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my eyes are drawn
to two seagulls
perched contentedly on
a ****-caked lamp post
nothing decorative
lacking flourish or accent
a simple narrowing pole
coloured inexplicably green
with gently domed cowls
that gulls and pigeons
seemingly frequent
marred by a combination
of cream brown white
for all i know
it could be
their own faeces
in which they stand
or it could be
weathered and aged
built up and dried in place
for days
for months
for years
perhaps even decades
never to return
to untarnished days
perhaps if the bulb blew
or the lamp failed completely
it might be restored
while it is repaired
but there is no
guarantee of that
and yet the birds
could not care less
they'll pay no heed
to that which is less
than perfection
treating this evidently
well-favoured resting place
the same as they would
an unmarred branch
protected amongst tree tops
or a dainty bird-bath
amidst the flowers
of someone's quaint garden
Robin Carretti Jun 2023
Being optimistic words
hitting chords drowning
  Overboard smooth sailing
     Poetic-  words
    Reassuring
                        believing

  Time moves on being

             Hopeful*
   Fresh start  makeup
             Achieving
   Tea-  Rose colored
     Big city- crowded
   Scattered-love tainted
But he has you in his arms
  Before you fainted

      Animation  
Love 3D promising
Relationships
Can be poisoning
  Missing family
    Divineness
    Ma- Ma Da Da
Smile when your heart is aching

I Gotcha  mind and body
    
What's inside two
hearts beat or breaking

      I  Gotcha!
Love in the making
 
    Oh! Susanna
Won't you play a beat
Banjo on his knee

Politician I -Gotcha
Ha -ha
Crimes and leaks
New technology
Longevity - Global
Mentality Longevity

A fake world or true- reality
*       *       *    
I- Gotcha

Now! give me Starbucks Matcha- Latte
Do we get it or it creeps up on us like a fun gadget or lets do the math in digits
Its hits you by surprise I -Gotcha
Lexi Mar 2023
Idk
My brain feels like a scraped knee that’s slowly being sewn back together day by day with new flesh. Relived and in awe at the way the body knows how to heal itself when I didn’t think it possible; itll probably leave behind a  scar because a wound like this must leave something behind, right? A reminder of once was, not letting you escape and forget; following you wherever you go. But maybe, eventually there will be no trace after all for I’ve yet to know as I’m
still
healing
from a knee wound deep within my brain.
Mentally I’ve been through more than one should and I’ve come to terms with things over the past two years that I never thought I could and my brain is healing when I didn’t think it was possible.. when someone has gone through trauma you never think you’ll get better.. but slowly so slowly bits and pieces start to heal..
If one considers the tesseract  as a worm hole that gets stronger as it traverses the distance traveled time spent to become the clairaudience clairvoyance of astral projection’s existential extremity……..I mean like what is the nature of  exigence exodus’s exponentially extemporaneous.  I mean given that  infinite possibility is the nature of omnipresence’s omniscience and we are but a refractively reflective embodiment  of its integrable form’s extant:   the residual harmonic vibrations of kinetic supremacy’s trajectory.  
        
So I ask again “Is intellectual sentience the catalyst for the evolution of God?”  Perhaps if we all practice zoomorphic zoolatry on the social contiguities of demagoguery the vicarious recalcitrance of its objectified manifest's dimensional delineations will raise us all to new heights of enigmatism.  
       
 But no, we are but relatively extraneous interpolations of adhesively practical extremity.  We’re not capable of transmuting  our environment with the imbue in the exude of our emote, despite the concoctions we xenobiotic prosthesis.  We are incapable of interceding en masse on our own behalf as an integrated unit.  We don’t amount to the seven five six-y on it to eight.  We are more the four-ness of three given the two-y-ness of one.  The 3D macro of the fecundity of micro’s induction's fertility.  

I submit:  
  
“Before there was anything that mattered everything that would ever be existed , it was the essence of totality , it was without dimensional constriction or necessitated form .  Optimistically speaking time had no relative realism to its progression because realistically nothing had happened yet .  As it continued it became according to its innate inflections as a functionally integrable form .  The questionably understandable nature of its conjunction was an omnipotent directive beyond necessitated action or morphological construction .  The enigmatic consciousness of its relatively interrelated conception was spontaneous and yet it continued without elemental omniscience.”  

And

“As the relative complexity of its interrelations evolved dimensional consistence was born.  Humanly understandable laws of physical integration governed many facets of its conjunction yet the totality of its ramification was beyond humanly realistic conjecture .”

And

Given the theory of ultimate entropy and the probable cyclic nature of existence……and given that there probably was no beginning so therefore an eternity has already passed, ”I have a theory: This spatiotemporal fecundity, this creationism occurs at such an imperceptible rate that positive eons of quadrillions of ages must pass in order for the cosmos to replenish its stockpile of physical matter (possibly matter without atomic structure as we know it) so that a new cycle of infinite big bangs in infinite space can occur.”

       Yes, it seems that basic gravity has extent on the extremity.  Huge sections of it slowly implode until the compression causes a singularity, or so it would seem.  Who knows, perhaps some of these big bangs have different periodic tables than ours.  I mean why would they all be the same, given that infinite possibility is the nature of omnipresence’s ubiquity.  
      
I like to think I cerebral cortex ****** matrix resemble but there’s a vast difference between relative rationality and rational relativity.  Noumenal sentience’s semantic regalia is incorporeity ideology’s platonic proxy incarnate for after all what is the nature of problematic prosthesis to mystic symbiotics?  
      
Protractive analyses of dimensional delineation are in order.  The basic fecundity of spatiotemporal telemetry’s virility had an exogamy with the infinite vastness and the inky blackness.  It’s some pretty inimitable stuff, trajectory extant and all.  
      
So, back to the tesseract perhaps the creativities of imagination’s immaturities are teleportational  translucence to transcendency  verve.  Then again perhaps we are corporeally preternatural finites and adjunctly  juxtapositional is beyond our metaphysical mystique………I like to think not!!!  Tesseract.
Orthogenesis overtures to ornithology horse feathers! !  Retrospectively retroactive!  The ultimate universally inapplicable weather yankee tools to mule kit blue deally romp's resembla blur.  The Martian Warlord's universally acceptable id conclusion on the enigma's entity.
Rich Oct 2022
I need you in my life, baby

The only productive addiction in my future is to your proximity

A decade of scattered sorrows is but an aching blink when I’m with you

You manifest what I could never say or feel without the fear of exile

Rom-Coms hold no candle or wick to our story

Proposals would only seem like trivial when it comes to you and I

We’re closer than nostalgia and episodic memory
closer than gods and their devotees
closer than the dawn and dusk
when nine to fives carry you through a day

Yet despite our bond
only I can hear you, see you, feel you, think you

So with baited breath I speak your name, or at least what you are known as:

Imagination.
Shadow Dec 2021
Rivers surge throughout the valley
The grey of the clouds engulfs any light
But in a moment all is clear
And has calmed
Until again
The storm takes hold of the valley
An endless cycle of chaosity
stillhuman Sep 2021
I lay
dormient
as the colours of the world
spin around
me
This state of mind is poison that you ingest on your own
Kamila Aug 2021
Sometimes you change
And so does your mentality.
You ain't recognize your taste,
Unfollow pages, cause now they bring anxiety.

Sometimes you change
And not only location,
But also people that you place
Around yourself, it's called prioritization.

Sometimes you change
And ain't making same decision.
New choices you now make
Do set new course and clear your vision.
Pseudonymous S Jun 2021
Sometimes,
I forget to breathe.

At all times,
My mind is a cesspool of
Whirling thoughts
Intrusive desires
Violent emotions

When it all becomes
Too much
Or
Too little

I stop.

Breathing,
That is.

If I’m suffocating
Dying of oxygen depletion
Writhing in decaying misery
As my brain shuts down,

I find silence.

Solace.

But then,
Comes the time when I must
breathe again.

Refocus my eyes,
Halt my blind stare into the void.

Resume my breath.

And smile.

For I know,
That if I’m gone too long
If I fall into the nothing

Then I might dissociate forever.

And there are far
Far
Too many beautiful things
To sacrifice
For peace of mind
And an
Empty head.
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