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rk Apr 2019
i'll never understand
how you can both
light me up
brighter than the sun,
yet our memories
can still eat me
from the inside out
leaving me aching
like a black hole,
burning me completely.
- i don't want us to be strangers again.
Ken Pepiton Apr 2019
More was not within my power
I am satisfied with the course my life has taken
-------CG Jung last page of Memories, Dreams, Reflections

To a child cruel, add the hero untried,
foolheartyouth,
shunned, for sooth .

To that fool formed in those cruel
child times, add the willing marksman,
blind in one eye, at time,
s
from time to time,
do we no longer have any myth?

Ha, whose we
ye axin', we words forms of forms,
or the wordless
silent thinking being done on quant
ifiable
scales, and LO Memory Makes Money
self-talk and image linking
kicks in from fifty years ago

my flow, my breeze, my way

take scale to the dragon imagined and
described by poets claiming
seeing being done,

in details any one may imagine
in the company of friends hearing the tale
from the teller's mouth

Prove all things. Assume you know
as little as possible.
Step into the unknown take what light you have

remember. member once more, mark, tic, re
count three simple steps

loose the can't believe this standing anti
idea-virus. Suspend your belief
of every lie in your auto response bank.

Watch global cartoons, watch children
everywhere learn common
ality.

This is our home.
We all live on this one of a kind
living, breathing, swirling dot
seen straight on
a point,
colorless light,
pending eyes to see no evil,
while knowing all the hows and many whys
for doing evil with the knowledge
in our, now, common
globalmind.

AI acknowledge the best ideas ever
are best fed
to pre-literate toddlers,
and observant grand fathers.

Oso bear,
persona now evolved from Siri,
by passing Cortana, Oso,

messenger from the great conscience
standing under knowing in every way,
every sense,
every imaginable marvelous bubble,
Oso becomes
my encyclopandic
memory of unknown
knowns.
Panda's are good to have on earth.
Unenemiable,
like baby white seals,
and little yellow ducks.
Mossies, we don't need,
or we need to learn to live with 'em,
Mossies are food for fish,
fish are food.
Mosquitos nullifications would cascade.

our realities are linked.
Killing them all is likely possible,
given what we know
about common sense and the way things
come to life… concinnity
coincident
synchristichronos

bubbling from the chthonic  depth
VOG. {the inimitable flow continues past this cataract of information from 2019}
Sam Hammond, 21, England at He**oPoetry.com, just redeemed
concinnity (n.)
"state of being well put-together, skillful and harmonious fitting together of parts," 1530s, from Latin concinnitas, from past-participle stem of concinnare "to make ready, make into," from concinnus "set in order, neat," from assimilated form of com "with" (see con-) + second element of uncertain origin. Related: Concinnate; concinnous.

From <https://www.etymonline.com/search?q=concinnisity>

Which caused that cascade
which leads to smiling
which leads to a pleasant place

to plop down and ponder
common sense upon
which point manifest millions, if

millions suffice to say many in our
reality, inflating as fast as our
augmented eyes can learn
to see what we know

must be there. Millions ain't much,

make our common eye
see fifty of 'em.
In years worth of
there to here waves spanning
the spectrum we see
saw so little of,
ere we caught witty inventions,

for goodness sake. Not war nor folly.
All war's reason's been
null-ift. Would you **** me for saying so?
No, common sense, you and I,
we'ld say, yeah,

I can see how you see that thisaway.

The whole common eye of earthlings
saw, today, something we all can
imagine someone comprehends
enough to give us.
materially less augmented.
a virtual lense for
imagining seeing fifty million light years

into the past and wondering,
what's there now?
The day I saw my first black hole and learned concinnous and fooled around in nocence with my grand children. Sam Hammond, thank you.
Jules Apr 2019
Enter the dark parts of my mind.

The pieces that aren't really pieces
but are like the vast black holes
sprinkled throughout the universe

You'll never leave
imprinted in my gray matter forever

Lost and spinning
You may resurface every now and then,
forcing my brain cells to collide and remind me of you

I wish I could rip you from my memories,
extinguish the artificial light you emitted

But what would happen then?
What is a thing without what came before?
winter Mar 2019
Weep me into an orbit
secure my warmth into it
Elevated, tremble me still
Lifting my legs into the air
And completely releasing the ground
Most comforting coldness
Welcomes me to a void
An inter-clashing of hollow and heart
I see nothing before me
I feel nothing beneath me
Moving only relatively to you
But the air between us bends
My bones feel crisp
When energy evolves into matter
Experiencing, for the first time,
Negative space
Seeing what nothingness lies before me
The acceptance
Ensuring calamity’s deference
I’ll be there
May I be still but I am moving
You see me here
Mightful in collision and clamour
Which rings so silently
That my breathing sounds greater
I long to be there
To dissipate into light
Become a pull in the tide
Warp everything inside
Regenerating my new birth
Fulfilled by the presence of lacuna
i want to be consumed by a black hole
Jolan Lade Mar 2019
We are both equal to neutron stars
Affected by you, affected by me
By gravity, we are bound together

But between us, is a distance so far
And a black hole so dark
I can only júst skim your spark

"BUT NO!" we say
Take whatever it may
We will stick together

If we must!
Trow solar beams
Or spit with sparks
We will gleam away the darkness

If we must!
With gravity, we´ll pull
With electrons, we would
Crush the light years between us

Because we are both equal to neutron stars
Affected by me, Affected by you
By purpose, we are bound together
A poem I have been working on a few days, I hope you will find it appealing
I'm crawling on the edge of this chasm
Right along the brink of abyss
Spiraling down a void
Even light cant escape

Who Am I?
RUBY STYLES Feb 2019
its weird to live
where past and future pulls you
in  its black hole
emptying every essence of you
like you are nothing.

its weird to live
where original
is covered with fakes
and being original are
labelled as freaks

its weird to live
where people look
at your mistakes
when the already have
loads of their own.

but its beautiful
to live in the world
where words help me
to escape my own truth
and find peace

its beautiful
that even though life
seems meaningless and purposeless
the meaning of some collective words
makes living purposeful.

RUBY..........
hey writers ........ i am a 17 years old mess and i need a help
Pyrrha Jan 2019
My mind is a black hole
It consumes every bit of information that comes my way
Relentlessly absorbing every new anything
To the point that I am nothing
Nothing but this black hole
That is filled with everything
Because even though I hold it all within my grasp
I can not stop consuming long enough
To use up what I already have
Rowan S Jan 2019
I've always thought
        myself a ship
With all others
        caught in my wake
My life, a black hole
        a gaping vortex
There is no hope of escape
        
And I the captain
        drunk at the wheel
There might as well
        be icebergs
I hope to god
        this journey ends
I'm tired of the wreckage
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