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Ivana Rodriguez Jun 2019
Who lives in this kingdom on the cloud?
Come down; come here; show your form!
If you're all that mighty-proud...

Why whisper when you say that you are loud?
You claim, "If tempted, I'll bring down a storm."
Who lives in this kingdom on the cloud?

Are you alone, or centred by a crowd?
Do your trick; go awe me and perform!
If you're all that mighty-proud...

In your kingdom, is thought allowed,
Or will your voodoo help the world transform?
Who lives in this kingdom on the cloud?

You are proving that you have not wowed;
Your heart is weak and isn't warm.
Who lives on this kingdom on the cloud––
If you're all that "mighty-proud"?
Hehehe, just a villanelle from when I was bored in biology.
Sean Achilleos Apr 2018
NO QUESTIONS ASKED
And so it came to pass that you were born
Your name chosen for you
It's not to say that you necessarily like your own name
But no say did you have in the matter
You were told what is right and wrong
Not that you agree with everything that you were taught
Because the people who taught you, were also taught by others at some point in time
How do you know that they were taught the right conduct in order to teach you?
How do you not know that you're just another victim of tradition?
Passed down from generation to generation
It doesn't make it right!
But once again ... No questions asked
Then you were introduced to a religion ... A belief system
And even though there are millions of beliefs in existence
You were told that yours is the only one which is right, and that all the others are wrong
Each man feels as passionate about their own belief as you do ... then why cast a stone?
Except that there is a major problem with this situation
Now we have a war between who's right and who's wrong
Even though your knowledge of other beliefs is based on how much you've heard ... which in essence becomes hearsay
Where is the Love in this, you ask? This is nothing but division and war!
Keep your mouth shut ... Shhh, no questions asked, remember ... You're not allowed to think for yourself
If you dare to do so
You are branded as an outcast ... non-conformist ... free thinker ... weird ... in rebellion and even anti-Christ
You've also come to understand that there are many different shades to life
Everything is not black and white
There are many shades of different colours
When adjusting the volume to your television
You adjust it according to your need
You don't put it on complete silence or full blast
But at a level which is comfortable for you ... this is the way it was designed ... Balance
Now you've come to know how people think
"Does he believe in God, they ask?"
The answer is "yes" ... But in a different way
To you God is the act of Love ... Be it anywhere ... Spirit is omnipresent
To you God does not live in a building somewhere made of bricks and cement
That building people like to call a church
Where does this so called Love come from and where can it be found, you ask?
Look no further than your heart and judge not a book by its cover
A man might seem squeaky clean on the outside, while in his heart darkness lurks
While another man might be having a drink at his local pub ... But his heart might be pure
Quote me not a verse from a book you did not write ... but rather ask ... "Hello, how are you?"
Brick and mortar shall crumble in time ... These so called "houses of God"
Likewise the body shall pass on ... Dust to dust ... Ashes to ashes
While only one thing remains certain ... The Spirit of Love is eternal
No questions asked
Written by Sean Achilleos
09 April 2018©
www.facebook.com/SeanAchilleosOfficial/
Amazon: Sean Achilleos 'An Affair with Life' The Philosophical Poems of Sean Achilleos
YouTube: Sean Achilleos
Sean Achilleos Apr 2018
Once there was a blue light
It shone bright over us in the night
Quiet in the midnight sky
When mankind was still kind
We looked not to religion
We looked not at tradition
We looked not at culture
We placed our hopes, dreams and aspirations not in a politician
When everyone was a person
No-one was a colour and titles did not exist
Simplicity was the name of the game
But then mankind ... the one who was suppose to be kind
Gave a name to everything
The division had begun
Was man-kind really kind?
What once was one had been splintered into pieces
Now we stand divided
Where have all the pieces blown, you ask?
Where are they hiding?
An incomplete puzzle we have become
However the answer has been revealed to few
But for now their tongues are on mute
Written by Sean Achilleos
03 April 2018©
www.facebook.com/SeanAchilleosOfficial/
Amazon: Sean Achilleos 'An Affair with Life' The Philosophical Poems of Sean Achilleos
YouTube: Sean Achilleos
Mark Lecuona Jun 2017
ake the time if you can
Pretend that you are wrong
Release it inside yourself
But first, choose a flower
The bees will come later

Don’t abandon your morals
You’re here to rearrange them
It’s not an astrological profile
Or even coloring your hair
It always grows back anyway

Think of impermanence
How little actually ever is
Only love is untainted
By politics or who you are
It is perception that corrupts

There are only a few
Our parents and children
Everyone else is conditional
Too vulnerable for more
Still we believe in forever

The mind is loaded first
The will becomes the decision
It is you pain that must die
Fed by the anger of  others
Free speech lights the match

But that is not intellectual
It is the instinct of a follower
And when he finally says yes
The rhapsody of religious revival
Becomes the darkness in his heart

You must stop studying the map
There is a form to life from birth
Whether culture or a weak father
You cling to it indiscriminately
Until you discard the point of being

Think about your enemy
It may be you’ve never met them
You only know what someone said
Was it really what they have chosen
Or the context of their turmoil?

There is always a consequence
You have to decide how to live
Is it better to have nightmares
Or sleep soundly with ignorance
The songs chorus can’t help you

To live without classification
Is to think without influence
But the desire to cling tightly
To your past and your mistakes
Is to trade salvation for mortality
My mind is going weird again and hurting my head
I don't know what to make of it

I think
I want a male me
Or just me. I want another me. Doesn't necessarily have to be male. Can be female. Why not both. But I want another physical and spiritual embodiment of who I am as a person

A part of me just wants to hug and hold someone. And my head is automatically choosing said person, but the feeling of the mere hug and contact is overshadowing the identity of the person by a few degrees

I miss calloused hands roaming my body. And I miss body heat. I miss legs I can entangle mine with. I miss the crooks of necks. I miss snores emanating from a chest and hearing the rumble in the air from it. I miss tired faces resting and appearing destressed. I miss light groans as a body shifts positions in their sleep.

I think I can pinpoint what it is that I miss. Because although all sound like physical and verbal responses, it is not the actions, although they always go hand in hand.

I think I miss intimacy. But what is necessarily intimacy?
There's a few definitions as soon as one googles it
A close familiarity or closeness. A private, cozy atmosphere. A closeness of observation or knowledge of a subject.

My chest aches and pounds as I try to put my finger on what it is I'm searching for. The more it aches, the closer I am to finding my answer

Intimacy.
In-tih-mah-see.
In-to-me-see.
See-in-to-me.
Intimacy is to see in to me.
It is to let and allow someone to see you for who you are, to know what makes you a being.
But not necessarily in your head.

Intimacy is the knowledge of how another person's mind control's their body. How the body reacts to acts that can cause the mind to blank or move forward just off-beat of the body.

It's dragging your fingertips over their body and feeling the goosebumps rise as a laugh comes from the mouth over the words "popcorn butter is actually coconut oil with artificial flavoring" and feeling your eyes connect the dots between those goosebumps to their face and your brain noticing the connection between noises and nerve endings.

Intimacy is a weird state to be in. Because too much can cause the mind to blank and overload itself with serotonin and dopamine. All the while there is never enough time in the world to drag on that forever feeling
It's the act of getting lost in a person and discovering bits and pieces of how you affect said person.
In body, in mind, in response

I think I'm done because I don't know how else to frame my words. My head hurts and my chest pounds with equal force. I believe it's time for me to bid adieu and deal with this in the dreamscape
A collection of texts I sent to my friend while my thoughts ran rampant
I am not Christian but I have deep reverence for the teachings of Christ and his love of humanity.

I am not Roman Catholic but I recognize the life-affirming power of community, communion, and ritual.

I am not a Moslem but I find beauty and usefulness in the teachings of Mohammed.

I am not Buddhist but I have seen the results of meditation, daily spiritual practice, and putting aside my own ego.

I am not Taoist but I have felt the peace of the way of simplicity and harmony with the Tao.

I am not ancient Egyptian but I know the power of the Sun in the heavens, and I honor the Holy Mother Isis whose name has been hijacked by terrorists and propaganda machines.

I am not Wiccan but I have danced with the natural cycles of the year and the moon; I have known the power of the Earth and my place within it.

I am not Jewish but I will not forget the lessons of suffering, wandering, Silence, and discipline they have taught the world.

Heathen. Pagan. Atheist. Heretic. Believer. Trickster. Demon. Saint.

Paradoxically, I am none of these things and All of these things.

I believe in a humanity that can transcend the enslaving dogma and intolerance of patriarchy and religions used against us, to see ourselves, our god(esse)s, and our highest noble values in the faces of each other and all the natural wonders of this universal dream.

Original Sin = the Original Lie.

I believe in the goodness and greatness of us all.

Won’t you be my neighbor?  <3
All the best things I ever learned were from a certain neighborhood...
Graff1980 Nov 2016
Broad generalizations frequently decrease the fluidity of human understanding and growth.
Luisa C Jun 2016
i cannot do.
make do i cannot.
to understand what makes only my surroundings happy.
what wrong keeps returning inside of me to leave me out?
envy those lucky and careless, i do, for i cannot
do no more than merely wish for a smile to spread,
not the numbness weighing down my chest, flooding the gateways of my veins with its poison like wet black paint.
i do not want to make this all i know;
its familiarity scares me.
what am i missing out on?
when sad longing eyes scan from the corner
over the strangers i do irritate myself seeing,
the fault in isolating myself is clear.
finding too many flaws and reasons to
throw away the key of eternal joy.
why do i do this to myself, thinking about
how upsetting it is that i find it sad how
i am not alive only in dreams.
my mind begs me to stop all this from happening.
it needs a get out jail card, but unfortunately these types
do not come for free.
because i cannot always feel what others feel.
i am cast out from having too much fun,
and jealousy accomplishes so little.
but indulge in too much pity i refuse.
the universe doesn't care about anyone
it does not keep promises for anyone.
believing in its reliability to keep you feeling
wanted, and with purpose and worth
is not worth it.
it does not stop for anyone
especially not to make sure i am feeling okay
on this gloomy monday morning.
i would rather be anywhere else.
Life is a high that takes you on a trip more like a journey and as time goes by you look at things differently then you normally would. From happiness to depression life can be one hell of a drug but it can also make or be the start of something beautiful.
ConnectHook Sep 2015
Men of Reason: bold, progressive
hammer wielders, depth resounders –
shout from the helm your Godless missive
as our Bible-lifeboat flounders.

Send that Flying Spaghetti Monster,
our imaginary friend,
to the myth-conception dumpster:
let the Bronze Age folktales end.

Make the idols bow to Science.
Your progressive task: to mock –
seek that end in brave defiance.
Down with the shepherd’s useless flock !

Laser-focused human reason
serves to clarify the matter,
strips the symbols from the season,
superstitious tales to shatter.

We, mere rubes in need of crutches,
simple children, willing tools –
must be rescued from the clutches
of the fables preached to fools.

Seamless garments, bushes burning:
are but schemes for fleecing sheep…
We are plebes devoid of learning;
rouse our silly souls from sleep!

Flood us with your noontide wisdom
decimate the weaker link.
Blow away our card-house kingdom
show us Christards how to think.

Then, like you, we shall no longer
cling to ignorance and lies.
Missing links make chains yet stronger,
dragging fairies from the skies.

We shall join you in assurance
that there is no great beyond
thus no need for fire insurance
clergy, staff or magic wand.

We shall celebrate together
joyful, freed from superstition
endless, godless sunny weather:
non-existent non-perdition.

Having thus improved the light
and magnified Man’s modern day,
God’s angels will expire in fright;
the Lord shall meekly fade away.

— The End —