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I guess I’m okay… What more can I say?
Forget it—never mind,
You wouldn’t understand anyway,
Would you even know what it's like?
Inside a scattered disconnected mind,
Employed to go on strike?
Where indirect misdirect
The sincerity at play,
When sinusoidal chaos spikes
And past meets the future present day?
As paranoid points outlandishly connect
At intervals of broken lines,
Memory lost in recollect,
An array of misshaped bells
Internally infect the eternal confines
Of infinite distributional decay,
Parallels with no intersect,
Streetwise cells with empty signs,
Burned out lights, potholes, and landmines,
Littered all the way.
How am I to convey that all those times
You let your mind wander away
That I was reading, thinking, dreaming,
Teeming, never idle, never strayed,
Seeing, being, so far and away,
Even the brightest intellect beaming,
Could not grasp the feeling
In the slightest of highest orders reeling,
Wound unbound, or as it would be seeming,
Imperfect, even to the disarray
Of the tamest prefect, whose verdict
Could not predict the reflect,
For in this world, seeing is deceiving,
As the lamest reject, defect,
Increasingly decreasing,
In simplistic bliss obey
Crowned unsound fallacies
That contradict all meaning,
Hiding behind reality, the actualities
Lest, protect the thoughtlessness perceiving,
Let me stop you if I may...
I must interject for I digress,
What nonsense was I weaving?
Forget it—I've lost my mind,
I best be leaving,
What more can I say?
It's periodic I must confess,
You probably don't care anyway,
Yeah, yeah, I'll be okay,
Until next time I guess,
I wouldn't want to be misleading.
I’m scattered but I’m on point.
Sudipta Maity May 2018
At once I was a man of steel
up there in the sky
Like a bird, I used to fly.
Beat me or hammer me
I did not care about anything.
That was my iron age when
first time I  saw Time mechine
and eventualy fell in love with her.
I drived  her like a crazy lover
and trveled time across.
I was in a time machine where no button of reverse.
when then i reached my bronze age,
I proposed her by a  key with copper ring.
She smiled and take me more backward in time.
I was in a time machine where no button of reverse.
When then i crossed my stone age
i left my heart there.
Then finally  i reached in my ice age
where no one is there.
Only me and my liquid smile, frozen in time.
Slowly slowly I am into glaciation
never would be able return.
I am in a time machine where no button of reverse.
In travel of time,
I am in a paradox dnt know
its my future or its my past!
Danica May 2018
Tell me lies
As my feelings flies
Tell me truth
Cause it hurts so good

Why your lips taste so sweet
And yet it tell me just to quit
Why you act so malevolent
When all I can do is benevolent

You kiss me under the pouring rain
It's so romantic and yet I'm in vain
It's like killing myself in mercy name
Cause I'm hoping for your love that
You didn't give back.

I was sitting with this paradox thing
I just love you and nothing left
Just me and the broken glass of faith
With so much you and less of me
Mary-Eliz May 2018
tears spill out
from weary eyes

all color drained
no sparkle there
no life

my soul won't hold
the pain today

spirit split
and torn

my mind's sadness
makes my body ache

with leaden feet
weighted heart

when filled with all
this gravity

how can there be

such emptiness inside
Out of nowhere...out of everywhere.
PoserPersona May 2018
The mind and heart switch roles
          For reasons to stay untold

                               Silently screaming chest
                    Racing and quivering head

      Thoughts whip light speed modest
Body barely leaves its bed

          Unhappy for nothing
               Motivated for nothing

                    Paralyzing deadlocks,
                  Anxiety's Paradoxes
Form is supposed to be a twister or whirlwind. Hoping that's apparent before you read this lol.
Bipasha Dutt Apr 2018
In this impermanent life - we are struggling with some permanent pain.
afteryourimbaud Mar 2018
Maybe it's for you but not for me, but who knows?

When will the time stop and give way to the paradoxical space that will shove the soul out of its life, eventually?

Tend to think that the archetypal white collar worker is what you should be before you delve into the reality?

Jumped into the ripest chord of a void song, and you found nothing but truth and perplexity?

Threw yourself into the wilderness but you are still deprived of happiness, only peace, filled with emptiness?

Crashed the mental into bi-polarizing set of uncertainty and sanity, driving everything towards the ravine of confusion and misinterpretation?

Dropped the last sweat of joy and contentment before you discover the eventuality, pessimistic value of the whole context?  

Until the ultimate full stop appears, will you understand what is the whole story is all about?
Mystic Ink Plus Mar 2018
-
She was too young to die
He was too old to live

A new day begins.
-
Genre: Haiku
Theme: A  touch of thought
harlon rivers Mar 2018
Crimson maple buds magically pucker
under brightening skies
Lenten rose reluctantly unfolds
absolving the shadowed snow,
stemming the wintertide

Spring's impending bloom
mystically stirs the delicate human heart  
soothing from outside its sheltering shell

A converging pleasantness
of a sunshine sown awakening
cleanses each morning breath drawn
to sate an urgent restrained longing

The wilderness carpet comes alive
with a burgeoning salient sweetness
drawing out a glimmer of gladness
from stale suffocating darkness’
wallowing in the winter ennui

Another kind of poignant balm sinks
from the tall mountain willow tree
touching the sprouting blue sky

Furry fragrant catkins blossom sweetly
like the remnants of a love once known
softly brushing against a fading memory
of unerasable stains begrudgingly beget

Like fawning flowers falling fallow
in a passing season’s pollination breeze
Manipulating frayed heartstrings,
unhealed as the deer peeled scars
and rubbed bark of a mountain willow,
scarred  from another season past

Some protective shell ― never grows back
when benign heartwood is brought to light


harlon rivers ... Spring 2018
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