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❝ a man curses his self-created hell;
   a trap he weaved for himself
   that later on evolved
   into a labyrinth of intricate design

   his choices,
   the basis of his sorrow
   a product of ignorance
   that drowns him
   in the ocean of confusion

   he becomes lost
   in the prison of darkness
   floating in the sea
   of perpetual gloom

   searching for the light
   with eyes open
   but senses shut
   stumbling about for eons
   and eons

   blaming fate,
   but never himself ❞
annh Sep 2019
They spoke to me of evenfall and dayspring, the solstice and the equinox. They sang of eras, epochs, and eons. On indigo nights, they whispered in the owl light of alchemy and enchantment, wreathing my cot with an iridescence which illuminated my dreams and begentled my slumber.

At Hallowtide, they scribed lyrical pathways in the air and sculpted rainbow arcs. They celebrated the vernal majesty of April and October's autumnal reprise with moonglade pageantry and sunset flourishes. They conjured blackberry winters and gypsy summers, and laughed at my amazement, as if to say: ‘Told you so!’

As the years departed my second decade and encroached alarmingly upon my third, I began to question why they had chosen me; why we walked together apart and apart together. I wondered where the magic ended and I began, and I realised with the bone-breaking chill of the unwelcome inevitable, just how lost I would be without it.

‘Magic exists. Who can doubt it, when there are rainbows and wildflowers, the music of the wind and the silence of the stars?’
- Nora Roberts
Payton Jul 2018
You, earthling, how can you even
begin to attempt to fathom
what it means to live,
when you don’t bother
to attempt to fathom
what it means to love?

I’ve learned over the eons that
it may be air that keeps my lungs
full and my body alive,
but air doesn’t fill my heart
the way love does, and
air doesn’t breathe
life into my soul, the way
loving someone does.
Hollow Steve May 2018
It claims its victims,
one bite at a time.
Puncturing their veins,
******* out their inspirations.

They're dead,
and wondering the streets,
in search of things
long forgotten.

It's as plain as day,
as grey as old age.
It's an age old philosophy,
never to decay.

It prevails,
but nothing truly changes.
It stands tall,
but only handfuls see it.

Holding onto nothing,
life is suffering.
So it has been,
so it always will be.

If chosen to change
the landscape of an eon,
then eternity is nothing
but a miniscule point.

I am nothing...
So it has been,
so it always will be.
Congressman and senators forewent
all manner of civility, fidelity and integrity wii
hull ding broadswords, derringers
and exhibiting the right to bare firearms
as all hell broke loose as testimony
to the dire prognostication foretold

more than saber rattling and Gatling guns que
kind from lambastes, fisticuffs
and brickbats ratcheted up as agents provocateurs nee
said obedience to semper fidelis credo, coda and **** knee
stance when dire straits called for restraint

against excess versus raising cane old hickory
i.e. Andrew Jackson latched onto when opposing with energy
plus verve espoused by fellow delegates,
and his hologram ghost ******

from battle scars outside and/or inside
the halls of government where blows bashed
dovetailed elected legislators to officiate
as angry birds viz brouhaha clashed
Federalist against their nemesis

of the twenty first century
during the term of Donald Trump
who throve on the cutthroat frenzied
internecine lawlessness dashed
to and fro, hither and yon

any hopelessness for civilians to escape bloodshed
spilled from without vaunted halls of justice,
the approach of doomsday
writ large as anarchy and mayhem flashed
with uproarious coup d’etat,

when Democrats outliers gnashed
teeth, and nonestablishmentarian outlaws
pistol whipped and hashed
tagged traitors who roared America
went bankrupt at sold at fire sale price slashed

when Donald Trump ran the country
into the ground evidenced by Molotov Cocktails residue
in concert with the sulfuric odor of hand grenades trashed
like some sorority or fraternity house
left the sanctified righteous West Wing

with powder puffs sans canisters
of pepper spray, whereby
most docile, humble, and liberal took a page
from playbook of Pandora, and took an aimless swing
at the root cause of melee by hurling objet’s d’art

at the pompous trump ping
Septuagenarian, whose platoons of goons
rent asunder peoples against their king
the donnybrook heathen, whose remarks
against libertarian rubric that made America great

wantonly soup peer egg go whist tickly
reviving prejudices declared dead
from yesteryear and his attempt to bring
back the glory days, when Whistler Blowers
getting water boarded and aching

deigning to implement dictatorship
of the Proletariat as a capital idée fix
weaving together, the salient strengths
viz founding fathers credo gave licks
to King George, and now in an ironic

twist and shout of fate through eclectic mix
basket of deplorables further shamed
by being routed by the New York Nicks
sewed jaws, heads of state, and dignitaries

with limping bodies spent like derricks
Oil used up and no place to go except
to keep Alice in Chains and
Alice Cooper Company with toys in the attics.
M Harris Feb 2017
Newfangled Biosphere Pyramid Scheme In Dwelling To Sidetrack,
Sanities Seduced So You Never Will Retort.
Threaten the sanctity of the delusion,
Unlearn. Start altering the definitions.

Force fed more dread so you relinquish control,
Cravings we must return.
Unfetter the soul,
In a system where acceptances esteemed more than the veracity,
Flawed perception of tour progression through that which we consume.
Exposed through The Earliest Of Eons.

Resistance-Resistance is Demarcated
Subversion-Subvert the Paradigm
Stirring Within A Ecosphere
Numb And Incarcerated

Stirred On My Own
In Prehistoric Of Existences

Slumbering. Visualizing. Bleeding. Conscious.

Appreciations bolted in a collective delusion
Lulled by ease and consumption
An entire realm of souls visualizing their existences.
Mankind is not superior, we’re just folklore's in our own consciences.
M Harris Feb 2017
Raging tides, Silent waters,  
Squalling back to reminiscent eons
Ethereal beauty to a much grander design
Under a radiant sun an azure skies
She died under my ***** blue eyes

An ocean within me pulsating
Through my veins
From the cradle to the grave
A mesmerizing force
A fragile balance,
Her silent breath
Fuels this vivid ever shining red….
SassyJ Jan 2016
Verse 1
You are the wind that blows
I am a book that you read
Condensing chapters told
My feeble mind relearns
To search the eons of bliss

Verse 2
You are the scent I breathe
I am a nomad that strolls
Guarding blooming depths
Your inner eye is my sight
To trigger seasons afar

Verse 3
Your skin is my shiny glow
I am a mass that revolves
Reflecting the mirrored view
You review within my insight
To align the guarded tusks

I will never punch you
Neither munch you
A sway in desire
I will never judge you
Neither nudge you
A swing to inspire
To an essence ever present felt but not seen!
Kurt Schneider May 2015
We are all made of stars,
And some are yet to be seen,
although they may shine the brightest in the sky.
Will they find me amidst the glow of Ursa Major?
Or will my light be seen by no one,
except the soft solemn universe,
in a quiet appreciation of every atom,
as they orbit each other through the eons,
with this, my heart is content.
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