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I


time end
beginning
past
good bad
was
now you see
say
this be nature

things inevitable
in the grand scheme
this be nature
so

call absurdity to
old man on side of street
who with sign calls god
god god god see

for god
say he

so he point
mouth and brain
say very
primitive you be
see
this be nature

this this
be nature
see?













II

remember
time was
two
were you
three i
recall
not
mind
disorientation
as grow old

there be
distant memory
be you kind to me
distant memory.
time be conceptual
conceptual be time.















III

feet press
shingle beach
cut through
soul
wherever

snap
like
in form of
imitation of heart

associate















IV

all this

                                                           ­                           drifting

            swimmer



     ­                                                                 ­                                  exist






                   ­                                boulder



take
                                                                ­                    all
                                         ­                                                                 ­                              
                  end all






               ****
The word is meaningless unless you associate it. Four reflections on the banality of language, and the conflict between the spirit and the flesh.
Salvador Kent Feb 13
time end
beginning
past
good bad
was
now you see
say
this be nature

things inevitable
in the grand scheme
this be nature
so

call absurdity to
old man on side of street
who with sign calls god
god god god see

for god
say he

so he point
mouth and brain
say very
primitive you be
see
this be nature

this this
be nature
see?
the first in a series of deconstructions.
time makes things inevitable.
fireheart Jan 17
It started with a kiss.

A burn of acid across my cheek,
It's poisoned implication:
"Here, this is the woman you seek."

It followed with thirty pieces,

The weight cumbrous in hand.
Your wine and bread so exquisite,
Suddenly fell flat, turned to sand.

It climaxed with Damascus,

Truth a blinding light across my eyes.
I'd betrayed all I am for silver,
Cheered as you shaped my demise.

It ended with a field of blood.

My innards spilled onto the ground,
Blooded hands foraging:
"I was lost but now I'm found."
This is written from a place of faith deconstruction, of feeling as if I betrayed who I am and what I know through another's coercion and false promises.
Marie Dec 2020
Emotion bottled and shaken
to the point of explosion,
Risking a state of total destruction
With the simple rising of a raging white cap,
Twisted by the stormy hands of inner turmoil.

Slapping waves of reaction
Against mountains of addictive distraction,
Causing one an internal Mexican standoff,
Presenting a decision, diamond in the rough:

Raise the white flag of resistance.
Offer yourself some relief assistance,
Breathing in a meditative manner,
Setting a slow releasing standard,
Steadily releasing emotional pressure
In a controlled state of measure;
Or
Find yourself dead on the floor,
Having exploded in an internal combustive roar,
Because you fought to hold in the building Pressure.
Attempted cognitive deconstruction,
Neglected yourself thriving construction,
Fearing your own atomic reaction
to the explosive emotional canter.

Either choice resulting in emotional disruption...
Eruption,
But only one in total annihilation.

-Marie Moldovan ©️ 2020
Pauper of Prose Aug 2018
The pasture lays abandoned
The barn is bare
The fields grown overripe
Fences lay fallen
Roads returning to dirt
Not a single tool lifted
Nor a single human whimper
Nay a cry from any creature
Had been heard for many eons
And one may wonder
Of the perished and of paradise
For Earth lay singing
While all else is silent
And some long for music
And some long for quiet
And all long for something
And some long without knowing
And some long for things long gone
And some long just to go along with others longing
And some are just so winded from being long winded in longing
So longings lengthen,
Filling us to the brim with hollow wants
And this perfect paradox becomes
Pandemic
Dakota J Dawson Dec 2017
Pop music and Alaskan ice
Whiskey is cool and I'm blue
So too are the bloodied few

Smoke rises and inspires
Creation spirals into anew
Sending geysers ski high

Letting go the rigers of life
A summon of ice
Falling of snow flakes

Seasonal prices are here
Signs gripping onto holsters
Finding *** and coal

Air stale
Quietly rancid
Unholy desperation of breath

Job is old
Feeble are the bones
Lost is the soul
Dismantle your convictions
Break them beyond recognition
Into the smallest parts imaginable
For those fragments of atoms
Build us up.
Tommy Randell Feb 2017
I love all the fractions of you
The impossible recurrences
Your limited coherence

Your infinite indices and surds
I want all the fractions of you assembled
Into something that can be inferred

A calculus of changes
Your moods and geometries
The simple graphs and intricacies

Ripped apart and redrawn
Such integrations are demanded
If you are to be conformed

The bipolar states
Of your boundary conditions
All the fractions and translations

Do they make any kind of sense?
Is how we define you to be
At all what was meant?

I take you apart, I put you together
The pages of theories
Just an unending treatise

Failing to reach any conclusion
No Quod Erat Demonstrandum
Just Reducto Absurdum

You are a fact of the world
Irrational but constant
The ultimate unity, impossibly distant

Computationally illusive but beguiling
A puzzle and a pathway, inspiring
A clue the Universe has some kind of wiring.

Tommy Randell 16th February 2017
I just thought for a change I would use words from one of my other Languages - Mathematics, of course - to say something about Love being a Universal constant and that Loving means there might be meaning in the Universe too ...
Akemi May 2016
the bottle twists
glass falls in drifts
and air parts like flesh

there’s a terror beneath this city
trucks enter from out of town and shake the power lines
passing without pause

sometimes birds gather for days
chirps grow exponentially
before tailing into silence;
heather and brimstone
little bodies roll to the edges
and burst on the streets in red regalia

a somnolence keeps the city forgetful
time flows in fits
a streetlamp; a raven; ten gravestones
it all runs without moving

vessels dilate
hands hold themselves

there’s nothing to breathe with
an empty chalice, turned on the hour grants
heaving clenching writhing
an ocean of rust
bulb shatters, blood spills out her
mouth cave head turn faith
the world remakes itself
*******
the colour of sunflowers
bicycle chains
thirst
colonialism
wet paint

emptiness over emptiness
act without agent
lack lack lack lack lack lack lack lack lack lack lack
peel the flesh and find flesh
always more flesh
don’t stop they know better
chirp chirp chirp
turn
exit
substance
purpose
nothing
4:45pm, May 1st 2016

the broken frame; the endless egress
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