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hidden galaxy Mar 2019
people ask me if my brain has started rewriting itself
If my consciousness expanded to take up the space left behind in these two months of rapid decline
Maybe in the week my eye has refused to read street signs and text messages

I am asked If I start hearing people’s locations as my sight slips further out of my reach
as if this is a neotech drama about self awareness and I am Neo
I just need to wake up, take a pill and I will harness the Matrix

more aware of my lost ness of my smallness
Of how I am I insignificant and absorbed into the collective strangeness of a crowd

It is not a different kind of light or of seeing but a falling darkness and sensing things in the night, when bats are flying low and recklessly close. When I feel the current swell around me as the unknown let’s me escape in previously grandfathered ignorance.

Tonight I am not ignorant. I am looking at a blank and dismal map. It is not filled in in the slightest.
I am rust and berry pulsing within a thick cracked skin in a sea of unbeing, only aware of where I touch the raw, colorless, and endless universe
Intensely attenuated to my body curled in fetal position
against the thickest nothing I have ever encountered.

like a slumbering geode
Filled with colorful secrets
Poised to bloom
I wait
But rocks sleep forever
Two moons rise and one moon sets.
Spotlight captures the one who frets.
Caught unawares in pursuit of wonders.
Tears drops stain the gloves of blunders.
Slipped off to forget what we have done.
The gloves decay under rising sun.
One moon sets and another rises,
while the sun departs with myriad disguises.
If two moons were wed in sunlit dreams,
would we forego our plans for all good things...
Would pleasures unstitch our tidy strings
and delay our minds for fallacies to sing.
I admit I'm unsure.
Nevertheless I will try,
to wed the moons, to brighten the sky,
but beyond the celestial weapons of love,
an infinite yearning awaits our passion.
For there are many moons in need of another.
There are many suns that must shine on the two.
For at the end of the day you and I do not matter.
Wherever there is one, there must be two.
So I say to her, I must be with you.
Thinking about someone I adore.
Then again, if not her, maybe someone else eventually.
That's how they all say it works, right?
Many fish in the sea.
Here, I say many moons in the sky. Keeping in mind we only know the one. A little irony, eh?

Enjoy!

DEW
Matthew Feb 2019
A beautiful blue rose
unacknowledged to those
who seen in black in white
Rowan S Jan 2019
Some are more wild
The will to fight life and its control
Some are more beautiful
To others' eyes
To others' desires
Some are more wounded
Carrying past penetrating pain
Pulling powerfully, preventing prayer
Some are more watchful
Gazing so intensely
Their own life is rooted on patches of blind earth
Some are more
Than life
Than love
Some are more
Some are more...
Anthony Mayfield Dec 2018
Roses, bullets, and a Bible
Guided my life
A shine for my light
My happiness was never trifle
My smile was bright
My heart was kind

   Roses, bullets, and a Bible
   Blind my light
   Pervert my sight
   Not prepared for Blue
   Not by a mile
   But lost, through and through
   Youth's too cruel
      
      Roses, bullets, and a Bible
      Broken shards
      Build my scars
      Happiness is only trifle
      But maybe I'm still good
      I hope I can still be good
Hopefully
LPpoetry Oct 2018
She doesn’t know I’m here,
She doesn’t know of my existence,
I’m never seen with her,
Yet she’s inside my heart with persistence,
Her beauty, it torments me,
She is everything that I want and more,
But she is still blind to me,
Yet still her vision makes my heart soar,
I wish for this love to end,
Because seeing her fills my heart with pain,
Wanting this all to end,
Wiping my tears that fall like rain,
Now I’m standing atop this ledge,
Wondering if she’d know if I fall,
But I doubt that she ever would,
Because she doesn’t see me at all.
Jack L Martin Sep 2018
"I see what you mean!"
signed the deaf lady,
to the blind man,
who replied,  
"I'll pretend I didn't hear that!"
Hold tight to hope's embrace,
   wait...

I've heard this line before.

   This corridor I've walked along before,
I walk along once more.

Breathlessly tracing my fingertips along the walls as I stroll through the halls,
  
   Feel the infinitesimal imperfections,
akin to the ones in my mind.

Mind the gap.

Ahead here,
   is a dead end.

the point I cannot see past.

what,
What is behind my wall?

~Robert van Lingen
Samuel Canerday Aug 2018
For years, the darkness had encroached
until it stole all my vision, restless thoughts
But when I lay my weary head to rest
And set my soul to slumber, my body
Can remember that which once was
When my eyes were open and they saw,
They could truly see, and I,
With open eyes, now witness
The world and its beauties
Eyes gazing majestic upon
Sights and colors rebounded
Until the light of the dawn
Chases away the vestiges of
My visions of twilight glory
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