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Bhill 1d
man, without wisdom, is uncivilized
understanding how to decide and teach
are we headed backward or forwards
the future, currently exists, only in our minds
do, or will we, have the vision to move
to move past the present, into the future?
((ouch)), (my brain exploded)....))

Brian Hill - 2020 # 295
Khoi Oct 13
Ink spilt on a page
gut feelings love and doubt
butterfly effect
Nova Oct 6
You twisted my words into something they’re not.
It’s not hard too see it, you do that a lot.
You make me the villain in all of their minds
Then you play the hero and feed them your lies.
In earth - budding days of childhood, with dreams of dreams we envisioned moonflowers, tuberoses and evening primroses to comb our worlds and garland our minds with boughs of wild bloom, as we sank from hardness into soft - leaved petals.
We had a burning want, never realized.
To want, want, want, want - not to have - but it came to me, at last as I ran through ginko alley - it came to me, wrung me and lost me - I was so foolish, I grew old. Dark passed and light came. Summer lights hurt me, and autumn's rain set me free.
Recklessness for them is an enterprise
They lack discrimination
It's no surprise
Money weighs heavily on their minds
Hypocrite as they are
Billionaire self styled
Their wisdom is a parody
They are critical of   everybody
Recklessness for them is an enterprise
A secret placing.
Finding, seeking, an ending.
Pathways in our minds.
Unknown souls reside
in the most deserted places—
such as the minds of the Parallel;
the hearts that bear the rebellion
and the agonizing shadows that stalk
behind the familiar faces.

Where the souls whom we do not know—
finds places in the garden-like of Arcady
its rustic magnificence and endless streams.

The whitest marbles that mirror the true form
of one's self—
the sculptures of liberty and honor
enchanted voices of wood nymphs
that serenades every heart's frightened—
and harmonious hands clasping together—
souls traded their bodies for a one-way ticket;
this is where the last train stops.

The mind seeks for the Parallel—
when a desire craves,
it reaches down to the deepest pit—
from where the tree reaches down to the lowest ground,
should its own branches reach the tallest clouds?

Behind the rushing blood
of spirits being awakened—
should the deserted soul
stride its feet in the garden of Arcady?
“In each of us, there is another whom we do not know.” Carl Jung
When I speak
You hear my mind's voice
When I write
You see my mind's voice
Both reflect what's in my mind
No diverse in and out !!..
Knut Kalmund Jul 20
you are what others think and thought.
They could be lavished with the freshest water
and still dislike the abundant taste,
make you do the same.

and if they lived in a
never ending snowing biom,
freezing their atrophying minds into the
cryoconserved likeness of eternity,
declaring this fool's action
a foolproof veritable gulp
of their besotted wisdom.
Would you do the same?

Even if you disdained the snow?
Who made you disdain the snow?
Would you have been on a fool's errand,
if you finally arrived there
or would you have been
on a palmy journey of a righteous congruence?

Who are you, the one of the others?
Are you one, or the others?

So many are
lynched on a warp
weaved by anyone except themselves
sinking into oblivion
might as well die up to it.
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