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I see the stars in the sky—
note their pulls, their pulses, their pace.
I scribble them down in verses,
poems made of wonder and space.

I adventure with elves through dungeons,
craft blueprints in life and in game,
yearning for something like magic—
connection that kindles a name.

So if one day I meet her gaze,
the one that stills quantum waves—
collapses the maybe into now—
I'll finally know what it means

To talk of the stars, together.
To scribble the sky as one.
To quest through the dark and the clever.
To find, at last—
my sun.
At the quantum levels
the wormholes connect..
Muse is but a solar radar
where particles redirect..

The patterns open
in a dopamine state..
Brilliant thoughts
begin to race..
Write them down
before they fade..
We are merely antenna
in the bio waves..
Traveler Tim
Stella May 21
I’ve died so many quiet deaths—
shedding selves that were never wrong,
just no longer true.

Each one carried me
as far as it could
before laying itself down
so I could rise.

Now that I’ve found healing,
I see it was always there—
a quiet knowing,
guiding me forward
through the dark.

But now I wonder—
was it the knowing that shaped the path,
or the path that shaped the knowing?
Did I become who I was meant to be,
or did I simply arrive
where I’d always been?
Adrift in between—the breath and the break.
Muffled by silence. The real feels fake.
Visible ghosts pay invisible costs—
In search of myself, I found myself lost.

A stranger arrives. Identity wanes.
We share the same pulses that surge through my veins.
Observe my duality—tell me, who's true?
The body you saw, or the energy you knew?

Without the observer, I'm held out of phase.
I fill empty space—with more empty space.
You glanced in my direction, collapsed me to light.
I fell into being, from quantum-bound heights.

Euphoria sleeps. I dread my own wake.
Time ticks while I shake and my thoughts dissipate.
Here I am again—my lowest of highs.
Collapsed, but still standing, still living these lies.

I flicker between a phantom and soul.
Wholeheartedly hollow. I burn without glow.
The past still hums beneath thinning skin—
A whispering echo that calls out my sin.

Step in too close, or just take a look—
I quietly fold, closed up like a book.
The script rewrites its endings to shift,
As I drift, unwilling, through reality’s slit.

One path offers clean, another brings filth.
I exist just as is—your perception brings guilt.
Not welcome to be—medicate me to align.
Would you believe it’s your doubt fracturing my mind?

These moments go slow—I cope to feel new.
But each time I stitch, my seams just undo.
I’m a fracture. A wreck. Pathetically alive.
Until the next time I hide—from the gaze of your eye.
I've melted between the cracks of time.
Lost and found, dead and prime.
A ghost, a man. My fractured twin.
Collapsing as the light steps in.

I am only real when I can be seen,
Existing as nothing in moments between.
An echo that’s held in quantum breath.
Inevitable, superposed, ego death.

In the quantum rift, I’m free yet bound.
I'm dead but prime, lost and found.
Through a quantum fate, I twist and bend.
Observed, I mend just to break down again.

A visible ghost of a once kneeling king.
In the moment I was seen, I had lost everything.
Outside of perception, I exist in-between.
Fluctuating from the seen into the unseen.

Through one slit I'll grow. The other, decay.
But I am all. In all ways. The blood in my own veins.
Observe me as I am—I expand to retract,
Observing creates realities and I'm never looking back

Do you even truly know? Which "Me" is the true?
The matter that you saw, Or the energy you knew?
I'm an infinite soul, in quantum’s eternal high,
Reduced to a dream, in the gaze of your eye.

© Derek 'Abraxas'
I waver within my waveform’s depth,
A flicker lost in their measured sight.
They've named my lapse, a sound minds death,
When I witness all darkness bend into light.

A mirror stands between my thoughts,
it splits, refracts, then realigns.
So, they call me fractured, I'm just overwrought,
When I study existence expanding in time.

My tethered shinning of shattered hues,
Paid observers stare blindly to tell.
They label my state. They say they're "breaking through",
Not keen to the fact our perceptions do fail.

My essence flickers, I'm framed in their glass,
A particle, turned quantum wave, now undone.
Charting my patterns, they look down as they pass.
As I know, every wave will collapse into one.

The observers, they write their same repeated script,
Equations in ink are reducing my place.
But I'm more than their words can ever depict,
A paradox they know, their own minds could not trace.

So...
With your ink's certainty, tell which of us is "off"?
Who truly knows this pleromatic-scape for how it's meant?
Explain how the quantum can tell lies in its flux.
Say I drift and dissolve? KNOW, I'm standing unbent.

There stands a "scholar," A pen pushing bot.
For their status. For their wealth in a check at week's ends.
I'm a wave that was created by divine creative forces,
With a rare mind born from divine, purposeful accidents.
With embered wings, I pierce the blackest night,
A solar mass morphing into a black hole.
Each atom in my blood prepares to ignite,
Reflecting the true divine shape of my soul.

In the corridors of my own thought, the senses drown.
The mind painting prisms bleeding photonic rain.
No boundary here to hold me. In moments, I'm crowned.
In this kingdom of chaos, sculpting solace from pain.

I stand before the mirror of my own trembling soul.
A sovereign spark lives, who dares to hope it can heal.
A voice screams, that " One who has shattered his mold,
Transcends the one; fragments of being, each their own whole."

Pulses turn to diamonds, forming as the words on my tongue.
Minutes stretch — now endless lifetimes yet to be discovered.
I taste each shard of feeling that my heart has overcome.
My sorrow and my joy open, remaining uncovered.

My dreams, my faulted mind, like ones we called under-wrought.
Their eyes, constellations, like the ones we used to trust.
Chemicals react, dispersing waves, like songs we forgot.
Solitude and isolation bleed with each melodic gust.

And in the hush of afterglow, I wield my clean knife,
Open up my wounds till they reveal my true hidden name.
And from this crucible of pain, is born a new life.
My infinite flame burns as both the wild and the tame.

Following voices of shadows, divine potential’s own choir.
Their hymns — the portal to my soul yet to be embraced.
Chains bind me to perceptions, but for now, I'm more like fire.
Forging quantum bound waves, binding purpose to my fate.
Manx Pragna May 5
If that were true,
Then the probabilistic element
Would be that of environment inhabited.

The life we live.

Then the deterministic element
Would be that which we are building,
The mind. The neural structure of our brains.

How we choose to live it.

So that "thought" only resonated
To that which was properly crystallized,
By ways & means of communication
Through each axis. Dendrite, neuron, axon, synapse.

Matters on the formation of our matter.
Manx Pragna May 5
Photonic resonance?
Is this the most material description
Of the mental processes of the mind
By that of the *****, the brain?
Thought & the like?
But what is ever generated?
What ever arises from nothing?
One and One Equals One

I know of a being that's potentially me.
Only fractions shy of my energetic frame.
Like quantum puppets, attached at the beams.
Like watchers, observed. Opposites yet the same.

As gravity pulled his essence to earth,
New light begins forming a gleam in the mind.
I wait; I watch from behind my own eye.
I'm trapped, he's free, but neither are defined.

The real animates, a well painted vision.
The paint is too thick. His voice is too thin.
But still, this figure creates our collision,
Yet somehow never stains the glass within.

If I'd never looked, would this being exist?
If I look away, can I remain undefined?
Perhaps we're just flickering waves made of mist,
In the glare of forever, fates born to entwine.

The mind that can hear the voice that can't speak.
Echoes that invaded the boundaries of my dreams.
A quantum equation, an impossible sum.
One and one equal one, when lost in-between.
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