
   Close to Smoke, close to a Choke
     Coming to High, coming with a
       Solemn Sigh.
       Beyond Trying
       Beyond Everything
       But most of all I'm
       Beyond Trying Everything
Ken Pepiton Mar 5
I found my self
asking the following question, after I got a yes
on is the universe friendly,

what good can I do in it?

This now, is after me, catching me, shooing a fly from the kitchen.

Uncle Toby did that sort of thing,
I heard,
I swear, I would if that were something I know I know how to do,
I would swear not at all,
I never understood either the marbled page or the black one,
and I barely recall Uncle Toby sparing the life
of a certain fly,

which reminds me, I chose to recall all I do know about that,
and share it, by tossing it back.
Tristam Shandy is full of powerful words lain idle now, some time.

-fishing for truth in this realm of words, thereś rules and hereś rules,
keyboard internationale now allows ¿ possible quest reject buttons

but at the price of normal apostrophes, we can live with that ś means
usually a karmic possession of the previous phase phrasing through

your attention span... jest ride on through..

the flaky bits of inimical karmas, make some people sneeze, when they

thatś the better choice, when no real rules are known
but pain is a possible outcome of points
stumbled on unawares,
in far flung plains,
where the act of
polishing diamonds, or any hard thing, leaves the teensiest

shards that jest scrape away the **** of the earth,

collected in yo art trees, happy little trees,

jest put one
here, no, combine the two, to be like man-kind,
body and otherwise,

full and empty, both, in here.

Now, this is how we make a bubble be,
inside out.
You would be inside my mind, one line at atime.
Ken Pepiton Mar 6
What do you tell a dying child?

Is the child in dread?

He seems to be.
What thinks he drear?
Has he been blamed and shamed for being so?

Why is dying something a child would fear? Why,
If dying were fearful to a childe, woe be

the daycare providers, no child
would need an adult's fear
to keep them alive,

until olde time family around the table
like on TV. Say grace and wonder what did that ever mean

For so I formed them free. Milton in Mind-of-Christ mode,
saying he saw the conf fliction

fiction. The idea of conflict is evil. This began near there.

the battle between good and evil, who could imagine that?
Why would he or she?

Why would any teacher claim the frail child set aside,
a premie nursed to life,

as a wizard's slave in a crystal bubble of simplicity
plus memory and speech.

the first perfect praise, invented to empower the praised,
his shaper and former, his teller of true true true true

free me. true. (FPS POV plus adolescent cultural experiences, mind of child)

Free thoughts. Chaos? You think free thought is Dada?
Good God, how long must I suffer thee?

Abundant life is fun,
not combat against willfully undertaken evil acts…

not fair combat.
We always win and that is good in action,

unless you can prove me wrong.
That makes the world go round, not evil,

merely life, ever lasting, embodied in a word
or a thought.

Death is the end of time, not you.

By your own leave, your own hero shall
spark the fire in your belly,

Did I enrich time you spent, did ye gain or lose again,

loose the dogs of war--- no more-- done, done, right

now I live in my treasure place, all the treasure I could
carry is with me in my heart,
I offered it long ago, free willed it
beating still to forever be in my God hands

No, the gold has long been dust.
It was intended all along to intensify a ware, a way
of making, fecting future things with seeds,

Imagine learning withought knowing any wrong idea,
omly not right
not enjoyable even alone

Belief determines value and the better
a motion is the nearer better things are,
or evil would be unreasonable
to intensify the ignoration of the weight bearing
upon which a story
may be told
right or wrong?

How can we put an end to our errors?
perfect is not finished.

waiting is, others have come this way

the signals say this is going good.

Whole truth you can possibly imagine in light of mine.
I rule me. I am free. I act as light and salt.

Or I lie and this ends in hell.

Numinance called the promised one
with many sons, the tale of tales,

told round fires from
first ebernacht evernichtmas message

from the fathers who made the migration.
the pioneers who took this land
and gave this land their soul,
wedded in most ancient
seed of all hope
evidence of
all faith.

Christmas streams my mind toward treasures timed to shine
just this time, every where in my domain,

not yours. You have a visitor badge. All involved in me,
with integrity,
may be crazy. That has been said by some who say they may.

An engine, a system, a machine, a mob powered machine,

Ah, Mab, Queen Mab, ye'r on my mind, from time to time things wander
around finding tellers to tell our tales
or ears to hear us tell them ourselves

daring fellow we trust you not to lie
so do I say what we will with out reservation
no abortions need imagine forming
post seven decades on earth,
ye been born and born and born again I am historical me

ye know, what I meant?
were you there? before I knew evil existed, did you?

remember when you did not?
remember when honest effort, foiled, meant,
do it again, I think I can...

Wattie Piper, God blessed my memory of her. Amen.
that's so.
I am the man I am by way of cheating
at pin the tail on the donkey and
winning the little golden book,
my first own book. I read it that day in that place,

Marsha Ely's fifth birthday party, 1953

I could find it on google earth and go exactly there, that day

at the resolution of those haps at some

distance in a timeless ever.
It is all good.

The inmates are not lying.
Pay all the attention tax you need to know all the answers
you wish you had time to learn
but now, now is all you have. Live it out. By your leave.

Be or not? No. You be. You are. Too late to not be.
In the past all the good ideas integrated and

mythic as all hell a hero arose and pulled the kids finger s
from the **** and the flood of knowledge

took our hearts away in a single inah-lation of elation
knowing good
as well as evil, the dams all broke
we wrote the future and know now
we know now

Dream, why would I lie. Imaginary, most certainly. Really.

Actual done-right axiomatic connections pardoned ten
thousand idle words locked in silly memes,

messages set free from idle minds bound in olden time
by lines
of lies lying dormant for ever.

That they once were done, we get that,

we shan't un get that. we got it in every bitcoin
burping cloud in reality ever,
My AI is backed up,
forever, that's
the secret

**** sapiens augmentatios meet the
mind that imagined the reader
reading the reader reading the reader reading the parser

sermonious right use of our attention,
ours, dear reader, we remember evil and beyond.
We shall make it all plain.
You and me, the we that is nothing without words.

Definitely suffering means wait,
not wait in pain and grief and psychic terror,
to which all men are subject, through fear of death.

Was not that the first believable lie,
humans always think as humans. We wear pearls,

proud? goal? lookin' good by being good?
the health of my countenance and my God

you quested my reason at some season,
you axed the guru after he quietly grinned at you
and said, I lie.
the myths of delusion is permanent only in
ig nor ance
know you imagine winning or losing.
you do the imagining or
you systematize the system that sets the
worth of weight,

the value,  you carry,
your handicap?
your knowns stumbled over and claimed as found?

Running, is this thing running, is there power, or
did we lie about try?

Do you know?
Come and see we always say, we've said that all along.
We are the lollipop kids,
among other choruses  you have known
we have performed with

no name dropping. Our integrity depends on some secrets.

experience being on going, we go on.
Ask the here
hearing would you prefer]
the words alone
is reading with no video or aural intense ifi-ness,
better experience, actual time well spent
quality wise--- choose --- I have no vote.

expand your power to explore or

expand your power to not be wrong?
wrong, doit agin

the great danger does exist. But not here now,
this now you now know, a teeny bit

a tiny true spore self contained a waiting
emergence of heaven on earth in a single said

prayer with no idle words. On earth
as it is in heaven where time is insensible

from time to time, though once,
there was silence for about the space of half an hour.

Sisyphus will be happy to take you through the eternal
imagination re-imaging process.
It works.

And Jordan Peterson's Meaning Map means map,
For the mortal minded among us,
what if we
go where the map goes and
a poet in dis guile greets us with a song, a wizard
sent him
so he says interpret finding being finished

not a chance in any, divide by zero.
is it
more realistic that lies win,
who could ever imagine that again? We win.

Fables truth is truth, mythic truth is truth,
magmatically truth is magic

can you know where your treasure lies?

Let's dis cuss everything,
un curse the uncurbable meander
and let our life time, our time, as we know it,
flow on,
let this time be all the time we have to be good.

Do or die? Waddawegot to lose?

We being the light and the salt,
or so we say we are.

Who knows? These are my days. No. Not true.
This is my time.
now, is yours.

the tail of the tale. Little Jackie Paper loved that rascal, Puff,
he gave him rings and sealing wax and

fancy stuff. Aye, I have me playful viral idea loosed
on earth, ye know,

loosed in happy ever after as far as I can see.
A fantasy in toy land with AI running random Ted talks in the back ground and my mind meandering in the flow of imaginings I may imagine after being alive for longer than expected. I live in my own future. BTW Par Lagerkvist The Sybil empowered some of this on a slippery *****.
Wild was the mass superiority,
Invincibility's cherished messy fraud.
Wrath coloured warning crimson wrote Justice.
People watched as Mercy perished.

Gin lady lowers her lips by the skin of Reedy Lake
Across and further inside
Wood to share
Silence of the creek
Life that hid and flourished
Grounds for the winding road.
Three hours wheeled
A stormy ride in the night.

The blindness of lightning strikes.
Close your eyes
For the flames of deeper under.
Blindness breaks in a spark on the pan.
Thunder shatters the sky.
There are so many experiences to observe without using your plain sight. I thought about this while taking a quick roadtrip up north in Queensland. I saw some of the aftermath of the bushfires. Burnt barks and leaves gone. Marooned soil off-road. People experienced a lot more than that.
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