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eleanor prince Mar 2017
clawing at 'reality'
I strain
object
fight

slice fetid air
with mind's
willing blades

poised to sense
slay
threat

yet all the while
computations gather
holding conference
council within

weighing
measuring
attempting recognition

so labelling begins
imagining potent blows

yet standing back
storm's curt reminder
and all I survey and rate

mocks
informs
this is largely
of my own making

with meaning assigned
spawned of generations of
programmed thinking
fed by muddied bias

perceptions skewed
tortured to fit
fear's *******
power's price

with illusion's
dragon slain
I face
the truth

this state within
maelstrom
of angst

I
alone
create
inspired by NB's astute observations on my last poem...
Do I believe there is love?
Of course
Yet it is hard to say that I have experienced such a thing
And in that it is just as hard to try and justify to anyone that there is, in fact, love

I do not know what is sadder: That I have not experienced love or the way I am responsive to it

I know who I am supposed to love
But it is no love that I can tell

But this is the truth:
I know of hate
Hatred I believe in
Hatred I am all too familiar with

I suppose I could be so enveloped in my own self-hatred
Comparing all other things to me that I love almost anything and anyone

So from my conclusions I extract this:
Because I participate in the deepest and most strewn out of hate
I know that it exists
Therefore, love, comparative to my involvement in hate, can only lead me to an assumption:

If hatred exists, then so must love
Alan S Bailey Apr 2015
I'm a magician,*

Everywhere, every day I do magic, the magic that no one sees,
It is quite silent-the kind you can't hear, the forest for the trees.
Changing, rearranging the whole world "as good as new,"
Flash of fire lightning and rain and a sea was parted too!
Frightened figures hold each other, the earth it shakes,
The vaguest of lost lovers, the energy each marriage takes.
I'm  a person on a mission, I'm a magician, pulling rabbits
Out of hats, telling people run for cover from the "vampire"
Bats. I'm a stranger on a mission as a faith magician what
Could it be? I'm here to preach to you about a God
You can not see! So now that I've told you all that
He's real he is all that you will ever know or feel.
Amitav Radiance Mar 2015
Imagined dialogues
Occurs in the mind
A rendezvous with self
Many do not see light
Revolves within
The corridors of mind
Heart privy to them
They do not find words
In silence they come alive
Mind as the host
Imaginary dialogues
So many conclusions
And many more clamors
None settles down
Some may find a way out
Others will be left
To their fate
DRPQ Feb 2015
you make me less of a reality by putting me in a box

is it too much ask that you should hope a little?

"don't jump to conclusions," you'll say

but darling, ever will I try to reason this out because I'm scared of our one true final conclusion

which I still am to figure out
Beleif Jul 2014
A Billion Stories
Book III: Conclusions
Part III: The Doubtful Little Fish


Mama?
May I peek beyond the line of the waters?
Papa?
Might I see the source of the light in the seas?
For what purpose is land if its borders are foreign?
For what purpose is light if its maker is sheet?
For what purpose is life if it starts in a reef? 
Does death wait on the shoreline?
Or does a fellow who greets?
Beleif Jul 2014
A Billion Stories
Book III: Conclusions
Part III: The Snake of Enlightenment


Let him think!
Let him, have seen!
Beauty should not be an opposable thing!
Wisdom is greatness! 
Go hide from the group!
My love is not laughter,
My love is for truth!
Don't bid farewell to everything!
Don't look at the scene in reverse!
And let wisdom be shown,
But not only for words!
Beleif Jul 2014
A Billion Stories
Book III: Conclusions
Part I: Unified Field Theory


Created by love,
Created by magic,
Created by mercy
The venom is tragic.
Pull the threads,
Roll the yarn;
Sew the man to understand.
Let him love,
Let him wilt,
Let him speak and
Let him think.
Do not tell, 
Keep me hidden,
Let him find out for himself.
Nicole Alyssia Apr 2014
The sun rises
I wake every morning
Into a deep sleep,
Teetering between reality
And a vehement dream

Ah, the latter
A playground of torrid fantasies,
Credible delusions,
False conclusions.

I don't really like it here
This dark, chaotic, hostile place
A reflection of the deep, recesses
Of my subconscious mind.

I meander the fine line
Between these two worlds
Unable to voluntarily choose
Which I will participate in

Psychosis? Not entirely
I am well aware of the discrepancy
Yet, the pull of the latter
Is much too strong

It lures me in...
Offering solace in the form of
Anger, denial and doubt
Comforts I have grown accustom to

Time and time again I succumb
Defeated.
You see, the battle is not with you
It is within myself

— The End —