Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
w y n n e Aug 2017
78
perhaps the reason you've been attracting conditional lovers, is because you haven't been uncoditionally loving yourself
mannley collins Jan 2016
Lies are lies
they deny you the truth.
Truth is truth
it denies you the lie.
when examined closely both are exactly the same.
They are interchangeable.
People that tell the "truth" to you are denying you lies.
How boring and dangerous and malevolent are people full of truth.
Choose your religious truth---
Christian truth.
Islamic truth.
Judaic truth.
Vedic Hindoo truth.
Buddist truth.
Capitalist truth.
Socialist truth.
Free market truth.
Managed market truth.
Monarchist truth.
Democratic truth.
Militarist truth.
Liberal truth.
Fascist truth.

People that tell lies to you are denying you truthfulness.
How boring and dangerous and malevolent are people full of lies.
Choose your lies.
Christian lies.
Islamic lies.
Judaic lies.
Vedic Hindoo lies.
Buddist lies.
Capitalist lies.
Socialist lies.
Free market lies.
Managed market lies.
Monarchist lies.
Democratic lies.
Militarist lies.
Liberal lies.
Fascist lies.
Truthfulness is neither truth nor lies.
It exists on its own.
Truthfulness is free of the Duality of Truth and Lies..
The individual Isness exists in the state of Separate and Merged with the Isness of the Universe.
Permanent Mindlessness is unconditional love--just ask any Dog or Cat.
The Mind separates us from the Isness of the Universe.
The Mind creates Duality which is governed by Conditional Love.
The individual Isness creates Unconditional Love(Consciousness) which is outside Duality.
Mind cannot create Unconditional Love.
The individual Isness cannot create Conditional Love.
If you have Mind/Conditioned Identity in your head you cannot love Unconditionally.
If you do not have Mind/Conditioned Identity then you can only love Unconditionally.
If you have Mind and Conditioned Identity  you cannot be Merged with the Isness of the Universe.
If you are Mindless and Conditioned Identityless you are merged with the Isness of the Universe.
Conditional Love says I love you on Condition I can hate you.
Unconditional Love says I will never stop loving you but I may dissapprove of your actions but I will never hate you because I cannot hate..
Conditional Love is selective--it only applies to Family and Friends and fellow GroupMind members.
Unconditional Love is not selective--it applies to every living being--human or otherwise.
Unconditional Love does not see people as Friends and Enemies.
Unconditional Love sees people as individual Isness incarnated in bodies.
Humans are deceived by the Mind into believing that the Conditioned Identity is their true Identity and deceived by the Mind into believing that they should leave the running of their brains and therefore their lives to the Mind.
The individual Isness is a small but equal individual independent,
nameless,formless,genderless,autonomous portion of the Isness of the Universe that people controlled by Mind are taught to call a Soul.
The Soul is just another Mind created Conditioned Identity.
The Atman is just another Mind created Conditioned Identity.
The individual  Isness is formed from a small but equal portion of the essence of the Isness of the Universe and incarnated in a Human Body of either Gender-_male or female of any skin colour.



www.beyondenlightenment.co.uk
Nat Lipstadt Sep 2013
How I Observed the Day of Atonement

If you are unfamiliar with day and its observance,
See http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yom_Kippur

In a place of perfect solitude,
No crowded synagogue within to hide,
No cantor to intercede on my behalf,
I spoke words of mine own creation
To my creator who wisely empowers me
To judge myself, for knowing, none harsher,

We two,
Old travel companions,
Upon worn grayed, adirondacke thrones,
We overlooked,
A natural prayer place,
Bay and breeze, white-clouded and sun-laced.
Only the full time inhabitants, the animals,
Grayling butterflies to match and contrast,
Eavesdropping on our Greek dialogos, in this,
Palace of Perfect Solitude.

Amiable did we chat,
I of family, this and that.

He, wearied from recent travel,
To Syria and India,
Was glad for a day off,
For he had little to do,
But wait for twilight,
To then close the books.

For us no formality, easy the going,
No prosecutor no defender in residence,
For we exchange these roles intermittently,
The incriminatory, the penance, all deeds displayed,
No adult games of winking eyes, and
Hidden heart, secret chambers,
Rabbinical or angelic intercession.

He does so love his Bach,
Adagio on strings,
My soothing gift to him,
This music more than divine.

He returned this courtesy.

Warming sun to expose my chest,
Cooling genteel breeze offsetting,
The bay emptied of wayfaring skiffs and yachts.

A cooling beverage proffered,
But sighing, he said that he had yet to find
A beverage that his kind of thirst could slake.
For his eyes, tho shining, did not effervesce,
As when we shared this day in years past.

Too much killing, this year,
It tires me so to tabulate human excess,
Spoke not a word, for my critique would
Comfort him less, if at all.

Thanks for Kol Nidre, he plainted,
So I too can disavow,
The best intended oaths I took and take,
For each year, I fail more than the year before.

If only I could sit with each,
As I do with you,
Where what needs saying,
Is said, understood, undisguised as praying.

A schooner to the dock did appear,
For him it attended, for him, it waited,
Sails, both black and white.

He stood to depart, my arms-grasped, taken, he graphing,
Measuring my fortitude, my strengths, my divinity.

I do so love this day in your company.
I shall sit with you again one year on,
Bach sweet when next we meet, please.

Soft spoke, as almost I should not hear,
Your time is nigh, no thing I create is forever.
He spoke with such sadness,
For well I knew, the intent, his meaning.

He, for-himself, saddened, for he loved
Sitting  beside me in this manner,
Since my inception, never deception,

Only He resting easy, when he atoned before me,
And I gave him his absolution conditional,
As he gave me,
mine
September  2013
Deepali May 20
From delivering self through and out
Till filling the moment with joy i found
Its the situation that brings forward the talk
Not presenting the love from heart
Its the mind which plays with heart
Conditional emotion all I got !!!
You got emotion only when you have condition for it.
shatteredpoet Apr 13
you were my father
and i was your daughter
until i told you i fell in love
with her
until i told you i despised
the meanings of gender
until i told you i was not
a replica of you
until i blurred that picture perfect
image of the person
you wished me to be
you promised to love
me without conditions
until you realized the
only thing you could do
was love me with conditions
Nat Lipstadt Aug 2018
disclaimer: unedited rambling and overly long and frankly, Scarlet, don't give a **** anymore...

Thus spake and quested
another, younger poet to me,
a far better one than I,
but obligations thus provided,
are serious business,
to those who understand
poetic responsibilities, and
under his own Rules of Order,
an answer,
though long in coming, AR,
must be provided.

Well well well
all is not well,
the faucets offers choices....
chrome hot
chrome cold

there is no such thing as
lukewarm truth in
clear waters that
run run,
yet never
run stilled,
birthed at turned-on conception,
to drain death removal,
another daily poetic miracle,
unappreciated by most,
overly consumed by their
own passage on this Earth

peddler wayfarer,
passing through with truth
poem pots and rattling pans
(nowadays, mostly panned),
a historic factoid,
and not what Amazon delivers...
truth is a genetically modified
bitcoin currency, misunderstood,
prone to sometimes useful,
but never ever, to stick or stain,
for I got excuses and who gives a ****,
yesterday is forgotten instantly

The coldest truths,
the confirmation of same
by mirrored image text sent,
(immediacy a necessity,
for though poor, it is 'real')
the twitter that methodically
A-lists your major crimes
B-lists your petty,
hope-you-didn't miss my
exposé of latest misdemeanors

the hot truths,
only whispered,
merely mint hinted
in a hot cuppa,
the heat itself
a cover up,
for what you do not
wish me to plainly speak
or plainly sell,
is accursed truths,
won't sell, even if free

Can't write about moon and June,
alabaster is a fine word,
but white suits me fine,
don't know the diff
tween dragon flys and lullabies

The way I write is
just the way I think, believe,
from my eyes to paper
there is no misdirection,
just silent labor conception

Poor poor real truth
is out of favor these days,
because there is nothing
no one won't cease or hesitate
to expose himself,
flaunt the anguish,
copy other's jive,
but that is real,
but it is not truth

Had a bad day,
You need to know about it
Right away!

Though I meander and excuse,
there is one state of truth,
I need yet to annotate

Too oft when tapped turned on,
it is rusty water and rusted truths
expelled and this, my stuff, my days,
not in vogue, or a top seller

I love the color rust,
overused in my poems,
but compulsion is not a
conditional, but a must

This then is the form
they spill in these,
my final days here

You might think that rust implies
lack of use,
a non-caring
for his voice,
his well practiced instrument

Au contrarie, amigo!

My rust is from overuse,
my eyes don't see
what the popular want nor
could I provide it
even if
it was demanded,
which it is not....

Rusted but unvarnished,
undisguised by fancy words
or silent cries, what you read
is what you get
until I find
a more "authentic" voice,
one that satisfies the world
not just me...he sneers....

Feel for me in the summer breeze,
from whence my best stuff
has always been plucked
sent on its way, to you,
in self-same wind,
to kiss your cheeks,
slap you alert

I used to write
on both feet
upstanding,
then Hillel was asked for
the whole truth
while standing
on just one leg

His reply:
"Love they neighbor as you love thyself"

So I switched
and now compose,
in quiet ignorance,
a wrong footed poet,
left only with his what's left,
and to put his left foot truths
first, forward and foremost,
is what he got, and
what I got, you'll get....

But a cautionary note,
drinking riposte rustys,
bad for the body,
but kindly
for your mental
wealth,
if your have the
only other element
most needed,
in your pocket posses,

courage
Rambling, unedited, and yet fresh so off to the presses..and at 4:21am,
I frankly, Scarlet, don't give a **** anymore...
Lost Soul Nov 2018
Our relationship was strong
many things happened this year
I dont know quite
where it all went wrong
I try to connect with you
but you cut me done
Make it all about you
You say I'm making something out of nothing
but that impossible you can only make a something out of other somethings .....
You are my something
I built my life around you
If you liked it,I liked it
if you hated it,I hated it too
But I guess it doesnt matter
The only conversations we have now
is if i lost weight or am fatter
Your love is conditional
i just want to be myself
even if its not traditional
When did you stop loving me for me ?
I gave my life you to
I thought living for you was my destiny
You say I'm selfish
but im alway hiding my feelings, crys and desires from you
To be a good daughter was my only wish
Now I just crave acceptance
I cant live in your shadow
Im done...
Ive served my 18 year sentence
Nat Lipstadt Apr 2014
Thus spake and quested
another, younger poet to me,
a far better one than I,
but obligations thus provided,
are serious business,
to those who understand
poetic responsibilities, and
under his own Rules of Order,
an answer,
though long in coming, AR,
must be provided.*

Well well well
all is not well,
the faucets offers choices....
chrome hot
chrome cold

there is no such thing as
lukewarm truth in
clear waters that
run run,
yet never
run stilled,
birthed at turned-on conception,
to drain death removal,
another daily poetic miracle,
unappreciated by most,
overly consumed by their
own passage on this Earth

peddler wayfarer,
passing through with truth
poem pots and rattling pans
(nowadays, mostly panned),
a historic factoid,
and not what Amazon delivers...
truth is a genetically modified
bitcoin currency, misunderstood,
prone to sometimes useful,
but never ever, to stick or stain,
for I got excuses and who gives a ****,
yesterday is forgotten instantly

The coldest truths,
the confirmation of same
by mirrored image text sent,
(immediacy a necessity,
for though poor, it is 'real')
the twitter that methodically
A-lists your major crimes
B-lists your petty,
hope-you-didn't miss my
exposé of latest misdemeanors

the hot truths,
only whispered,
merely mint hinted
in a hot cuppa,
the heat itself
a cover up,
for what you do not
wish me to plainly speak
or plainly sell,
is accursed truths,
won't sell, even if free

Can't write about moon and June,
alabaster is a fine word,
but white suits me fine,
don't know the diff
tween dragon flys and lullabies

The way I write is
just the way I think, believe,
from my eyes to paper
there is no misdirection,
just silent labor conception

Poor poor real truth
is out of favor these days,
because there is nothing
no one won't cease or hesitate
to expose himself,
flaunt the anguish,
copy other's jive,
but that is real,
but it is not truth

Had a bad day,
You need to know about it
Right away!

Though I meander and excuse,
there is one state of truth,
I need yet to annotate

Too oft when tapped turned on,
it is rusty water and rusted truths
expelled and this, my stuff, my days,
not in vogue, or a top seller

I love the color rust,
overused in my poems,
but compulsion is not a
conditional, but a must

This then is the form
they spill in these,
my final days here

You might think that rust implies
lack of use,
a non-caring
for his voice,
his well practiced instrument

Au contrarie, amigo!

My rust is from overuse,
my eyes don't see
what the popular want nor
could I provide it
even if
it was demanded,
which it is not....

Rusted but unvarnished,
undisguised by fancy words
or silent cries, what you read
is what you get
until I find
a more "authentic" voice,
one that satisfies the world
not just me...he sneers....

Feel for me in the summer breeze,
from whence my best stuff
has always been plucked
sent on its way, to you,
in self-same wind,
to kiss your cheeks,
slap you alert

I used to write
on both feet
upstanding,
then Hillel was asked for
the whole truth
while standing
on just one leg

His reply:
"Love they neighbor as you love thyself"*

So I switched
and now compose,
in quiet ignorance,
a wrong footed poet,
left only with his what's left,
and to put his left foot truths
first, forward and foremost,
is what he got, and
what I got, you'll get....

But a cautionary note,
drinking riposte rustys,
bad for the body,
but kindly
for your mental
wealth,
if your have the
only other element
most needed,
in your pocket posses,

courage
Rambling, unedited, and yet fresh so off to the presses..and at 4:21am,
I frankly, Scarlet, don't give a **** anymore...
Luna Craft Oct 2018
Procrastination,
a devilish friend who laughs with me in the early morning hours,
reminding me of things I have yet to do.
Ask her my name and she will sing a song of a decades march
Ask her my story and a third person will emerge from the outside
Another me, ask it if it can find its way home
I'm tired, I have so much to do
Self hatred can only erupt,
There is another me that loves myself.

It asks to be my only friend.
It responds only to bitter tongue;
Just like it was taught.

Ask me if I'm tired and I will always respond yes,
it's only conditional
Ask me if I'm sick and I'll tell you how much I think
analogies about shoving pens in my eye sockets

I am a self-hating narcissist.
I believe I need no help, yet find obscure ways to punish myself when I can't do it alone

And the other me knows I'm a liar, and it ******* loves it.
It loves the drama, it lives off of it
Let's it define a meaning
Without it I am nothing.

I am so tired of feeling emotions that hinge on the fact that I spend most of my time numb.
Eno Feb 24
When there is no solid ground
Just combination
When love is abound
Always conditional
When emotion is potent
Beyond reach
When sleep beckons
Nightmare days
When life carries on
Just suffocate -
-
-
When the next day
Never arrives
When pain and fear and shame and distrust and betrayal and dissapointment and disgust for yourself sit like a ball of cat hair stirring in your abdomen.
You’re lying here
And wish you could be anywhere else
Alone
And
Content
Away from destructive characters
Torn right out of a novel where
The genre is
A Psychological thriller
Carmelina Feb 15
Today you are loved.
Tomorrow will be a question.
Furthermore, where was this relationship destined?

Is okay to hold your hand.
Intwine my fingers.
Act as if I don’t feel your wedding band.

In this moment you are mine
But only for an hour or two
You must run off, act straight
But if only he really knew.

You love me more than just a friend
You can pretend not to be ***
But you know what to do.
As if it’s nothing new.

This bond that we both share
Has you questioning yourself.
Beware my love is irresistible
To much time with me
Starts to be conditional.


It’s not to late.

I know the pace

to every second

when your hearts

starts to race.

To be in love
is not a mistake.

But to hide
who you really are
is a risk.
Is that something You are willing to take?
Stephanie Oct 2018
But what happened
I repeat
to the feeling of
loss
that eats at me now

In this little foreign town I sit
by accident
across from a hotel
where we once stayed

And my heart strings
strike a chord
with unbearable tension

It was so good
wasn't it?
And then I remember
I couldn't be your lover
I was only part way there
most of the time

I fantasized
about not being yours
the freedoms of aloneness
a breath without your scent

How many years I spent
wishing
to have what sits before me
These broken strings
This broken heart
The greatest broken promise

I recall a moment
when the woman
with the great jazz voice
asked me
if I loved him
and I couldn't answer
Even though I know
in some fractured universe
an unshaking love
existed

How many nights
I was tortured
with the shame of knowing
that the love you needed most
was conditional

And for how many years
you sat
in suffocating silence
knowing that to be true
and sacrificing your soul
that it wouldn't be so

In my attempt to shield you
from the pain
I harmed you beyond belief
And now we are
left
with no other choice
but to say goodbye
to the life we had together

In the end
I guess
I just miss my friend
Empire Apr 18
People don’t choose to love me
Love for me is conditional
On smiles and pleasantries
On good behavior
On success and pride
So, why would I want to smile?
It doesn’t bring joy
It doesn’t make me feel alive
But I know how to hurt
So I suppose that’ll have to do
Maybe it’s not true, but sometimes I feel it.
Arke May 7
You've found those in love with the idea of you
Who see your youth as supposed beauty, the way
Anyone would agree the shore and waves of an ocean
And the sparkling water, like diamonds on the surface
Is beauty itself captured, without seeing the depths --
The muddy ocean floor and vines and tentacles

You've found those who say they love you
Who talk about you like perfection encapsulated
Their dream girl who will surely save them
Kind, compassionate and caring, you love with open arms
There to hold them, cook, clean, support and keep them safe
But your love only heals like a bandaid over an amputation

You've seen love that is exchanged for goods and services
Conditional love that relies on your ambition and ability
Love that is picked up briefly and put down suddenly
Thrice you have even found something resembling absolute love
At a bad time, with the wrong person, in a broken place
And it's never yours to keep and it never remains

So you teeter along this edge where everyone's love
Depends on what you do for them or who you aren't
Slowly but surely you find a way to accept that maybe
No one has ever really, truly, possibly, loved you.
Maybe they can't.
Maybe you are unlovable.

Or maybe love itself is impossible -
An idea created and packaged by capitalism
To sell media and cosmetics and insecurity
You find a way to make peace with the idea of a world
Devoid of unconditional or true love
Where the constance of love and loss are tied

One cannot seem to exist without the other because love itself
Does not exist without barriers or stipulations
The happily ever afters are a likely delusion
One that has poisoned your mind for too long
Love is always conditional, selfish, and possessive
Everyone loved, leaves because love cannot stretch to infinity
Movies and music and literature have lied to us

At some point you learn to give up on others, because it's easier
You learn to stop loving anyone else, either
Because one sided affection is emotionally draining
Giving 100% to anyone but yourself, impossible
And in that moment maybe
You find a way to love yourself like no one else can
Because that's the only thing you have left in this world
While you make peace with the idea
That you, too, will someday leave
robin May 17
conditional love
leaves a sour taste on your tongue
when you were raised on candy
it comes as a surprise
but not everyone’s like you your mother will say
It’s hard excepting that some people will only love you based on what you give them.
Stíofáinín Apr 20
Take it all away again and don’t stop breathing
Who knew I could take all these beatings
I'm alive,
Only to decline an invitation to live in this situation
Where love is only conditional
I grow invisible
I can’t manifest and I can’t disappear
I just sit and wonder what the **** I’m doing here
You don’t need me, and that’s why you can’t see me
I'm fading but you’re see through
And this is just another hole I fell into
A pipe dream that that could never be true
Still, all I ever wanted was you
And one last time could never be enough
A million times I could tell myself it wasn’t love
But my mind is cursed…
Dissecting a situation
Trying to quiet the imagination
But you're too careless, and we’re just unkind
Only ever taping up these holes and leaving it all behind
You’re mind, a black hole ******* all that matters right from my chest,
You’re lies are like stains on my only white dress
Lies that live easy cause the truths no fun
Another round of bullets babe! Can you just hold this gun?
What good will it do now though? We're already alone
Somehow I always knew one day you’d leave home
Sin will go unconfessed
Mistakes, locked away in an iron chest
How were we supposed to ever confess
If you can’t see it then it's not real
But when was that ever part of the deal?
These are just metaphors, but here’s the feel bad,
Babe
These are your scars and your bags, and they’ll always be packed
So put on your little rouge act
But this is nothing but a comfort zone and it's all you can ever call your own
That’s all you can hope to know
And if you continue running it’ll be too late
A cycle in repeat that only ever ends in hate
Pushing everything aside
Beautiful creature, you never learned how not to hide
Time won't ever be on your side…
But these choices will be all your own, to own
So make a conscious one that we can condone
N Oct 2018
Remember when you told me you loved me and that without me you had nothing?
Well now it looks like you have nothing but a crippling sense of self-importance and a surprising lack of guilt.

Remember when you asked me to give up my future; almost all my money, my plans, my friends, all for you. You demanded it. Threatened to lock me in your room to keep me from leaving.

Remember when I would say no to something you would make me feel like the worst person on earth? As if I had personally attacked you; that I should beg for your forgiveness, for your love. Your love was conditional: do what I say, give me what I want and I will show you affection. But what I gave you was unconditional, regardless of day, or night, or every text you responded to with “k”.

Remember when you would feel bad and make me feel bad too? All those cold nights sat on cold benches with you being cold towards me. I set myself on fire to keep you mildly warm. You just watched and asked me to do more for you.

Remember every second day you mentioned the word ‘Canada’ and said how much I had hurt you by following my dreams?

Remember when you said you didn’t want to see one of my closest friends again? Or that you didn’t like my parents who welcomed you into our home with open arms and warm smiles.

Remember when you told me being *** was a sin? That I’m going to hell?

Remember when I helped you write those ******* assignments?

What did you do for me?

I remember everything I did for you; all those lies and excuses I told to my friends, my family, myself just so I could make you happy. And what did you want? More.

More ***, more time, more company, more  affection, more help, more reassurance, more ******* therapy from me.

You took all my energy, my patience, my love and what happened? You wanted more.

You see at the end of the day you didn’t love me, you loved the way I made you feel. I treated you like a god. You treated me like a *** toy, a counsellor, an emotional punching bag.  

I see you writing things now, making yourself out to be the victim of some cruel liar who betrayed your trust. I broke your heart once. You broke mine a hundred times and would have done it a hundred times more just to get what you wanted.

Life isn’t fair. Maybe you don’t deserve to feel how you do now but I didn’t deserve to go through what you put me through. Grow the **** up.

I hope you see what you did. I really don’t think you’ll ever understand.

I only see now because I have met someone who is everything you are not; loving, kind, supportive, a gentleman. I know what real love feels like now, not just the idea of it. It feels nothing like what you gave me.

You did so much damage to my self esteem. You made me feel like I had done some unimaginable horror by living my own life. But now I’m better. I realise you don’t deserve to breathe the same ******* air as me. Choke.

Move the **** on.

All you’ve got now is memories, but not true ones. Maybe I lied to you but at least I’m not lying to myself.
It’s Scorpio season so here’s to my real friends and here’s to my baby **
Contempthy Aug 2018
I am the darkness,
A  candle that is barely flickering,
Yet that flickering flame accompanied by the passing of lost souls ignites just enough light within to see the **** within,
No amount of makeup can fix the scars on my face,
And that **** scale,
Is the Great Depression where all value has been lost,
I like white powder and white pills they make my toxic crimson bones a fuller shade of pink,
A pink cloud,
To float in nothingness that’s where my soul belongs
I want to shrink my body to a nothingness,
If god is love then that means I was not created into his image,
For I have never felt love with out a pericing pang in my heart,
Love is conditional,
So is god?
Nothingness though is beautiful,
But I am rotting flesh and bone with a short skirt and high heals on his bedroom floor,
He craves my destroyed body but has not time to listen to my soul,
Can you kick me out now I would like to go,
Go into the vast darkness that I am
The vastness of nothingness is my only remedy for pain of lost worth and dead souls
Sharon Dec 2018
A girl meets a boy they hang out and discover the ins and outs of one another realize that they couldn't be happier until one day boy meets another girl and there seems to go their conditional love.. the girls heartbroken she did everything she could do to get her love back...
And the one question the boy asks the girl why do you hate me so much when all the girl ever wanted to do was love him.. the girl is lonely can't move on... The girl needs to release the boy from her heart... Oh but how?? So heartbroken
Charlie Wonder Aug 2018
Every time I really want something it's conditional
I am either happy or confused
Neither guilty nor ashamed
I just want to love her with all my heart
But we can't seem to make it past this minor bump
So I wait for my mind to be conflicted between pain and pleasure

— The End —