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George Krokos Apr 12
It’s liquid or water that always flows
and so in a downward direction goes.
Though never upward is also well known
unless by evaporation or force it’s thrown.
This may not be entirely true as water can also stay in one place and become stagnant but initially it would've had to flow or fall into that place and then begins the slow process of evaporation.
From 'The Quatrains' ongoing writings since the early 90's
Monica Mourad Feb 20
Eyes open eyes shut

Light flutters in like mist then fades like a silent wind.

Sunlight moonlight sunrise sunsets

Shades of light and darkness that emanate life.

Chaos and peace coexist within each transition.

Such is life and such is happiness…
shades of life and light
David Cunha Feb 10
Vibrant despair blowing out like sand paper from the soul
Dreams of colour
Fearless hallucination of love
for the World

A stream of consciousness so pure and thick
like a raw gem
like a river
like a marching bull
Painfully fulfilling me full

I could run for miles if I had the Sea to sightsee
if I had the Sun gleaming on me
if I had your figure in memory
even if I had nothing and wasn't meant to be

A fuel that bursts my pupils into a huge void
and so
a rocket to the Moon and my hands on this keyboard
setting the stage for another round

I cannot be stopped, I can only be blunt
I can only do it
I can only run
Veins bulk in a steaming rush
and thus time disappears like a fog

I am lucky I am here
- David Cunha
february 10, 2024
5:16 a.m.
Man Nov 2023
Don't stop walking, the path will appear before you;
Love will remedy all your pain if you keep your heart open.
It's not about what we think or feel, it's what we know.
So, surround yourself with good folks
Surrender, and just go with the flow
Ken Pepiton Dec 2023
Knowledge friction, war stories
told five generations deep,
to the future where Ursala made you
curious enough to swallow a thought.

Meta, after all ready, phor filling,
as with allegory and parables, bits
of wish and wonder ifery…
inner world building time to think.

Here to there is very far, by virtue
of our common measure, from…

seafoam unnoticed, save in stone…
quantum foam in all at once done, set

Sit with me,
tell me if you know
why some folks are free as me,
and others are bound in reasons
old as opposing force used for bubbling.

See us thinking, unspoken words, but
words, still, continuous thought held
as tiny bubbles
along swirlumphants hardwired
with science of the certain inner sort,
the ways of wise ones, learned thinkers
who recollect the processed thoughts, say

listen, if there were a way peace was made
once, were there these thoughts we think now?
Bubbling in my soul, they said, back when?
How is peace released inside the storm?
Chaos 70 facets deep, same idea, resist order.

The experience acknowledged, chaos of cream
in caffeine , f'eine, eh, so we'd've known, by now.
First peaceable thought spared ignorance today.

We be in our own bubbles of being, foaming now.

If we were once thought God's big joke.

Melvin Redsocks, the fat, queer kid.
Boy Scout, Union 76 pump jockey suicide.
Trauma drama life experience, done.
Let me imagine being you, no,
you know, dead men don't reman the same,
reimagining a child's mind, remains
something, an art, a formula, per
co instants re co noticed, yes, that person,
that mind thought this were we in tune to time.

Bubble bound, poli-mere, essence-initial wall,
signal zero beat
line to cross, twister to pass through, on this level.
Timing tuning through the noise, seeing all things flow.
Mental muscle, musty mold, crusty granite green
wet November fungal bloom, foaming coincidents
electrical analysis laxloossschu iiclysis o'uses we's
discerning freedom's bubble form, cosmic wind
spinning…past the past poor Melvin was in,
we realize
hormonal braking idea, a geared pineal whisper,
thinking things think thoughts are listening prayer.
Cause cream is lipid, resistance is related to hot and cold.
What you comprehend, bubble-wise, you hold true.
Grease slick on the puddles in the drive way salt.
-colors I knew a painter who painted miniatures of
Some old ideas, self evident to landed men, in consort
at the inspirited metatask-tization nationalized as this
version of the grand aspiration to be of one mind,
republican rectitude balanced on gravities ego.

What you learn you know, that's life, now…
in matters of value.
Love me some o'dem balyous. Bacavaca'saltmeat now.
More all you knows, to go on, win. Shibboletm'***

What's a thought worth. Unthought.
Clear con
science confidence, psy why come, go gnosis see\
life's tricks, time and chance,
there you are,
here I was, thinking we can make up minds.

Bubbles in seafoam. Seen from the basin
at the edge of the salt.
Sold we loose the salt sown on our soil.
Seeming we become the testing grounds, run on.
Salt was said to ionize any quest. As my sacrifice
I lost my salt, and left it to mark the way I went.

I put the photo
on Meta somewhenanowagonon 'won run on will to

Keep on, holding
a certainty too far to fathom from the top.

Fo' a long time, emnity and me, we run on,

way back long now, 200 jahreback'ld be 1723,
tough winter in this same world, then lit by fire.

No matches low men could be allowed to use, yet.
This long before then, in the east…
Fire works brought laughing dragons daun wu wei, then
in the land that tamed the Khan, in those days,
simultaneous cultural bubble, gurgle
gut level, listen, all neurons on, skin, prickle, **** clench
ankle to toes, tighten, listen, mirror then…
Cold. Peace is easyier, if you are sure of winter warmth.
And basics.
Fundamental satisfaction, wait, winter out state, inside.

Exhale, stretch and wiggle and half hiccup… and breathe
release, loose, let it go.
We have smelled musty ourselves, we know errors
as well as any messaging mind devised
in everwasery times.
- the heat depends
- on reality, we need friction, fitslips
Knots in sense since whenning was a way we do
grindwhinesohighwe all never listen any more, it is all noise.
Listen to the ten thousands whistling ever changing times.
If you resist the wind,
you lift off, as dust thou art, and so on…

We fly in a single reader's mind loosed to feel free as a word.
This is publishing, posting in a public place, to be thought thinkable once...
Pogues on low in the background... in this ever after,
Graff1980 Nov 2023
Everything is pure imagination,
colors pulled from the mind’s
massive palette,
as new dimensions reveal themselves
in swirling abstractions
of curling rainbow action.

The colors she sees internally
are multi layered and 3d,
rapidly releasing childlike energy
and remaking her inner existence
into a safe fantasy,
as she takes that imagery
and makes it her waking reality.

She takes the power to paint and reshape
a poorly formed life of pain
into a playground of
crimson, purple, yellow,
pink, and blue
for everyone to view.

Everything fades to background noise,
and there is only art unfurling,
as the unconscious writes its own story,
as time moves at its own pace,
letting awe and intense focus
color her sweet cherubic face.
George Krokos Oct 2023
There are certain feelings in my heart that I won’t try to explain
which if I were to tell you about them you’d probably complain.
The well-springs of our heart run deep and determine how we live
meaning: if we don’t allow them to flow naturally hold us captive.
From 'The Quatrains' ongoing writings since the early 90's.
Kris Fireheart Aug 2023
There was a guy
Who always felt like
He could just slide through
All of the days,

Riding a high, feeling
Like he could just
Shuffle the haze,
They thought him crazed;

They called him Teddy,
And this guy was ready
To help you let everything out!

A piece and a quarter,
It's all you let over,
And he would just rise up
And shout!

Said "I'm Teddy xans, so
Give me your hands,
And let me show you
What it's 'bout!"

I told him, pass me
A couple of bars,
Let me raise up
To the level you're on,

Pass me the liquor,
Let's crash us some cars,
End up with flex,
So what's coming next?

He was perplexed,
Said 'what does that
Make us?'

I said "relax, dude
We're just from Texas;"

He said "go on,  we've got
Time to spend,",  I said
"I'm halfway dead,
Old friend,"

He said "no worries,
We're not in a hurry,
Just rack em' and
Stack em' , and let em'
Be buried,

Your wants,  your needs,
Your life in the streets."

I asked him,  

"So what does that
Make me?"
No notes, this is a requiem for my friend Teddy Xans. Wanna guess who he is? Yeah this is my own funeral rite. This one's for me. My game hasn't ended yet. But may I respawn and play again... without this crutch.
irinia Aug 2023
time has a savage chemistry
it flows in silence in the depth of life
stolen or borrowed, hidden & fluent
and I am this space for time
to learn how to love itself &
the transparency of mystery
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