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maybe math is the foundation
maybe math is essence
maybe math tells us everything

or maybe not

maybe it's a trick
or a bad logical conclusion
based on faulty logic
or wrong assumptions
or poor observations
or just crappy minds
is math universal?

or universally wrong?
My vision was to create a new language for literature-
But now not only is every solution nonsense & every poem agonising,
I am a child reading too many of today’s poems realising I’ll also be writing long sentences with the purpose of deconstruction & decoration.

I rest in between my own letters of ‘a’ & ‘n’, where I can sit I peace.
Because when I’m doing that, even the spaces will become part of the essence of the work. Say, (if you calculate the movement of this earth on its axis you’ll see its beauty equates to something like the beauty in poems) It is in the essence, we have beauty in the first place.

You see: seeing patterns is the only way around this world. This idea is as flaky to me as a chocolate bar. I’m gonna write and drop my laptop two times before I get it right. I will fail but they take me as naive anyway so I'll laugh at myself because I want to be polite.

Take love, it takes many forms, but the essence remains the same.
Take books, it has variety of plots, but some meanings stay the same.
Take poetry, we can destroy form, rhyme, meter, but in its essence, the feeling remains the same.

We should write to construct a new language of unity, with a clearness to our imagination, and rely on the essence of the work to make its way to the heart.
Amit Pokhrel Sep 2
The ordinates concealed in your infinitesimal rationale
Insufficiencies portraying vestibules in your feverish attires
Every new soul you see makes you feel homeless
Dizzying altitudes you feel inside the depth of cavities
Indifference on pain and sufferings you crave for
And,
Hell; you feel inside grandeurs of perspectives
Hate; for the dearth of adulation on you
Liken Gaia could have never taught you of your frailty
Postulation of Karma and de-carnation of meanings made you converted
You were on the path of revolt
Against, say, cosmos!

Every symbolic gestures remind me of your meddlings
Penultimate; utter grievance of never ending poignancy
The night sky could have never baffled about your existence
Palpitation could have never made you shiver
But you have cried,
Of your loneliness!

Say,
A tiny fraction of clairvoyance I gave
Pulled you down into the puddle of wanderings
Instigation of a melody; created the symphony
A mere touch; drenched you into the silken lake
I spoke for your heart and you praised
Then, I gave you love but I got caged

How could I have done whatever you wished?

Since nobody knows,
The culminating dichotomy of your pantheistic ideas,
And of a maggot growing inside you
Breathless desires governing your feet,
And the time falsifying your plutonic ancestry
Mosaic glittering over your virtuous self,
And the tapestry of vanity covering your abysses
Depleting number of Hordes and Tartars fighting for your existence,
And devalued meaning of your modern-self

All those songs that never could soothe you
Teeny panting of your blasphemous heart
Multitude of distances you travelled
Series of condemnation bouncing between you and me
Your fleeting poverty
Your affections on materials
Like you die the death of pertinence
Love shall never please you

Nonchalant, over the,
Embargo you created on the faith
And the game you created on the bliss
But you shall never win
Since, you are a mere human soul
Bless you!!
Amit Pokhrel Sep 2
Oh! Wilderness!

My friend from the futile land

I, a devoid soul, of emancipation

Of the wilder lands—

Where covets and virtues of the past

Do not have their say.

The morbid authority of present

Does not have its reign.

And, you from the epitome of pulsating catharsis,

Where—

The falsifying dreams of redemption

Doesn’t bite with it’s jaws

And, doesn’t gnaw with it’s claws!



I seek you

Over and throughout

Where dark alleys do not contain

Souls weeping it’s heart out

Like never-ending rain shower.



I seek you

A longing for the warmth

Where the scorching desert suns

Do not burn the nativity down

Into human ashes!



I seek you

Like in a search for the continuum

Where meek hearts don’t dare to sedate themselves

In the near fear of the dragon inside—

Themselves!



Oh! Wilderness, my friend

I dream of you—

As a mother gazelle teaches its fawn to nibble grass leaves at dawn

As a clear stream runs south drenching the feeble land

As a man who forgives the crime of a mute with silence

And, as a smile that brightens up the face of a child

—herein, a meek human heart

Dreams of you!



Oh! Wilderness—

You shall be the rays of hope when I run dry,



Oh! Wilderness—

You shall be the joy when I wrench my heart out for a cry,



Oh! Wilderness—

You be the ivy wrath I shall put on when I’m to die!



Dear wilderness,

Let there be no servitude—

Only be there a desire—

To conquer the vacancy in the soul—

The eternal fear of eternity

And, the end of it!
floriculturist Dec 2017
the essence of susurrance –
how these autumn gales do moan;
steeped by riddles of winter solstice,
that rest in veils of evergreen gloam.

l.a.c
Spaces
Between the letters of a word
Between the words on a page
Between each breathless sound I heard
Between those moments as I age.

Spaces
Between my eyelids and my tears
Between the sniffles of my cries
Between the drums of my two ears
Between the whites of my two eyes.

Spaces
The nothingness of emptiness
A place no physical exists
The center of all loneliness
The comfort of the pessimist.

Spaces
They’re places asking to be filled
They have meaning in their presence
To those both soulful and strong-willed
Space is where they find their essence.
Instagram @insightshurt
Blogging at insightshurt.blogspot.com
Buy "Insights Hurt: Bringing Healing Thoughts To Life" at store.bookbaby.com/book/insights-hurt
Poetic T Aug 10
Beyond the throws of gravities
                     memories swinging.

Collecting  views of
                           sorrowful glances.

Swinging, a hangman
                          regretful essences.

But never once feeling the noose
                   tighten, tears hang here.
… our bodies in our clothes like holstered guns…
love is when you draw... and shed the holster
… that sweet crunchy click blowing your pupils
the arching trajectory of the safety-off smile
Mary Frances Aug 1
Sky
You are my sky,
my tranquil type of blue.
Whenever I gaze at your beauty
you put my heart into bliss.

You are my sky,
my unique and exquisite hue.
At times you may be dark and grey
still, your essence is true.
Nathalie Jul 18
Unveiling gaze
Flowering smile…
…Blossoming
With each heartening sigh

Intangible sparks of light
Lit…and oh so bright
Carried through time…

Our hearts know not yet
What our souls already comprehend
It is our souls that have echoed
Through eternity
Kindled from inside our many temples
…of flesh and bones

As we connect to the wisdom
Of centuries past
We peer through the hourglass
Staring through the windows
From which we see…

Stirred and drawing from this dancing flame
Our spirits bridged
By the hand of providence’s love

Guided and moved
By this feeling that rises
From the embers of lifetimes ago

The mind may forget
Spirit lives on to remember

Always and forever
Travelling together or apart…
The essence of our hearts
Are joined eternally.

~Nathalie
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