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Deepsha Aug 2012
Stuck in the moment
Choking
Breathing, or not, undisclosed
Mute, screaming
You, listen to me
That is not me, now that, is me, that is my friend, now that is me, again, stop, STOP
Clapperclawing the air
Heart, wailing to be ceased
Or at being ceased(mine?)
Eyes struggling for meaning
Amidst entailing
Begging to be opened
Or at least, spiflicated mercifully
Unknown faces, yet all seen
Please, before I wake
Help me out of this bad dream
Cweeta Cwumble May 2016
i want to feel the rush,
the tingly fireworks under my skin,
the buzzing sparks of awakeness.
i want to feel the bubble burst in my chest.
i want to dance. i want to ride the music
like a rollercoaster,
i want the thrill of the next drop,
the next wave of euphoria
pulsating through my veins
like electric current conducted by
all the goings-on around me
i want your energy and my energy
mixing together in the air around us
like a glittery galaxy milky-way aura,
a sanctuary of our own vibrations,
a place where our hearts are huge
and our egos small.
a place of peace, of love,
of unity, and respect,
of higher elevations
and acceptance for all.
can't we just do drugs?
In a swiveling chair, the black and white images of light to the west, are reflections of mind in a humming machine. Turning a head, there is a closed window, showing an energetically inspired pen the nearing sunset.
                                                Moon swept itching dark
                                             Twilight, sunrises curtain
                                                   pink lids - open eyes

With a blink of instaneous awakeness and sleep, the neck turns fast, to look for inspiration.
                                                    Dusk - apart painted
                                              eight queued paired mare and foal
                                                     foliage lined dark black
Without my sister's presence, the filmed horse's birth is only an image, lost. Indeed, it's the shadows of sunlight that have lit up the southerly tree with darkness!
Free poem by Kongsaeng Chris Everson -2010
Soudani Slim Mar 2015
How could you hug another man?
How can you kiss another lips?
How can you love another skin?
How couldn't I trust your smile?
Do you believe you can hide your lips?
Do you feel I can't smell your kiss?
Can you imagine I see your man?
Would you run away if I hit your fingers?
I feel the screams you hide
....
Anaïs Nov 2019
Bipolar love
sings dreams and
nightmares to me,
It coaxes me into
awakeness,
and paralyzes
me into sleep.

It becomes it,
because I fear it--
Becomes unspoken
and ignites an anger
so vulnerable I melt
into cursed tears.

It swallows me whole,
uses me and spits
me out~  empty is
how I feel,
I wonder,
Ever so often,
How it was I
drifted into this
endless sleep.

I faintly hear
a click,
like a bullet
leaving a pistol.
I wonder who it
hit.
Open eyes
are awakeness
and closed eyes
are sleep
so as I sat
experiencing nothingness
I was blinking
opening and closing
as day passed
in an instant
and night passed
in an instant.
Free poem by Kongsaeng Chris Everson - 2010
savarez Jul 2013
Dream forever drawing in
and holding hostage
on that plain between coroner's sleep
and fretful awakeness
a nervy brain-current
twitching REM
violent combat
forcing awake
to escape that relentless
scratching

Swollen eye
like a bee-sting kiss

Awaken to
birds' song
whose messages
translate
into
something else surpasses sleep...

Morning song enters
fears subside
life's dream
Lorraine DeSousa May 2015
I am incomplete, like a part of me is missing,



It wasn’t an absolute, it came over time



Amongst a tangle of knotted days.



In dreams, it screams, find the missing jigsaw,



And on the edge of awakeness,



In the fuzzy champagne light of a new dawn,



I almost capture it.



But it hides like a viper in the grass,



Moving the blades, yet impossible to see.



Involuntarily my awareness,



Diminishes the power of the scream.



In the mirrors of eternity



I dare to glimpse for the missing in me.



But all I get is a hollow blankness,



My waking mind defies who I am!



I knock on the door of unconsciousness



Begging with a bowl of fruits of mind,



Yet a barricade of steel like strength



Blocks my entrance.



I break down tiny fragments that rise to surface,



Yet this primordial desire to search



Is unrequited, unblessed, ignored.
Amanda Jun 2014
Out of the very edging of my eyelashes;
the little wisps of my mind

flits this pinky-promised wish.
This
childish thing                                          
                                      mingling with these balmy summery notes.

I cannot wait for those white, uncreased sheets to be infused
   with your                      
          little smirks & laughter.

For these two tea cups to ****** its wonderfully ***** of a sound to lull those lazy days to awakeness.

Your shoes right behind my foot-steps,
c r i n k ling,
creasing
snaps of autumn itself.

A peck on the nose between the gaps of our once-shy feet.
Yes, I know, I do know the title is highly contradictory and complete antonyms to one another.
But hey, isn't love like that too? ;)
Hey lovely reader!
I hope you are having a wonderful day, where-ever you are.
xo
Zel Jul 2017
A cynical calmness--embraces me,
As ocean waves slipped through my skin.

That's an awakening,
Where skies never touch seas. Z
What did you think? Pls feel free to critic or comment
Corine Renee Jun 2013
Yet again you've stolen
Another night's rest
From my blurred eyes
And weary mind.
But what's one more night
Spent staring at a graveyard of stars
If it brings me closer to
You?
Closer to the one time in my life
I was truly
Happy.
I can rub the exhaustion
From the brown irises
You once called beautiful.
I can push through
The sheer desire
To do absolutely nothing
Long enough to make it
Through work.
And as soon as I get home
I can collapse on my bed
And stare at the wall
Or ceiling
For a few moments
Wishing it was
Your face instead
Before I close my eyes
And attempt to sleep.
But I know my body
And mind
Will suddenly be wired
With the alertness
And awakeness
Of loneliness
And longing.
Because I'm still too weak
To overcome you.
Rayénari Das Feb 2015
Hide your scars
away from my lips
and maybe
illness will save us from past

Hide your lips
from my fire mouth
and maybe
we'll meet in the entrance of love

Hide your legs
from my one-thousand-eyes
and maybe
the end will take us
to the awakeness
or the misery
of being
two
sparks
of
divinity.

Hide your shame
into my chest
and i promise my love
i'll keep it safe
and clear
and pure

Hide anything
but
your
soul.
After sleeping a thousand years fell on my face greater light current Solar. I slept without smiling at the crowds buried and smearing my only bones.

The search of that hubbub, made me celebrate the porous bodies and spraying smooth falling on my fingers, delighting my humble tributes to the beetles that accompanied me to direct my view to the nearby burial vaults me. Some were swollen with a semblance of augury awakeness; like starting today, with the ominous words They moved from today, the paddling of my fleshless jaws.

Among gravestones of emerald flowers dinosauric, in clear blue autumn, some birds scrub on the edges of the carved stones. Meanwhile, mustards were riding on dry leaves carnations. The white-clad looked up Drestnia slab that closed their senses, remained behind bars with his hands crossed as evolving body To attend a new era of geography and different technology. On his chest he would run the living vertiginous wind up the corporeal hint in the light of Koumeterium Messolonghi; that housed over a thousand years ago, at Etréstles of Kalavrita.

This huge palace and flat, it is nothing more than an asylum, where the worst plague that began with the death of the sentinels of Lucifer, who dropped this place with its beautiful golden layers originated; whose satagénesis emerge the burning soil to ten fossilized cemeteries under the Messolonghi.

He walked slowly dragging my old body, the tenth floor, and that teenage girl's pointed stones would break my nails; as such if they were claws of a mammal trapped by lava from a volcano. In each advance, I awaken in my armor patriotic my last fight, and his tenderness observes how parents tilled by the conglomerate caste, fighting in underground elements.

Etréstles awakening ...:

Etréstles ...: Which of all columns erected is able to open all columns built in the pavilion of these moles without form or color ... just vitalizing lung diaphragm Eólico my daydreams, is who I think would ...?

To all who are runaways and trapped underground Messolonghi, I bring you good tidings ... Auriga with its blacksmiths come from the region of the Dodecanese to loosen the bars you father  Staktos lucid and my mother Vitabión well that in a thousand years, has been damaged her beautiful body. Since my birth in Ayia Lavra, I was being buried for the ninth time in the Ninth Fossilized Cemetery. Whose archpriest with holy oil trickled down my wall, pretending to be a dance of water generated at the bottom of the Ionian. Between the arches of the temple columns running down my mother Vitabión; an outward sacral vertebral bathe in the water of my past christenings. My past lives were providing mandated by the Auriga their previous lives. And your mother ... A day tried the weight of my recycle ... ?!

Beyond you., Comrades of wars, pilgrimages sacrosanct, lush gauzy baths civilization in the Olympic and equestrian fields.

To you. That you lie here, as is my death in my last life in the hands of a Spartan soldier. Pcs., Blood of my blood, I feel inside me speak your need ...

And in the ending Drestnia, which by its sixth rising from here from Messolonghi, between bars sealed thy grave situation for the Hellenic indeterminate.

I had to drink from the Pinosa resin to speak here, with my bony hands to touch the others are like yours ...

... Drestnia, my rib still preserved, I will be reborn placating the domain of collective wishful thinking, which prevents your freedom.

My rib you return to your present life, whose cold, flower seeds skeletonize the perimeter of your life ... Etréstles was with them into the Koumeterium Messolonghi, to about 1800 meters zenith direction.

They were to be the Necromessolonghi Council to define the minutes. -while music with winds adorned arrival-. Just at the moment, came the Auriga with its blacksmiths, they came to liberate Drestnia with its multi conscience. What happiness to Etréstles! He ran through the underground halls, to the oldest Koumeterium, the first fossilized. Where thousands of years ago, with many now-extinct species, Etréstles came to them the resoundingly good news.

While the Council inveighed promulgating the divine Sarmiento spray fields Dodecanese in producing seeds of Markos Botsaris.

Judge…: With my lameness, I have to advocate the reintegration of outstanding Markos Botsaris, that once we free them of the Turkish occupation!

Asurbanipal ...My Sirio reign, full of dynamism, placed on their doorposts the powerful image of South-west wind, in honor of his victorious from Kalidona.

Etréstles brought Drestnia just walking the Council and thousands of harmoniums undermined doubts Manor invoking the hero. They all stand, the Council at its octagonal table with his assistants left empty vine glasses to welcome, to the last surviving female first Koumeterium Messolonghi.

Harmoniums, as Apollonian rubies widen the dimensions of the caverns vaults. She sits and ends the music. Drestnia with some leaves on his shoulders adorned the new scene, which would sit by the new future.

Asurbanipal ...: To you gifts Oh, the universe, you are welcome to this Council, where one day they brought me to praise my contributions from the entrance of Humanity!

But the issue for today will await the arrival of Markos Botsaris as you who have reached this border, thanks to the generous Auriga.

Charioteer…: ***** wax Orion; Eternal fuel, donated them strength to my steeds pairs, that were raised over distant lands, to reach my blacksmiths desoldering the bars of Drestnia.

Blacksmith…: Our eyes closed every hundred kilometers, but Eurydice with your calendar, made the aphelion enclose us this feat.

Echoes ...: Dust ..., Myth ... Dream ... illusion ... have swirled galloping millennia, wearing gray storm...!

What dark words illuminate the hopes, just below, it is well known that there is much to do, because there is more activity on the surface ...!

Judge…: Etréstles, Drestnia ... past, present, or future will speak of you.

You Drestnia ... !, how long dream ..., defied your gothic vision, not move my neck to your neighbors, loved buried in the first Fossilized Koumeterium.

Vitabión ...: Messolonghi lives up to all cemeteries in the world, where they loved theirs near them. But they do not know life here is more dynamic than in the world of their own.

Menopausal women ...My husband cries on my slab because his infidelity caused me a bad venereal, which today has removed me from his life. The cries and cries for my ****** decline, all for being with another woman condemned me.

one curtain rises and leaves Funebrio; concelebrating priest all recent deaths ...

Funebrio ...: Woman when you cry my black clothes, cry black tears ...!

Your husband remains static, with no movement, despite many kilometers to their own devices. Forbidden habit becomes, how tempting. But rebellious Mother Nature pours us their punishment.

Staktos ...: Friends kisses you give yourself, Where have posted ideations ...?

Or yield to scatter everywhere the oscillations they meet other mouths.

Etréstles ...: Everyone I ask do well to prepare your labors. Even so, his desire to hold my naughty please heart in this hour by the arrival of Drestnia.

The judge asks to adjourn for the recess could then discuss strategies for future deaths.

Gravedigger ...Lord Judge at the stepped eastern sector has buried an architect. We could ask your cooperation to Botsaris monument.

Judge…: All in good time. It will be done, does anyone want something narrow ...? -Drestnia raised his hand and asked ...:

Drestnia ...: With Etréstles in the last minutes of our lives, which extortioner once is finished this monument, where our souls will be destined to remain here temporarily ... Messolonghi?

( extract from  Koumeterium Messolonghi, if any want a whole ebook to write joseluisctravel@gmail .com )

www.joseluiscarreniotroncoso.wordpress.com
Koumeterium Messolonghi. Epic and Metaphysic; book based upon 1.000 b.C. Era. Etrestles from Kalavrita rise up after having 9 lives. and then, liberate the sadly moment of the buried in Messolonghi.
Sophia Jan 2013
stimulant jitters
again:  another
cigarette , why not
coffee, why bother
to eat

if infinity exists i’m sure to get there
quicker; if god
is real i’m not going to meet him
in my sleep.  i promised you
to not stop writing;  now I can’t.  
this is the only high
i’m used to, anymore.

                                              i
have been introduced, finally,
to the mirthless dementias
of awakeness,
and the men who strap them down,
screaming,
to stretchers, and to            sleep,
and they don’t wear white coats but axes,
and the axis turns too
quickly
for biblical words
to anymore impact us:
                                               the heels click,
the sidewalk cracks              minutely,
the hungry
daydreams
die
-----------------
[ i
  sleep.
  the heels click
  minutely ]
Dianne Oct 2014
I.
The first time I tasted alcohol, I thought that it reminded me of you and how it burned my throat and left a firy tang on my tongue that can only be resolved by drinking more.

And by the end of the night, I was drunk enough to be aware of nothing but you.

II.
But on days I crave awakeness, you reminded of me caffeine. Wherein just the mere mention of your name shoots up my nerves; awakes my brain, keeping me alive, tingling and insane.

And by every wake of dawn, I only know that I am craving nothing but you.

III.
Oh but **** it. Be what you want to be. **** my senses, wake it; either way, I know I'll be ******.

Because either way, my love, all I really wanted was to drink you up.
PK Wakefield Dec 2015
my alive:

   this awakeness seems to breathe

of being close through skin
to heart and muscles
singing softly stroked

by peach parted
over pit stinging;

the gross and fuzzy pash
bristles and bur
catching on roughness of
lip:

has two eyes
completing after darkness
hair in pale perfusion,

lipping with flowers
curled in mounded heap;

whose breaking sound
(star startled)
shook with saliva

–throat can't

               but to

                    unkeep
Natalie Dinges Oct 2015
I want o be lost in awakeness
I want to forget the dauntful creeping of the clock
I want to stumble through my own mind
to revel in what I discover
to be led by the hand
guided by the unknown intuition we call our soul
I want to be wrapped and engrossed by the unseen
to dance and tackle with the deepest caverns
dive deep into them, unsure of my return
and in my final moments when reality seems to look over my shoulder
I find yet another path further down my subconscious
and then, again, I feel my soul expanding to fill the caverns
consuming and dancing
nurturing and growing
I am happy here
Here, in the caverns of my soul
Mirela Totić May 2016
Listen carefully
The sound of the silence
Dropped from the universe of hope.

Listen carefully
The voice of your deepest thought
The wind rolling over your arm
The smell of memories!

It's the call of awakeness
The touch of clearness

Turn yourself around
Feel the infinity of your being
Feel the energy of your energy
Touch the air with your lips
Kiss me with the waves of silent moves
I will feel it...

Can you feel it?
Listen...
The beauty of your existence
The brightness of your tears
The sounds of your smile

Take your love,your fear
Take your good and bad,
take it under your arms
And walk like you never had before.

M.T. 2016.
OnwardFlame Mar 2017
I love hearing you talk about where I use to live to your friends
Especially as the rain pours down
On the little refrigerator vehicle
We whisk ourselves away in
And I try to forget
The ways I worry and hurt
As the lightning that glimmers
In the soon to be spring time night
And I just hope
My love for life
And awakeness
Comes fleeting back.
Blue Flask Jun 2015
The days are great
i'll say when they are
the nights not so much
morning seems to far
the days only seem that way
but the truth is
the nights are filled with restless awakeness
or dreams that are hit or miss
every moment around others is hell
and every moment away causes me to panic
i dreamed of you again last night
i woke up and never recovered, manic
mj Apr 2017
-
awakeness is only an idea
psychology, a trick

i will trick myself for as long as it takes
to feel on top of the world
and see the stars below me
simone jewell Jan 2017
there is a spark in me
welling up inside
a jump in awakeness
a burst of some sort
something special begins to fill my veins
fill my veins with
hope &  light
it's as if i have met the stars and slept on the moon
so surreal
oh how you make me feel
Alicia Moore Jun 2020
To fall in love with writing
is to fall deep into an endless cavity.
Ready your stance for your emotions to be barked,
for your fears to be actualised,
for your dreams to be ignited.
Words serve a purpose to grasp the blind hearts roaming this wide escapade of awakeness.
I-sun Apr 2020
loving you
is a dream
      in awakeness
Remus Johnson Dec 2020
***** bonk
my awakeness went thonk
my hands are cold
my dumbassery is becoming increasingly bold
can't focus on art
avoiding thoughts of a human becomes increasingly hard
just wanna rest in their arms
Lily Priest Jul 2020
He wrote me
wondrous
charmed with
child-like innocence
and soft
with safety

But close the book,
creak of wood
and crawl
of thieving
fingers,
off with the
innocence
let it settle
on the floor,
as stony cold
as all that
softness has become.

He wrote me brave
proud in the way
ladies
should be,
unafraid
and lovely

But turn the
page
and all is fear
and fretful
dreams
soak skin
to awakeness
when footsteps
mark the hall,
and rattles
turn to the
dooming click
of entry.
He hears
every silent
scream.

He wrote me defiant
unreliant on
conformities.
social standing
was just
weakness
dressed prettily

But end the
phrase
and compliant
limbs
fall exhausted
from the fight
and tear-stained
cheeks sting
rosy red
against the pain.
em Dec 2019
They said that life, itself, was all one big miracle,
As to me, I know of nothing else but miracles,
When I walk the black of the manhattan alleys,
Or dart my eyes over the roofs bowing to pedestrians,
With the windows that frame the solitude of a lone cat,
Or stand under trees in the woods,
Stretching their tired arms towards the sky,
A same routine of eternal awakeness to souls drifting by,
Standing at the ready for the open fire of the harsh winter,
And the soft song of spring,
Or sitting at the dinner table with the rest,
Or talk by day with anyone I love,
Or sleep by night in bed with anyone I love,
Or wade with naked feet along the break of sand and sea,
To me the sea is an infinite miracle,
With life just under cusp of blue and swirls of green,
So much life that of which we cannot see,
With men in ships and shells in sand,
And salt that stings the eye,
What stranger miracles there are than these?
Glenn Currier Oct 2020
Awakened by a nightmare
       lost my wallet and belongings
fear in the darkness
my prayer empty
dominated by fright
here I am writing
on this lit screen
trying to find peace
and security.

Is it a malady of our species
this fear in darkness
always looking for light?
If not a malady,
the human condition.

In my awakeness I know
sanity is learning to live in smear,
the swirling mixture
of darkness and light
for now.

— The End —