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Tis the season to be falling
Tis the season to be gay
Tis the season to be flying
Higher, farther, away ~

Chains loosened she calls to her mother
An earthy musk, grains of sand, mud on her face. A scruffy mutt laying listlessly on the tarmac, ribs rattling with the effort of each breath. She is home.

Muted flames thrashing in its cage, raging in the midst of civilization, a crucifixion of sorts. Tearing at its hair wildly, the masses trickling by, mouth agape in a silent scream. Ashes mixed into pieces of scalp, begging to be found.

Oblivious to a sound like thunder, clapping in one's ears. Strangled scream lost in translation, a language so old none could decipher. Fear wielding urgency, a disguise of desperation, depression.

Refusing to be still.
Michael T Chase Mar 2021
...is like accounting.
Is more abstracting of the brain than calculus.
What's missing from it are the visualizations of what is being mentioned.
Like working with a space in the mind that can only make one or two changes at a time - giving logic but not seeing the big picture.
Unless the big picture is really only those one or two changes in the symbology and equalities.
But these only tell relations of 1-2 changes connecting and spreading like a web.
Chad Young Dec 2020
As Plato stated:
First study sound,
then philosophy,
and finally physics.
So too, in the inner school:
mantra,
then silence,
and finally visualization.

For once all three are studied,
all can work in harmony.
eleanor prince Aug 2019
those eyes are scarred
from damaged winds
on pavement singed

rent scenes recite
a diatribe
how do you live

holes dirtied leak
torn shadows sigh
they shelter filth

you cull the heat
until dice turns
to excise rage

with scalpel sharp
reprieve in sight
a poor man's

prize
----
©
At times we see old eyes pass us by, biding their time.  It may be on the street, in a bus or train.
Sometimes we see it in the mirror.  We know we would never do the deed. We seek to rise above injustice, to transform. But the primitive mind wants its moment, if only in mind ©
Alan S Bailey Jul 2019
On my journey to the center of the world
Of phantoms dreams, I find all my thoughts with
Mysteries. The moon is shining bright and there
Must be a werewolf out tonight. In the dark I see
Ten people in white-a group of preachers, cursing the
Zombies, and I can also tell the vampires around
Every corner must be down below. Every night it's the
Same, the sanity of reason never seems to be
In anyone's brain...the full moon comes I hear
The wolfman call, this seems like a normal night
In fall, but then I can tell you it's just filled
With witches calls. They cook their roasts and cast
Bolts and hail, and I can hear them chant while I'm
On the speeding city Light Rail.
Max Feb 2019
Life got me high,
Life got me low.
But when I dream, I fly.

And wheter I'm flying high or low,
I'll still be flying.
Because in my dreams,
I am in control.

So I never tend to miss a night, and so a dream.

Cause I don't want to lose control.
My hea made hella crazy dream last night.
Cerasium Oct 2018
Life is fragile
Don’t turn your head
Cause when you look away
Life has already ended

We look around for things to do
Ignoring the things we already have
For the newer shinier things we see ahead
Burying the old dull looking things we no longer want

When we can no longer feel complete
When all we feel is the hunger of something more
The wanting of something that will only sedate the craving
We have truly lost ourselves

Look inside and ask yourself
Do I REALLY need this?
Or do I just want it to be a part of a trend
Am I really going to use it

Will it be useful in ten years
Twenty years down the road
And we find ourselves digging
Finding old treasures we’ve forgotten

Like finding buried treasure
We hoard it for more years
Until we can no longer remember
When we actually got it

We think and think
But nothing comes to mind
We see the now junk items
And see ourselves staring back

We see that we too are broken
Covered in dust and unwanted
Forgotten by those who once cared
And buried by those we hold dear

But still we marvel at the novelty
The memories in which we can remember
The few moments of happiness or sadness
In which is etched into us like stone

When we are able to look at something new
And say that it won’t satisfy us
Only then will we be able to say
We have lived life to the fullest
Amitav Radiance Jan 2015
From consciousness
Are birthed your thoughts
Whose rays
Strikes the mind’s mirror
To create a reflection
Of your imagination
Silhouette at first
Bordering the edges of light
Finally, becomes clearer
To those with vision

— The End —