Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
GaryFairy Apr 2022
I get so high
I look up past the sky
I look back down
and I wonder why
I'm somewhere in between
I'm almost in a dream
monsters make me laugh
angels make me scream
I get so low
nowhere down to go
I look back up
and I just don't know
whether I will defy
what is right before my eyes
devils wear a path
angels wear a disguise
GaryFairy Oct 2021
in the eyes of a reflection
shattered by things that are unseen
eyes aren't polarized to see beyond other eyes

shining water looks up at me
I see myself and beyond the surface
aquatic life isn't hiding behind other guise?

in the glass of the shattering
I see myself as that broken image
a war was fought. but no war was won

shining sky looks down on me
you handed me a broken mirror
then you said "look what he has done"
Based on new biology, and the fact that environment causes sickness. The things we say and do were downloaded by us from our environment and what we saw and heard in the first 7 years or so...some good proof is language...a child can learn three languages at once, at the age of three, and an adult has trouble learning one new language...meditation can escape the bad stuff by bringing true consciousness...10,000 signals a second, the brain can send, but some of us have some bad ideas(signals) interfering...i am willing to help anyone i can, but you must be willing to admit that you know nothing, as i did...once you realize that you know nothing, it opens up a beautiful world, as seen through a child's eyes, and makes learning easy again
The uniVerse Sep 2020
Listen if you please
to my twisted soliloquy
I’m not from around here
I’m just rumors on a breeze
I come from afar
some say the mountains
others the stars
like an absent friend
you will remember me I promise
or else your names Thomas
mine is Adam the first
I am the atoms that burst
the very fabric of being
the fabric of genes
denim, denial, destiny, defile
I've been here a while
and I will be here a while longer
even though I don't belong here
the oceans don't know my depths
the mountains have not reached my peaks
all these beliefs I have not kept
for there is something greater that I seek
but I cannot utter its name
some may call it love
but that has garnered too much fame
for you've mistook love for what is fake
because it's not something you can take
it's as simple as a breeze
the same that carried me
yet unlike I it has no needs
it's as full as the oceans
and tall as the mountains
I had the notion
that I could just pen
write my own legend
but that too must END
Michael R Burch Feb 2020
for Thomas Raine Crowe

...These nights bring dreams of Cherokee shamans
whose names are bright verbs and impacted dark nouns,
whose memories are indictments of my pallid flesh...
and I hear, as from a great distance,
the cries tortured from their guileless lips, proclaiming
the nature of my mutation.

NOTE: My “mutation” is that my family appears to contain English, Scottish, German and Cherokee blood, meaning that my ancestors were probably at war with each other. Did my English ancestors force my Cherokee ancestors to walk the Trail of Tears?

I have recently created these new translations of Native American poems, proverbs and sayings ...

What is life?
The flash of a firefly.
The breath of a winter buffalo.
The shadow scooting across the grass that vanishes with sunset.
—Blackfoot saying, translation by Michael R. Burch

Speak less thunder, wield more lightning. — Apache proverb, translation by Michael R. Burch

The more we wonder, the more we understand. — Arapaho proverb, translation by Michael R. Burch

Adults talk, children whine. — Blackfoot proverb, translation by Michael R. Burch

Don’t be afraid to cry: it will lessen your sorrow. — Hopi proverb

One foot in the boat, one foot in the canoe, and you end up in the river. — Tuscarora proverb, translation by Michael R. Burch

Our enemy's weakness increases our strength. — Cherokee proverb, translation by Michael R. Burch

We will be remembered tomorrow by the tracks we leave today. — Dakota proverb, translation by Michael R. Burch

No sound's as eloquent as a rattlesnake's tail. — Navajo saying, translation by Michael R. Burch

The heart is our first teacher. — Cheyenne proverb, translation by Michael R. Burch

Dreams beget success. — Maricopa proverb, translation by Michael R. Burch

Knowledge interprets the past, wisdom foresees the future. — Lumbee proverb, translation by Michael R. Burch

The troublemaker's way is thorny. — Umpqua proverb, translation by Michael R. Burch
M R White Dec 2019
How many burdens do you carry? How many have you passed through your kin? How much of your burden is not yours to carry?
I have struggled with these questions.
What burdens are mine? My shoulders are weakened by these unanswered questions.
I know that maybe this is just family tradition, I was given them at birth. Yet, I did not pick them. I would like to know why I have inherited them. Have my brother have them? Does my sister struggle with similar questions?
What if I did not care to nurture them anymore?
Would they die with me?
Or still be gifted to my kin?
And if they were given to my kin, how would my kin feel?
Would they bare it like Atlas, strap it to their backs and lift with their knees?
Or never speak of it. Hide it in a locket around their neck, neatly tucked under their shirts.
Would they take time to calculate their percentage of the age old burden? Or bury it somewhere in the country, deep into the side of a mountain, with the rest of the ancestors.
I’d hope they would give the burden back to the rightful owners.
I hope with all my being left, they are mighty enough to confront the age old tradition. I hope they give each burden back, to each dead being in the grave.
I am weary of carrying the ancient decisions of my elders.
I wish you luck, my child.
The size of the burden does not determine its weight.
It is heavy.
It has nearly buried me with its ominous weight.
I now understand why the burden is so easily passed without a second thought.
I just hope my guilt does not add to its weight.
Shlomo Jan 2019's here. A future. Agile? I was not enough to be.

Black in it's entirety. A new beginning and a new me.

Clockwork. As though a plan hatched by some supreme being.

Dear dog, which came first? Was it the white or the black?

Either way, it effortlessly taints your profoundly glorious genes.

**** this! Atrocious. Drugs?!

Goodness me. How did we get to this?

Horrible, dehumanising, and it's here to stay.

"It suppresses". But really only in the mildest of ways.

Just to remind you of the control you once had.

Killed! And now ceded in it's entirety to a tad bit of a fad.

Let me just turn back the hands of time! 

My fate I leave with you alone. 

Nothing seems to relieve this pressure and irreparable pain. 

Oh God! Could I be spared such a destiny?


Queuing from my heart to yours. 

Respectfully admonishing your power and grace. 

Simply, do I ask for that childlike sense of serenity.

To take me to a place of restoration and hope. 

Unlock my mind. Repair my soul. For vaults of this kind are too strong.
Audio Narration @
Paul Butters Nov 2018
Armies of words gather in my head
To march so boldly onto the page.
They work their wonders
Who knows how?
Why they pick me as their channel
For their landing craft
I’ll never know.

Some accident of birth:
Genetic fluke –
For which I take no credit –
Makes me nectar to these ants
That line themselves into verse.

Compulsion drives me to write
As salmon must jump those water falls
To return to their spawning grounds.

I have to speak, or rather type:
Express myself
No matter what,
Whether good or bad.

Is there a cure for this affliction of mine?
Can I ever stop myself from writing?
I very much doubt it.

Paul Butters

© PB 16\11\2018.
A congenital affliction.
Next page