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I want to be where I am not,
and I am not the only one.
I guess there is not many souls,
who are quite pleased with their spot,
and do not dream about the swap.

Have to admit - they must be strong
to carry on just when they are.
The rest of us - unhappy ghosts
dreaming of places somewhere far,
of paradise, which isn't lost.

The place, where greener is the grass,
where bluer sky above the head.
I see it, when I close my eyes,
but soon I have to open them.
Oh, I wish I could keep them shut.
When I see a man
sitting in the corner of the street,
I say: Wake up! I know you can!
Don't waste your life on an unimportant things.
In the end, they will let you down.
Wake up, please!

And he looks at me in disbelieve.

When I see the youngsters
smoking **** in the park,
I say: It's time to wake up! It's the highest time!
Don't waste your life on an unimportant things.
In the end, they will let you down.

And they look at me like 'what the f*ck'.
Piotr Balkus Mar 10
Still cold outside,
so why are the birds singing
so joyfully, so loud?

Still freezing out there,
so why are the flowers blooming?
I don't understand.

The hope is still cursed,
so why am I writing this poem,
like it was my first?
Kenshō Mar 10
Peering down from a terrestial heap,
contemplating the debate at the seams,
exposing dim lights and the ones asleep.

I sat awake, in solitude, lost like a sheep.
Per(re?)ceiving all the secrets in ones dreams;
beneath the veil, and the ones that we keep.

What the bars in ones mind are made of are cheap:
confining and containing what one can gleam
from the empty gaps and the mental leaps.

I hope those objects and night-lights help you sleep;
Plato's shadowy projections move with moonbeams,
the brimful moon ebbing causes the shadows to creep.

The farside is bare, in twilight;
the mind becomes a maverick:
turning fireflies to winking sprights.

Can you regard all that I see
when you dream with eyes-closed?
And In your dream do people speak in poem or prose?

Are you transmitting dimensions of three
or are you given your dreams?

Do you wonder who contains those moments
and where they are received?

If heaven is dreaming nigh
I wonder what we would be

If God sent a message
what might be the presage;
And what might be the conveyance?

When you're dreaming Angels touch the ground,
revealing all that is bound.
~dancing with the beyond~
And (angels) evaporate in the dawn, or atleast seeming..

Let your eyes unlock~
Quick! The Gates are sealing
Run to recapture all that they've been stealing:
From all those who wish to lower your cieling.

---

A gypsy is whistling who's been up all night.
The dreams of many slip into hidden spaces:
Closets and under the bed; spirits dissipate.

As morning's light eminates
What do you see?
sorry for any errrors. enjoy
Why anyone,
who has seen the eyes of divinity
would ever think that they should leave
whatever space or place or mindset where
they found it, to deny intrepidly that,
without a doubt,
they sincerely believe
that they
saw nothing
out of the ordinary;
no mysterious magic miracle
meant to mean something
to the eyes of wonder
worn by children,
full of mystic revelry;
That there
in this world
with mind unmarred
nothing surreal occurred;
no mysterious light was seen
which no one else could see:
and (hold on)
dismiss that which is in his view of the world which he verily sees,
…and just … look away…
is strange to me.

Why would someone want to leave
the presence and the peace
of creation for some dream?

What motivation could there be to dismiss reality
…for some make believe world…  
that, in which, magic things - do not - exist?

I certainly cannot believe they’d look away intentionally…
Not me!
Composed on or around 1/10/24
Some final thoughts of an addicted mind on communing with god through drug induced means… a last desperate effort by a mind seized to justify its toxic, self-destructive inclination by making it metaphysical. It was deceived.

The devil in the room
Wants to know if you can see him
Doesn’t believe that you can see
Wants you to see
Doesn’t care if you believe
The weakness I see in you that mostly affects me represents the true nature of who I might be, it's those parts of myself that I don't want the world to see.

But why should I judge when it lives at my core, am I strong enough to admit I'm not that person anymore?

Why should I judge when I am the same way, I've just learned to hide it in broad day-light myself on fire to be born again free from fear, prejudice, and shame, so I can stand before you and look you in the eye to accept your weakness for they are also mine.


Done by:KCG
To accept the the flaws in others is a form of healing.
If you can't be anything else in this world, be kind.
Piotr Balkus Mar 6
Open to universe
limitless.
Rescues me
from nothingness.
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