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Stxlle Oct 2018
It's late at night and I want to sleep but my mind keeps me dreaming. It makes me sick but it keeps my heart beating. No matter where I run, I end up back to you. You've reconstructed everything and now, I can sense the changes in my body even other people noticed too.

I am baffled by you. Perplexed by how you could pass through my walls without tearing them down. You've created a shadow of probability and I know I have no chance.  I could leave with the truth but I want you to keep me in this trance.

I want you to keep me in this small world I fabricated for us. Where no one can change anything not even the arrangement of dust. Keep this in the dark, keep it away from everyone else. I beg for you to keep me here but...

These emotions are overwhelming and I'm being devoured. I don't want them anymore. I'm confuse. I don't know what I want. I've tasted the sweetness of my temptation and I'm eager for more but I get a plate of actuality, something I didn't ask for.

Or did I?

I don't remember. I hear the sounds of rain outside our bubble.
The rain makes me think about the hows of us.
How it could feel holding your hand.
How we could be...
How we stay...
****.
This is another commission.
PoserPersona Jun 2018
Seeing is believing, for which we can perceive
Believing is seeing, for which we can't perceive
There are infinite things that are, let alone aren't
That we cannot even dream of, let alone chart
Living in shadows of a universe unknown
From stardust we are born, where from death do we go?
The Thing that shall possess,
The Thing that shall possess,
The Thing that shall possess,

ANGER!

"You're my possession."

The Thing that shall possess,
The Thing that shall possess,
The Thing that shall possess,

ANGER!

"You're my possession."

The Thing that shall possess,
The Thing that shall possess,
The Thing that shall possess,

ANGER!

"You're My Possession!"
n0r May 2018
eyes glazed, passing...
at magnificence...
this doldrum...
muddy browns...
streaks of green...
an ever changing blues...

a sudden crackling in synapses
erupting through the real!

a pale iris gaining
electric sheen!
a meaningless menagerie
collapsing into an expanse!
within this little slab of goo!?
Shadows or shadows of shadows?
Running through a field of stars
past the twirling gnomes…

The Bell-whistle blows as the train rolls in,
For the field of stars; my home…

An ashen horse in Celtic glee,
And me;

a weary sack

of bones.
The ashen horse is the moon, the gnomes are the twins; Gemini ...the train rolling is the stars in their daily/nightly journey. Read Plato's Cratylus.
sunprincess Jan 2018
Choices, choices are so difficult  
Socrates, Plato, Aristotle,
With whom should I spend my day?
With whom should I go?
With whom?
To an enchanting place,
So serene,
Speaking of things unearthly,
Things unseen
With whom should I spend my time?
Listening to birds sing
With whom?
Jas Jan 2018
My mind is an aviary of insane birds that I wish to fly alongside
Rather than feeling the freedom of their insanity
Through means of loneliness under an ever expanding ceiling.
Ref.: Theatetus, Plato
Shamans, in an attempt to find a word that all cultures could understand, to represent, universally, the subject; married the languages by root.

Each attribute or thing that the beast is said to do, have or have power to do or over is found as a definition in a language of the individual roots.

Take Sanskrit for instance. "Dra," is "water and combine it with Sumerian, "Gun, Gon," and you get a "water-born," beast who "writhes, twists or wraps around," which is the Ouroboros Serpent as shown in ancient images.

The secret to all ancient myth or religion is in interpretation of language into foreign languages over time.

And, yes, it is very creative, appears complex due to time but is just humans trying to describe observable nature.

None of it is meant to be taken literally unless you literally live six thousand years ago and speak in an ancient tongue.

Addendum

Keltic, "Con, Kon," makes the Dragon, "All-knowing." *

And we know from Plato that Greeks
stole their root words from the Celts.
Plato's own words in,

'The Cratylus.'
All mythology is born from the language of trade and existed as a pre-science.
Ginelle Nov 2017
in those late, fragile hours
on those dark, desolate nights
my soul seems to wander the earth
searching for a heart that matches mine

if soulmates do exist
then it is true that my soul was cut in two;
Plato was not fallacious when he said the soul splits in two

once you caressed my hand in yours,
and our fingers intertwined
i knew that this was forever,
that we were forever,
when i saw my life in your eyes
*based on Plato's theory of soulmates.
BE Twain Nov 2017
I was thrown from a boat like a prophet,
washed ashore on an Island of Baalbek-sized structures.
In the Atlantic, under the ‘i’ and ‘c’,
thirty-three north, thirty-three west, degrees.

Ancient mariners must have missed it,
concentric waterways and land bridges, cut by a channel to the sea.
Occasional women gathering and cutting cane,
dirges being sung by a certain, Sarah.

Farther up around the outer ring,
a Bay horse, trapped in a tidal pit.
Just enough seaweed at high tide,
eyes white from living in the dark.

A strange place,
I find myself the only man,
another Adams or Crusoe.
I will free the Bay tomorrow, and head inland.
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