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Arthropod King Nov 2011
I tried, believe me, I did.

If only you could have been there to watch it.

I ran inside myself.

I drowned within my spirit.

I swam in a sea of blackness, filled with my essence.

I felt my warmth.

I cocooned myself inside this body, and cancelled any outside resonations.

I turned inward and made my concience backwards.

I ducked, the ever-flowing world passing me atop my head.

I curled into nothingness.

I became dissolved.

I felt my spirit.

And just like he told me,

I merged with myself.









And nothing changed.
Metempsychosis and Dream
METEMPSYCHOSIS AND DREAMSCAPES


Dramatis Personae ---


nYxEr0s -
an umbral being wielding the soul "morpheus nyktelios", in the shape of the sword of nocturnal dreams.
he can enter the dreams and sub-consciousness of trees, rocks, rivers, droplets of rain and people in order to restore inner balance, or destroy it.
he is the principality of earth and water intertwined.
the personification of ****** nocturnal desire and the night itself, and he wields the power to restore, fulfill of destroy dreams.


IrUx0iD -
a name that is whispered in nyxeros' dreams. the inverted and warped spelling of the secret name of his second self, his one true love; The Dioskouri.
this astral phantom wields the sword "Philopannyx", because his power and reason for being is to love the night, and all that the night encompasses.
one day these two variations of one purpose will meet, fuse in a loving and resplendent embrace and then the universe will devour itself, overlapping it's inexplicable film of pure darkness, converge the surrounding nothingness upon it's solemn silence in the darkness, and then light will be born and life will begin anew.


AWAKENING


An eldritch and wyld prescence has manifested itself upon these desolate shores. Emanating from the deep soil of a long forgotten world. Rich with life and benevolence, but also terrible cruelty. It is very old, and at the same time, very young. A will of old, and a spirit of youth. It has taken the shape of a human boy. He has come from beyond the river of eternal sleep. The merciless kiss of death and mortal undoing has left a crest upon that precious dwelling-place of his dreams and young intellect, as it is called in the world in wich his chtonic vessel now unknowingly decays. Now this being has come to us, in his final stage of sentience. Deep in his soul, the nexus of a bleeding ocean, a forgotten dream is trapped in perpetual waxing and waning. Upon his moonlit countenance, two glass-like spheres are set. They belong to him. This luminous soul, fettered to this pathetic configuration of earth and water. two lonely, dark and unfathomable windows into the neverending vacuum of his soul. lying there. poured into infertile soil. alien soil. a mortal coil lying in listless apathy. human apathy. what is this human doing here? from what resplendent dream did he sojourn from and traverse through. oh liminal, boundless being, your tragedy will inextricably unfold, like the petals of a perfectly nourished and complete lotus. there is nothing your dying body can do. the contriving universe has manifested you in this abstract realm for a reason. a purpose. to discover the hidden schemata and destiny that sleeps inside, and to encounter and seek out the other half. your other half. you are a split soul. a mysterious schizm. empty by yourself. whole and compleat when unified. he exists somewhere in this neverending desert of grief. precious limbs that was lost, and throbbing wounds gained in your previous stratum of existance, are in this world reconfigured and presented to you in the form of sacred gifts. weapons and protection and magic that you may wield in order to defend your heart, and the hearts of others in need. weapons of absolute destruction, or benevolent aegis. these curses transmuted as wonders we give to you. absolution for past crimes and malignancy we also give to you, precious dreamer. we exist to guide you. you will find that wich was lost to you. that wich you have longed for all these stringed existances. we incarnate you once again, so that you may resume this task. one day, the interlaced network of dark brooding stars that desperatley glitter and gleam inside of you, will reach out for that wich they yearn and interact and intertwine with your twin light. the one that was made to compliment and render absolute both of your insulated existances. this is the one and only true alchemy. in the black land, lies and misstruths are whispered by venomous tongues. poison poured from dread lips and fill the once pure air. tormenting all fragile life in this sphere. accept this sword, morpheus, in your hand and embrace the hidden music of the night. this is our gift to  you. accept them now into your etherial incarnation and your everflowing, grieving heart. wield your true gifts. wander alone beneath the dying stars of this world, and free the ones who dwell beneath and beside you. living in fear and despair. once you have done this, brave warrior, the hidden path shall be revealed to you, and your love will await at the ends of this universe. at the end of time. go now. into the endless night. dark haired creature. heart of the ocean flowing within. The death and rebirth of stars light the way through the neverending desert of perpetual night. nyxeros the gods whisper. a primordial name. a second gift granted to the warrior, so that all the creatures of this world may speak it and whisper it in benevolent tones amongst themselves. nyxeros had been wandering for 77 nights and 77 sub-nights. weary and lithe in limb and heart. he sat down in a patch of mysterious mercurial grass. everflowing darkness wreathed around him. framing his wyrd existance in silence and a subtle agony. he layed his sword Morpheus on the surface of silver beside him and shut his abyssal black eyes, and allowed sleep’s gentle touch to caress his mind and soothe his aching concience, and thus, for the first time scince he had awakened in this world, he fell asleep. he dreamed of planets making love to each other, and giving birth to supreme music that again gave birth to new planets. of galaxies exchanging wisdom and expanding into one-another. and of a voice, beckoning from some darkness. a darkness from a place in the nothingness. a hollow place. a compression of past, present and future. someone was calling to him. alien words that he could not decipher the meaning of. but his heart fluttered and a deep longing ignited within his heart of chaos. somewhere, in the infinite K0s:m0S, someone was waiting for him. someone had begun a journey at the opposite end of the vast darkness of space. wandering alone, and sad. but forward, always forward. towards him. nyxeros could feel it moving. a faint contraction of the fabric of space. a frequency so weak, barely noticable. but he could feel it nontheless. deep inside. nyxeros opened his eyes. the black stars residing behind the frail lids of his eyes eating up all the blackness of erebus, making the deep, black pools of his soul even blacker and deeper still. his left hand, engraved and scarred with terrible and agonizing poetry clasped around the hilt of morpheus. he stood up and peered deep into the horizon of chaos. The great and wide melancholia of dust and dead wind and withered mountains. The void and the chasm of his cleaved soul urging him to brave onwards. In the ever-expanding distance, a faint light was discernable. His black eyes could scarcely witness it, but it was there, without a doubt, and his heart convinced him that this was true. Something stirred in the distance. So he gripped the hilt of his dream-blade tightly, and began the long waltz towards the strange faint melting light beyond.
I wrote this as an experiment, to see what would pour out if i just kept on writing non-stop, without thinking about anything really...it actually makes a lot of sense to me, but it's mostly just metaphysical mumbo-jumbo, and it's not polished, or meditated upon. Anyway, i just felt like posting it. my reasoning and agenda behind exhibiting this piece is as abrupt and cumpulsive as the mode it was written in. thank you-
Ashatan Tee Oct 2013
I procrastinate quite often.
Even now as my fingers slide across the mosaic keys, my body is procrastinating
Yet my mind and my concience is begging for my undivided attention.
I will never understand the science behind such a mindless act.
Why is it that I draw my focus away from the things that matter
And then concentrate on the things that do not?
Like the bent corners of my paper
The lid that grips loyally to the end of my pen
The spiraling spine of my notebook...
All the little and insignificant things that
do not matter.
Oh how so sadly ironic,
That even such a mindless act can hold some truths about my life
And how I tend to mindlessly focus on things that just
Do not matter.
Out of crassitude with gross vision
Awakened to just another lip
service
A mind deaf and obstinate to my
opinion
A heart so hard , the passion
waned
From your cup I tested the wine
felt amiably pleasant in a moment
devine
your decietful tone blurred my
senses
A vocal utterance breaking through
my defences
On the eve of crossing the line
my liberty denied being subject to
your concience
my innerself detected an accurate
vivid sign
A discovery that revealed a Vision
unclear
Poetry is music and music is magic.....it is
my voice, the brush that paints my feelings.
Charlie Miles Mar 2011
I called her up at last orders with the hair of the dog between my teeth.
I told her 'I hate the way she tastes' - How Freudian of me to say so.
We met in some dark, sweaty place between the heavens and the gutters
where we could **** each other till we didn't hate each other
and drink till I wasn't ashamed of what I'd done,
all the while praying that my concience would keep me from coming.

So, with our half-hidden forms snaking over each other like spaghetti-junction an hour before the rush...
Her hands wrapped around my hands, wrapped around her legs wrapped around my throat...
Two bodies attracting and repelling, repelling and attracting,expanding and contracting till it all felt like the same movement...
I washed the stink of defeat off myself using the sweat that pooled in the small of her back...
There, in that dark sweaty place between the heavens and the gutter
we ****** each other till we didn't hate each other
and drank till I wasn't ashamed of what we'd done
all the while praying that my concience would keep me from coming.

I ran into her about a fortnight later while trying to drink away a headache caused by drinking away the ehadache before that.
I stood up with shirt unbuttoned and shouted
'I'm a man at the end of his rope - I need a good woman. But, since I don't see any of those around here...'
Dot. Dot. Dot.

If looks could ****, then surely they could maim, mutilate, desicrate, laugh, scream, cry, give birth and make love as well
and the look she gave me seemed to all of these at once.

She said 'You've got a lot of nerve
to say you are my friend
and then to commit benefit fraud'.

I took a sip of my drink and before I'd swallowed it she was kissing me deep enough that I could **** the cigarette smoke right out of her lungs.
She bit my lip and drew blood.
I grabbed a handful of her hair, she grabbed my ****
and we both wrestled each other
into that familiar place between the heavens and the gutter
where I drank but I was still ashamed.

So I took twelve steps away from the cloud of scent left by her skin and said
'If I ever see the back of your head again, it'll be too soon.
So get the hell out of my life, my head, my skin, my t-shirt and especially my bedroom.'

But,
as sure as you can't solve an emotional problem with a physical solution,
her memory hung around,
festering and itching my insides like a nicotine craving.
I can still taste her breath on humid days.
Eighteen months have been and gone but I can't srub the smell off of my fingers.
Even when I can't see straight I can still see her naked body stretched out on the pavement,
tanning under streetlamps
or dancing between the headlights of cars

But even at my most alone I have never felt my heart break.
My liver screams.
My stomach turns inside out.
I wretch.
I sweat.
But I don't cry.

Still, it's days like this that sobriety doesn't seem like a bad idea.
Marshal Gebbie Jul 2011
For every leaf in Autumn’s fall
A child is lost without recall,
For every song that’s sung for love
A child is whipped by callous glove.
For every latte shared in joy
There’s *** abuse to some small boy,
Each million dollar haul of art
Starvation stills a child’s young heart.
When tears of joy cascade in breeze
A thousand homeless children freeze,
For every morning sunbeam clear
The cloud descends on some child’s fear.
For every excess we consume
Mass underprivelaged children loom,
Blond beauties all attired in red
Unwanted babies left for dead.
Massive plenty for the few
Dispossessed small children *******,
Privelaged cold concience clear
Little feet bequeathed the fear.
Global sympathy won’t change
‘Till effete thinking rearranged,
Sanity shall not transform
‘Till WOMAN leaders are the norm.

Marshalg
For the lost legions in our midst.
20 July 2011
Shreaded heart due to color of the skin,
Lonesome nights due to attire I'm found in,
Invisible due to the identity I'm lacking,
How can it be that all of this is still happening?

Inocence in a cell because the color tries to define them,
Eyes of hate cover the dark hair upon them,
Forget the studies if papers weren't probided,
How can we live passing all the judgement?

Military veteran, but color over sees it,
Depressive memories drowning a person's surroundings,
Brought accross at the age of no concience,
Let us widen out eyes to see instead of look,
To listen rather that simply hear,
To speak not talk,
To extinguish this judgement basing on the cover of an incredible story that may walk right past your ignorance.

-Kathia Mariana Landeros
We always judge people without knowing them, or by their race, what they wear, and other things.
She Writes Jan 2019
The remnants of your influence
Echo down the halls of my concience
Long after I slipped away into the night
Here you are still
Whispering that I am not good enough
I cannot make on on my own
The Isolation of my immense solitude's

Find expression in words

Beautiful incandescent words

Energetic advocagets

Of secret fibers of consciousness

That block out a harsh and unforgiving reality

Who transform an everyday darkness into intense light

Words that are not complete unto themselves

Nor empty but malleable with relentless perspicacity

Creations mythical and radical that cast fanatical curiosities

Upon the clear and harmonious contours of the mind

Melting nerves and thought making concience blush

With contemplated reflections of paralysed silence

Imprinting multicolored words on an immutable identity

With elegant and capricious expression that brings a joy
serendipity Oct 2014
Moved by the sonnets of musketeers
I was,
kept in motion with the force of a rose
And adifferent name that smelled as sweet
Set to rest by Ravens
Calmed by stories of his beautiful Anna-bell-lee
She
Comforted me with tales of Caged Birds
and the songs filled with dreams they yearningly  sing
I was taught to love patiently
And that although love hurts it does not envy
I was freed by teachers with words of wisdom
Taught to not look at words but the lessons within them
I heard the tell tale heart and was immediately cautioned
Meeting my own guilty concience
Felt just a bit nautious
I walked a road less traveled
And met phenomonal women like Mrs. angelou
Im ever dream within a dream i walked
I found a dream deferred then born anew
And at the end of my bountiful journey
Somewhere where the diverged road bends
I hope to be touched again by an angel
Layed to rest in a place where the sidewalk ends
180
Sad is when a loved one passes,
Unbearably depressing is to watch a loved one deteriorate.

When their mind twists,
The concience unraveling.

Addicted to control,
Addicted to unrealistic expectations.

A complete change from withing themselves.

It is harder to watch a loved one die on the inside and become a stranger, than it is to watch them pass.

-Kathia Mariana Landeros
Odi Nov 2011
The curisoisty that satisfaction bred
is nothing but a lie inside your head
Or should i say the satisfaction that curiosity led
Is nothing but a mistaken feeling
inside your demented head

And you ponder each question
with such thoughtful insight
but dont you know honey
what you dont understand, you only fight

And dont you know little one
that while the worlds about to turn
your just a speck of dirt
under the burning sun?

Im sorry if you feel so small
So insufficient to the world
but take comfort in the fact that there's 7 billion other people
Who feel like that, girl

Didnt you know sweetheart?
That your just a footprint in the sand?
And when the tide comes crashing in
Youll be gone, nowhere to be found

Your the sound in the forest
That a falling tree makes
And if theres no one there to hear it
then it didnt really break

You create something false, so easily broken
to replace a concience thats just non existent
and im sorry you feel so worthless
But i cant find a lie that truth invented.

Theres 3 sides to the story
but i think mine is true
theres only one way something happens
But then again so do you
Joe Hill Apr 2010
melting away
constantly bubbling
boiling down
concience is fumbling
dripping so fast
mindlessly mumbling
waiting for someone to open the door

losing my sight
cant stop my stumbling
caught in a daze
dizzy from tumbling
all alone now
body is crumbling
no one to help me get up off the floor
Marshal Gebbie Sep 2013
Response to a poem by Terry O'Leary....
of lost promise,
of the damning futility of war.*

Of War you speak, in tongues of pain
You caste the colours darkly red,
You paint the atmosphere as rain
Of crimson tide to drown the dead.

Of twisted souls, you etch and faced
The passions felt, in tears of shame,
You sculpt the lines of guilt misplaced
Accumulated shards of blame.

Where hath the innocence flown of late ?
Where is the concience worn?
Why hides the love in tiers of hate
Where hope's catharsis borne?

What chance tomorrows tender tear?
What chance of helping hand?
Were man's intentions once made clear
In Boa's war locked land?

M.
Pink Taylor Feb 2011
It's been a while
from when the bright sun first
rose into my heart
Replacing my thirst

But night soon creeps
And loneliness does wrap
It's hands round my neck
and sinks claws in my lap

My need for blood comes
As waterfalls fly
Deep down in my pillow
My concience it cries

I silence them all
Monsters neath my bed
Monsters in the corner
Monsters in my head
2005, 7th grade
Noname Jul 2013
Honey suckles
Suckling
She pitter patters across the moon lit pavement
In the air there is a faint smell of blood
Behind her he stalks
"Oh love oh love"
Thy hands may touch whatever thy please
She follows her shadow in to the darkness
Where she finds a wall of bricks
And a stray cat
From the corner of the alley he's lurking
She sits on a worn piece of cardboar
Many persons home
He starts to approach but retreats
She feels someone
He call's her name
So she found him
In the moment of panic they embrace
Noises pour from within her
Her cheeks wet and scarlet
More than ever she relieved
But truthfully she's scared
The heart only as fragile as the beholder
Strong; but far too weak
He holds her
Not letting go
He squeezes
She's hurting
She can't breathe
She closes her eyes
Misunderstood they're whole lives
They suffocate eachother
Till the world is no more
Restless soul and empty bodies
Lay across the pavement
Dead and beautiful
They lay there for eternity
She who gives her body to the one with no concience is sure too be in danger
But its worse to give your heart and soul to ***** mangey stranger
Noname Jul 2013
You try so hard
Little girl
Getting ***** so fast
It's fun it is
But enjoy the little things
That come sooner to past
Don't let his words get stuck
Theres more to this world than lust
Though you may not see it now
It's there
Try
Little girl
Your getting stronger
Growing wiser
Hips getting wider
Your becoming more lonely
You have become your bestfriend
For some reason you've thought
People are different
You had so much faith
But it's disintegrating
Notihng but coldness
You play with there minds now
Your a master of disguise now
You stare into the eyes of strangers
Take them to your fortress
Unwravel there concience
Make them your soldier
You kiss the goodnight
Cutts run deep up and down
You bleed out staining the sheets
You say its for dramatic affect
But your scared
Maybe one night it won't end
You make the call
He drops it off
You take it down
Now your gone
You've made this persona in another world
But your not present in either
You've run away
To fragile too catch
Little girl, please
Slow down
Marshal Gebbie Aug 2012
Suspended there, between the walls,
My concience, in it's ignorance, calls
Upon my callow, shallow self
To gird the ***** and bridge the shelf
Of failure...in my every day

For which my dear wife...has to pay!

Marshalg
4 August 2012
midnight prague Nov 2010
the woman that I really am lays in my hands
and my palms are closing around her
I want to suffocate this thing moving
why do you drape me in the flags of your country
filled with its millions
yet I am so alone within you
countless and needless
pin drops on the wooden floor
where I held onto to you last night
you me
myself
I held onto myself and spoke with charm
because my concience wasnt even there
just my arms

my nose traced the cracks on the floor under me
drops of salty water pressed against my lips
then my tongue
then into me
and recycled for hours

dust leaves its traces on what was something that
was suppose to be a bond without intimacy
but a bond of human love
green birds come to my window and leave black notes
and sing black notes
and spread black notes to other windows

but oh little green bird I fed you when you were hungry
I opened my door for you, to come and seek refuge
I let my words help you
you failed me
oh how you failed me
and you left quite miserably

no gesutre did I give to have you turn your back on me

should I say it
should I ask it
to forgive me for being me
for moving the way I do
for even looking in your direction or speaking to you

love quivered hands
freindships bonded
souls with few simple silent moments
other silences came

torture me so that my fingertips never want to see light
and my day consistently turned into a barren night
no fight exceeded something as such
from a stone a cobble a crystal that I held on to so much
dont let it be that it is any other being you trust

for humans when eyes wet in lucious envy what freindships do is rust
Chris Apr 2010
I know how God wants me to live
and in my mind, my all I give
But my intentions through the day
Are countered by a call to stray

Faced with sugar-coated sin
My feeble will it soon caves in
My concience dulled, I do not see
The man who hung upon a tree

I blindly walk into the flame
Until at last he calls my name
Arrested by the words he taught
I'm taken to the highest court

Before the judge my crimes are laid
But 'cross the top is written 'PAID'
The judge is looking straight at me
'Your debt is paid. You are now free.'

He offers clothes of perfect white
But I'm not sure I heard him right
'I can't be free. I've failed too much'
Subbon I ignore his touch

And insisting that my cause is lost
I leave to build myself a cross.
Marshal Gebbie Oct 2015
Tangents fly
As serpents die
Life ends as it begins,
The ups and downs
Terrain of clowns
Commits it all to sins,
So, go for broke
It's just a joke.....
'Cos he who loses...Wins!
M.

But....Wouldst thou see
Thy perjury
In pondering my
Soliloquy?
And should thou wear
Thy penury
If truth should prize
Thy concience free?

Then, writhing thus
For all to see....
Wouldst thou blush
A smile to me?

M.
Alex E Morris Dec 2010
Becoming who you never wanted to be
The one's you always watch and see,

If.. Perhaps you've turned into one of "them"

...Struggling about for the truth,
It's never black and white,
Never quite as simple as his princess and her knight.

Confusion strikes a key of fear into every action you take.
Worried, so terrified you've made a critical mistake.

Windows shatter as violence erupts within,
an inner concience reigns upon logical thought.

You attempt to resist, but...
...see no reason to doubt.

The conflict from within recides,
though,

There will forever be a part that's screaming for change,
For the change you never would have wanted in the first place.
Erin Melody Jun 2015
I simply cannot forgive
myself for the restlessness of my heart
for I have burned
and I have splintered
and I have crushed
the hearts of others
And so, exposure
brings back the demons of the past
and the hurt and the loss
I have caused
and I have endured

Keeping the pain close by
Also keeps the beauty of the memory from being forgotten
Remembering the electricity of the
Moment sends a shock through my concience
And all I can do is learn and grow and be

be the pain. be the memory. be here now.
written 11/24/14
Borges Jun 2014
I think that the whole essence of the written word., literature is of the laberinth of concience, existance what we are, this exotic immortal animal whose home is the soul.
Title
Stacey Ann Sep 2010
Looking back on life I realize I am guilty of so many sins.
My concience I keep close to me to remind me of my misguided attempts at life.
Looking at myself in the mirror is like looking through glass...
Every mistake, every pain, every problem...
It's there staring back.
I try to look away but my haunted eyes catch my gaze...
Clear and blue...too often filled with pain.
Memories flood my mind from yesterday and before...
What have I done...
How much more damage before I can do no more?
The glass grows clearer as time goes on...
Hindsight is 20/20...
But does it get any easier to look at our failure?
And back in the mirror a scared little girl stares back at me...
I don't want to remember her...
I wish she wasn't me.
Too many times she was never good enough...
Too many times her Mommy's love was a little too rough.
Her eyes are pleading...begging for love.
Putting her back in the glass is not easily done.
And the images start to fade...
With my mistakes lingering in my mind like yesterday...
The ironic thing is that glass isn't the only invisible thing in my dream...
I'm invisible too...there is no reflection to haunt me in this mirror of horror...
I am truly alone...
For everyone that never saw me...
For everyone that never knew...
I don't really have any words of wisdom for you...
But your day will come...
We can't always be strong...
The mirror will haunt you too...
Long after I am far gone.
Torin May 2016
Awaiting divine intervention
The play reached its intermission
Nuclear fission and friction
Gods kitchen
And we can all go hungry

The stars shine without reason

Still I thought that I should mention
Screaming so loud no one listens
Peace in bitter condescension
A beautiful fiction
And we can all believe it

We can all bleed the same

We are strokes caused by lesions
On the brain
Of the singular concience

There is only one mind
And its sorry all the time

Its sorry in any dimension
You're ******* welcome
david mitchell Aug 2018
i wonder,
how well i know the way you walk.
i wonder,
if it's comparable,
to how well you knew the way i talk.
deliberate yet jumbled,
opposed to your slyness.
confident yet humble,
we shared a ***** concience.
always responsive, always nonsense,
when we schemed a way to test my patience,
and a way to smuggle our symbols across the sea.

i'll miss you,

sincerely.
sing song ding **** ditch, i once met a girl that called me a snitch.
king kong ping pong pitch, she called me a liar and claimed my art kitsch
she wasn't wrong
what a *****

— The End —