#unconsciousness
I fold my shadow,
pack it purposely
for transition through
districts that nightly invariably
abort me on
salty frigid sand mornings
that never smelled night
and night that
never ends.
Aug 9, 2025
Aug 9, 2025 at 1:58 AM UTC
The leaflet reads:
“Be mindful of your desires,
be careful
where they come from
and where they’re heading.
Use drive to drive choice.
Be the one who decides
before you join in
and follow along.
Otherwise
the path to your freedom
is then walked down
bare feet and bare mind.
The good ol’ valley of yours.”
Inside your own head, own voice,
while taking a handful.
Mar 26, 2025
Mar 26, 2025 at 4:26 AM UTC
Our unconscious mind
is very dark, so we dream --
of the dawn of day.
Jan 6, 2023
Jan 6, 2023 at 1:55 AM UTC
Suddenly recognized
a day running in the morning
An enemy that I was raising
another myself
Why you are there
How long have you been there
You have tackled me
against my entire identity
You have denied
what I was doing
Stop
You came from society
when I was young
By the words from
nearest people
I refused to accept you
But you have slid to my space
Shocked
It was me who was raising
in the place that calls
unconsciousness
Now I have found you
I **** you
Jun 14, 2020
Jun 14, 2020 at 11:07 AM UTC
A short but intense melody
Catching up with the seen and unseen.
Boundary of day and night,
Where earth's surging spin
Inexorably melts
Cascading aches and melancholy spills
Thirsty planets open,
For the ****** of rockets and unfurling of roots.
Nature holds her breath
and decides to wait.
The bursting promise within
the boundary of mountains and water
Life hesitates
Where serenity of silence rules over this deserted border.
Seen or unseen,the border of unconsciousness.
May 10, 2020
May 10, 2020 at 4:00 AM UTC
I wake up seeing bruises on my body.
Huh.
Turns out self harm can knock a person out
Just as much as her smile does.
Jul 26, 2018
Jul 26, 2018 at 9:45 AM UTC
The eyes look, but I see
The skin touches, but I feel
The nose sniffs, but I smell
The ears listen, but I hear
The tongue licks, but I taste.
So observation proves another.
A silent partner,
Silent until prompted
Waiting... and acting
When conscious eyes of experience aren't there to catelog being.
When all seems to flow naturally
I am not there to reflect
And no memory of my own can reveal
My lucidity.
An acting unconsciousness leaves awareness wanting.
Jun 26, 2018
Jun 26, 2018 at 9:49 PM UTC
she looks at his eyes while he stares at her thighs
and he's wondering if she's going to sleep with him tonight
the dress that hangs by her dainty physique is meant to impress
but all he pictures is what's underneath
their hearts beat giving values to their chests
of treasured boxes kept locked away from all of the rest
she wishes for solace and an assurance to not be pressed
he wishes to gain her trust and to take over, hoping for a nightly event of passionate ***
he lures her into a loophole of false intent
she smiles at his slipping mask but continues to reciprocate
they exchange words over drunk breaths
but she is too intoxicated so she forgets
her tenuous wrists are taken into his
she tries to refuse but eventually gives in
to forceful attainment and prohibited entry
she wonders if her racing heart will be heard through her thin exterior
she wonders if there are other words for "help"
and why men always have to be the superior
her fingers are helpless along with tight shut eyes
clothing sliding from svelte body parts, past unconscious skin
she senses heavy breathing, not hers, to keep herself wondering
unaware and completely susceptible
she falls asleep, passing out with her body against his
the sun will kiss her tender cheeks
with the absence of coffee drinks
she will be awake and lying next to nothing but empty sheets
she will remember looking into his eyes
hoping that he was the one to keep her safe from reoccurring lies
but he was nothing but a crooked thief
who robbed her of her entirety
n.j.
Dec 27, 2015
Dec 27, 2015 at 10:33 PM UTC
It is dark here
The folds of cloth sheltering
Smoke drifts by lazy in the air
The fear is present
Stay here
Stay underneath
It is safe here
My head rings loudly inside
Like a branding iron in my brain
Don't get up
The light makes it worse
Underneath is safe
Shut your eyelids
Let unconsciousness sweep the pain away
Apr 8, 2015
Apr 8, 2015 at 7:52 PM UTC
Do not presume to think dear sun
To ****** away my dreams
The dark still holds me in it’s thrall
Within the great unseen
They will not lift these limbs of mine
They wallow in their weight
Enjoy the burden of their bonds
Refuse to animate
A captive to these strains of sleep
Gladly shackled to my bed
I revel in their sweet confines
My eyelids drawn with lead
I Self sedate with each warm breathe
Benumbed by this safe drug
Which toxifies my consciousness
I revel in it’s fug
I will not wake, I’m staying here
Please do not liberate me
Reality’sbecome too much
For me to cope with lately.
Dec 11, 2014
Dec 11, 2014 at 11:37 AM UTC
There’s a gap
between
unconsciousness and unconsciousness.
© Barbara-Paraprem, 2014
Jun 29, 2014
Jun 29, 2014 at 10:46 AM UTC
Balance. What a charged and pregnant word.
Balance. Common in our daily vernacular
but void of it's innate and innermost meaning
Balance - what do you see?
The Golden scales of antiquity?
What a dichotomous lie
For Balance is multi-planar, multi-dimensional
Multitudes of exponential, fractal-like branches
Hanging from the largest trunk of the largest tree with the largest network of life-providing roots spreading in all directions at once like a wild-fire with unlimited fuel
Balance. It's perfectly symmetrical reflection
Only distorted by the waters of our perception
Thrives and simultaneously strives for connection
Connection to the mirrors of eternity
The pristine, naked, flesh-covered bodies of pure vulnerability, set free to explore this spherical dream
Balance is a friend, but left unseen, reaching for our touch without so much of a glance towards it's arduous efforts to bond with the deep dwelling dreams of Souls,
Balance can be distorted, as the tree is, in the ripples of our confused and distracted minds.
Crack! A branch breaks.
Balance falters, catches itself and picks up its severed limb - a sacrifice, for the greater good. The only good.
Crack! Another branch breaks.
Balance steps to redistribute it's misaligned weight
A sacrifice, for the greater good. The only good.
A fitting mantra.
Crack! Crack! Crack! Branches breaking back to back
Plummeting to the cold hard ground.
This sudden decay is too much to handle
The limbs of this great tree, the greatest amongst all cannot regrow at the speed at which the others wither
Ironically, balance is now imbalanced
Shaking, desperately grasping the ground with its roots to stay upright, at the very least, to remain present, persistent, possible, but, most importantly, present
Present for those vulnerable naked bodies to one day glance past their distorted waters and into the depths of what truly is...
A force, so strong, so humble, so forgiving reaching out through it's remaining, fatigue-strewn branches in a dire need to make contact with the branches of our mortality
When branches unite, as they shall, as they always do from time to time,
Imbalance is washed away as waves wash the shore
And Balance emerges from the distorted waters, now retreating, pulled by the tide of self-awareness
Perfectly, our fingers fill the gaps of our grief-stricken but eternally determined ally and meet with it's tender stumps, the necessary wounds of time
A fusion of worlds meld the two together in a forge as hot as the sun but as nourishing as a mother's touch
Balance, in all it's glory, sewn to us through the channels of our consciousness is now, truly, and undeniably,
Balanced.
- Brian Patrick Williams
11/13/2013
May 15, 2014
May 15, 2014 at 4:13 PM UTC