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Hurricanebabe Apr 17
I blink and I am standing
I blink again and I am on the floor
I blink again and people are all around me
Is this life?

Are we always blinking thinking something good will happen?
And then when nothing good happens we get sad and discouraged?
I blinked three different times and I saw totally different situations.
Is this the bad or good of life?
Ken Pepiton Mar 14
Chaucer. Cantebury Tales Thunk Another Time

might be
unimaginable to most

Urbanites of several recent generations
in
These untie-ted states

city folk have never told stories
by the mile,

with piles of rocks marking trail tailin's

so old
that trail, marked by that pile o'rocks been
so long since foot trod that path

only scratches on the rocks say which way we
all
got
here. Today, as we call it.

Hueta, esta dia, right now

here. Walk a while, we're off to find reason
to believe.
Someone I heard thinks we all do.

I believe we do.
---Wha'bou' un believe? D'jewthank we'all'kin?
kin we all un be lieve,
leaven well left alone, hill folk, some say...

...hidden things thought thank worth,
beauty, as an idea,

for instance.

Sunsets.
... ...Yes, and the early morning does
have gold
{}
In'er mouth,
privilege all ovahdat.
Got the rot
all dug

dig it, all dug out cavity, crowned in gold

turn that empty cavity inside out, the wise hermit's cave is paved.
Plenty room for all his eukaryotic friends

then flouride, po-luted our ****** fluids.

Play that song on that ***'ar wit thraystrangs, po'man lute
Jew or juice harp
poing poing poing y'ken?

and keep time wit' the walkin' drum. Do that
dentist drill dance, then sing us a
song o'six penitents
patient sufferers o'the way thangsbe,

left well enough alone.

Strange love was to my tale as, that Bannon guy
might be today. Trump's last quarter email player?
Y'know the guy. He's Youtube famous. Bannon,
(Steve,

or Bruce? )
No, Bruce Banner, was the hulk of burning credulity, the pile
symbol
driver. Digging down to bedrock
.... That's how the Macedonian kid did, at Tyrus. ( ify'wishy'knew)

Pier pressing past the farthest reach of tide.

Past where pearls take graunular expansion to

knackerin' gnosymagi  levels of possible hidden glory believeable by few.

Teller, the infamous Mr. Teller, he taught me duality.
Im balance, make fission, break, slam fuseconfuse, blow

don't burn the whole higgsian bubble to expel the very idea of anti matter, it may be useful,
rightusable or ible

Moby grandular totally tubular, what a clam can do.
According to that story, why not feed swine pearls? I'll tell you.

we may come back to right here, this here here,
if 'n' only

if we do not forget where we saw that

landmark a cient elder mustaset

Straggler mumbler, you okeh? Y'got a story.

I'll listen. It's yetawhile
t' can't we bury it.

---
is the granularity of perception adjustable or ible?

We are li'ble to learn, 'fwee

live so long. Said the old caned creature, in the way back.


-------
At the edge of credulity, eh

how far is how ever, far or ever, time space

same same, but

right. Re
al ity ness realreal reason able ibility

we, you and I, this state of least sharable ible ness
we, at this point,

dancing hermetical waxen winged shoes into flames. Teller level flames.

-------
what lies did I un believe? All of'em.

You seem real. (dear reader)

A pier past the last tugged tide, into the deep

-----

peace, in fly-over country on a sunny day.

Ah, where I live, there in
my peace valley overwitch the marines fly every day

and I talk, in my revery, basking in the sun with my lizard brain in heaven
I talk to the cadre controling machines named for
subjected peoples, Apaches of all sorts.

I knew Johnny. And I knew his brother, Jonah.

Johnny Appleseed and Jonah Whalepuke.

They could been twins, save
the smell and wind's role in the story, when it all

stirs. SSTop and ask, dear reader, is this safe, this place?

Adlebraned idyl word forms framing un imaginable worlds.

Goodness gracious sakes alive gnostic means

you know. Here's one we agree on:

Heretic tic, there a tic tic time you re

call the warning bout finding one's ownself in the book of life?

This is that. You can't get past it on your knees,

this is the bar, you don't pass it, you cross it.

Who inherits the wind if the meek inherit the earth?

inspire expire it is breathing, all the way down.

bubbles. ity bubbles ify bubbles some time bubbles

awefilled imagined bubbles in bubble forever,

mazed bubble pops

those aren't real. Gnostic heretic is one who thinks
he thinks and has all the knowledge

in the real world,

in his hand, and
it ain't even five gee. We can go faster or deeper. You choose.
We gotta understand what standing and under mean as a thing

we can miss. aitia indicates wisdom is not pre packed with
understanding.

She says, you should know by now.

Nothing missing, nothing broken, though ye walk

through the valley of
your own shadow death as I drip drip drip

hear me, gotcha once, gotcha twice

ripples in time can you hear me now?

Thanks.

Seed. Time. Harvest. Information re
garding the entire process

was intentional. You reap what you sow. That is kharma.

Life ain't fair eventually. The good guys always win. It's in the hermit's will.

You can read. It's said, the man
wombed or un, who can and don't's no better armed then than
the critter that can't

read the sign that said stop.
Funeral musings
Autumn Marie Nov 2018
I gave you my all, and watched you choose better. I gave you my all, because you promised me forever.
     I gave you my all, while you went behind my back. Was it because she had what I lack?
      I gave you my all each time you wanted to leave, because I didn’t see I was being naive.
     I ranted and I quoted, “no he’s devoted”. Looking back, I feel I’m in the midst of a heart attack.
     I don’t know what to do, I’m simply lost without you.
     I gave you my all and ignored every warning, even when I knew; soon I’d be in mourning.
    Mourning the love you had for me, as I slowly watched it flea.
Do you know what this has done to my insides? It divides my head from my heart. And that’s only the start.      
   I’ve given you my all, and you’ve made me feel so breathtakingly small.
   Please I beg of you; tell me, why wasn’t I enough?
Is it because I’m messed up? Or that my words come out a little rough?
    I’ve never experienced this amount of numbness pouring from my heart. It really is ripping me apart.
Little Azaleah Nov 2018
with every word said
she became smaller & smaller.
"Who is there for you?"

of words that stab her heart
she now believes
& haunts her.
now she is as small as a bug.
"Who is there for me?"
as she herself couldn't be there for her.

[ e.i. ]
Maria Land Oct 2018
So I tried everything you asked,
I tried so hard I don't think I've ever tried this hard in my whole life,
I don't think I'm ever going to make it to where you want me, and I don't think it's fair that you only love me if I climb there,
At what point do I give up and accept that you're just an evil person?
By. alexa kae navarro

Nakikita mo ba?
Nakikita mo ba
Sa mga mata ko,
Ang hinanaing ng damdamin ko?

Nararamdaman mo ba?
Nararamdaman mo ba
Sa bawat ngiting pinapakita ko,
May tinatagong sakit ang puso ko?

Masaya ako sa paningin mo,
Ngunit kilala mo na ba ang totoong ako?
Masaya lamang akong lumalaban.
Pagkat alam kong ito'y aking laban.

Ngunit dumarating parin sa punto
Na sa gabing madilim at tahimik
Nais kong sumigaw, umiyak,
At ilabas lahat ng aking saloobin.

Pagkat sa pagsapit muli ng umaga
Muli nanaman akong magpapanggap,
Magpapanggap na masaya't
Ayos lang ang lahat.

Hanggang kailan nga ba?
Hanggang kailan paulit-ulit na ganito?
May hangganan nga ba ito?
Makakalaya ba ako dito?

Nais ko sa pagdating ng panahon
Muli akong makabangon,
At magpapatuloy sa paglalakbay.
Haharapin muli ang hamon ng buhay.
that is my feeling right now, I want to express my feeling through my poems..
Jenny Mar 2018
The moment you
arrived and
stayed here
inside my dreams, within
my reach,
along with my old past broken stitch,
I no longer
feel alone, deprived
unloved,
everything that un- could
be attached.
But
time became
my greatest enemy that weakens
the wall built by my army.
I found you there.
Far away from me filled of all the thoughts and feelings
that are unclear.
Now,
I got back to the time where everything is an un-, can't, dis-, not, and
then won't.
I am lost.
lost
in the moment that
turned
into memories.
Lost from
the track to
my genuine happiness.
Lost of courage to
take
a step towards
love again.
Lost
in pain. Lost
in thoughts. Lost in everything
that I thought
we were.
Lost in everything that you made me feel.
I was here but you escaped to be there and left me lost in the universe filled with hatred and despair.
What is it, that I'm not?
Though the ******'s  on the edge of this storys' plot,
Carrying my problems uncut
That within,  I was shot.

What is it that I don't have?
Finding me difficult for you to love.
I am not as numb of what you & they think I was,
But forever this feelings will last.

You plus him , was your dream,
Ignoring me at the not list stream .
This sight's torturing me ,
Without  happiness nor glee.

What is it that you hate?
Was it my ***** pride cape?
Or this edged heart shape?
What is it?
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