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Glass Jan 11
twenty three twenty three twenty three
sin the leaves spent the free when in tea
sent to seem bentley ream really keen
forty six forty six forty six
torture brick court see lick forced he rips
more the ships for lean mix bore me sticks

twenty and two twenty and six
forty and three, keep kept that this
poetry poetry poetry
nabs Jan 9
remedies is not only for something we can't pass
remedies is for everything that has broken
or just to re-new something
she learns something from her life, everyday
but she never had a chance to write those down

it's not a scam when she said her favorite things to do are reading & writing or writing & reading
reading a poem or her self-diary
writing a poem or a self-diary
she doesn't know if is a gifts
or just a hobby
because everytime she finished wrote all her poems, she re-read it, and she thought all eyes those read her words can write it too (with their own version(s))

in this, not-so, new day(s)
herself will embarks to write all the tales where she's involved in

as long as she living her life
this era is the lowest point in her life
she doesn't know if it actually is, or it's just she made it all low

she can't even say a word to herself
she can't even write what's in her head
she can't even tell anyone when she really needs a person to talk
all are just mixed up in her little head

she doesn't know if it is something like "manifesting" or what
all she knows that she can't figure it out yet
is it something related to science? like human mind?
is it something related to religions? like human relations with The Creator?
but one from many answers for the solutions (based on her own researches) is self-improvement
she is pretty sure that is something wrong inside herself
something to be fixed
something that needs remedy
but her body & mind are not so sure what is that (or what are those)
her body & mind are still figuring out

it's not finished yet
it is still figuring how it needs to be stopped
it is still progressing
'it' is this story, her story, my story
chapter 1
MetaVerse Aug 2022
H                         O
  H                                          H    
           O                                      O              
    2            H
                      H                        2                        
Deep Jul 2022
Just marking your absence
like a dog marks his path,
on wheels, and poles,
and sometimes on bed also...:)
Ave Maria Jun 2022
To speak scientific truth and the ways of nature is now to hate one another, so it seems
Why is this? How possibly could spreading the good seed of knowledge be the equivalent to inciting violence or a hate crime? Humans are far too fragile, as they have been since the beginning of time. All these unnecessary wars, and for what reason? They begin by spreading facts or opinions that evidently cannot be handled. There is nothing more self destructive than humanity. The censoring has begun, and I reckon much worse is to soon unfold. Why must they defend so dearly, what does not exist? We are asked not to label, yet these people label themselves and us within the span of a second for not believing in fantasies. We stand subject to ridiculous trends, power trips, and the dangerous fragility of the human mind. Will there ever be an end?
i can
conjurer up words
mix delicate
intricacies of verse
with poetic license
i might defecate
upon scripted genius
   of the past
a scourge
on the eloquence
   of perfected prose
a pariah
with semantics
that hang in the air
like a frequented noose
the rhetoric of
this rhetoric
both dumbfounds
   and delights
the agenda of the learned;
to supress
the syntax spat forth
the phlegm and catarrh
of a gut
of derivatives

i could compose
a verse
for young lovers
   to cherish
if i could
only stop
the rot;
      or ignorance
i couldn't
tell you
neth jones Apr 2022
life is vaporous
life is sleep and within life vapour I take a slumber
limbered keen and nimble I kip travels
unraveling lumber
  the annual rings a lolling carpet
   life is but a pencil sharpener
at my shoulder
                a nap sacked boulder
peppered quartz for schemes
  as an investor in dreams
                          i am larval

mumbling some verse nonsense
gavel for gorge
clouted by The Greats
the knowers who silk spin
     the freedom of sleep and the imagination
                                                            into­ rule and bard
the thirsty claws of the snared dream
the shared laws that barter with hurt
even as though we know ;
'ignorance is no excuse for the law'
         we ****** not forward with our 'self'
we have a trust of 'no confidence'
                      and an obedience to follow

i am some frown of traveller
        and a knowledge trawler
self-made unaware
an incomplete idiot with a knot of care
life is sleep and within that sleep i take my life
and with it
          any the fool that follows
neth jones Mar 2022
now ;                                                                                         
­                                   til the begging of our next death
bragging of our savage past chiming ovations
occupying the company of our hostages
when scavenge is all there truely is
'dealt with' seems a felony
shriney irredeemable
to some
quite fertile
and a breeding pulse
taking out our bludgeoning
womb of demoting anger and the elements
and blaze out your heart-pace                                        
in a most volcanic emission                                                         ­ 
                                                               ­              - the ignition
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