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Raj Arumugam Sep 2012
you’ve been nice
you’ve heard me sing
and you’ve offered praise
for what you like
(and ignored me for what you don't)
But you mustn’t think
you’ve heard me deep
or you’ve known me now
For it’s always
someone else singing
depending whose voice was last heard
whose blade keenest, whose skills superior
who has fingers extending from the murky past
You’ve been nice
you’ve heard me sing
but you mustn’t let me convince you
no matter how hard I try
it’s me you hear
for I’m just a valley of echoes
(are we not all?)
and a scarecrow over which linger
vultures and such scavengers
never a thought of mine
not an emotion of mine
is the subject of my song
but the words generations have spun
to make myths and radiant lies
that I can sing, and you can acquiesce
I’m just the voice of conditioning
And you too, as you listen and concur
we are but
our conditionings singing
it’s the past singing
it’s not me
it’s not you
though you put a face to it
and we put our names to it
you’ve been nice
you’ve heard me sing
and you’ve offered praise
for what you like
(and ignored me when you don't)
but you mustn’t think
you’ve heard me deep
or you’ve known me now
for it’s always
someone else singing
companion painting: "Concert" by Lorenzo Costa (1460 – March 5, 1535)
Lalin Dec 2015
They gave me a guitar
and asked:
what do you wanna do with it?

I said in ecstasy
I wanna be like that once baby faced old
man a street musician and travel the world
with the perishable fruits in my cap
Oh let these tingly breadcrumbs
pave us a miraculous path
where all folks stand tall and free

Art is Art
happens as is
doesn't need
Are you awake yet
oh my favorite poet?

I can feel your pulse -if I want to
and you may know if you wonder
but it is no wonder
and You be sure You
I identify not by I
and for good
remain so
in the unchanging
purification of my time
you -s
from everywhere

thou art a neutral witness
of such wireframes
embodied by the
of temporal
full of blind
desires so
I fast
on mandarins

it is no punishment
neither a fruitless training
but a method
of eloquent technology
blah blah

something brainy
in short
about our humanity

1-what it means being human
2-what it means to be
3-what it means not to be eligible
to be controlled by nature
as animals
because we are humans

and Not! what it means to be innocent as animals once we are
controlled by nature -because we are not animals

yes and only when you are free
you can play joyfully
with all pronouns
that instrument
called mind
becomes your
blissful tool
for making

I said
broke my

Recycled now
to a new
Thou Art Art
to all
for free
Mateuš Conrad May 2016
may i ask, which pronoun are you searching for, and if in which model, which pronoun-verb in the Cartesian duo function could you ever ask me what pronoun occupies f(∴)? you see, mathematics doesn't sincerely pledge i think with i am, given dues to f(∵), given geometric intersection, both are Gemini, unequivocal, David's abstract.

perpetually open eyes, never acknowledging a blink,
Venetians cascading on Byzantium, near blink near conscience,
but never near an Ottoman consequence;
how ***** into role of Janissary: fear the impaler and all
who reign in his caste disguised... yet you encourage
that they come.... what tailoring of suit
so well disguises the blood? a heavy collar or the lightly
mandated to feel a "conscience"?
i like freaks like him, i too cared to wear many
masks, is that worth a psychiatric evaluation,
you spared me no trust,
your secret dealings could have spared me
my health, what you fear is double-jeopardy,
including a seclusive f.b.i. reclusive supposedly paranoid...
please leave all your badges of officiation to
an affiliated organisation of governance behind
including your firearms, and other scientific
conditionings prejudiced against the church v.
Galileo... please leave dogmatism to students and
anomaly encounters to professionals as stated by
the entitlements of doctorate...
the plot has no identifiers worthy of investigation,
unless everyone was brainwashed into thinking
that goldfish held a greater memory span in a
fish tank than all the people in the world, atmosphered,
and later impregnated by nothing other than
vacuum and astronomical interactions of simple
alphabetical greek into complex chemistry? or
could a world conspiracy come about as simply
the words: she was worth a 1000 Greek ships
worth of **** to later ascribe the capital
of love as Paris? the raw animal is worth more in
his ontological environment than in a zoological one,
cages enliven violence rather than envision them
in either subject or the culprits mind...
it's the added prospect of seclusion that animates
a piquant status of memory to a kindred
fingerprint cloning deviation, a susceptible replication
environment: esp. through no familial motive, other than an
individualistic swarm-like reaction to an insecticide:
however much the individual invigorates a
suspect accommodation to an equilibrated pluralism
within a status ascribed to an: individual.
i admit, the psychological rhetoric is the new
invention of the wheel... it goes on and on forever,
i fear for those hapless idiots studying the logic
of excluding soul (as an absence of thought), god,
and free will to ever return to the rational / sane world
of afternoon tea, given they specialised in these
specified wording to a rubric equatable to 1 + 2 = 3.
you'll learn no more human secrets than that of
a *sloane's viperfish
... otherwise you're entering a realm
of perfected adaptability with some quasi-science
via fiction and conspiracy, that leave you no more than
an agent of the priesthood and a loss of a good
niche of ******... well, is't the priesthood
pathetic so jealous as to have lost the reigns having
kept them for so long? oh yes, the public will react...
regarding the next nutritionist's fact...
it's called adaptability i may say, leave them to it,
you kept to your symbolism for too long,
we learned the crux like we learned to say X
three times ensuring we watched ****...
oh i'm not jealous, i won't be the one having to
orphan the ******* sons, as your church had to keep
them to keep up pretences... all they have to keep
up is the stability of universally recognising a
centimetre, which, like satan said of the kingdoms
to be given, the Orientals sort of ignored with
the grievance demanding an explanation for
the ineffectiveness of thus said temptation.
StarBloom Nov 2018
Its language. Listen.
It’s the dance of our devotion.
Open your emotion.
To honour this temple that houses the spirit of all madness,
wild women, roaring chaos.
As the feminine I release all guilt and shame...
Owning my sexuality. Owning my truth.
And taking back, the body as Mine.

I’m not here to be a pleaser in anyway, how utterly boring.
I take back my power, and I don’t only stand in my power,
but I Stomp the streets of chaos in defeat.. empowered..
i Soar the skies of the infinite eyes... empowered.

By the knowingness that I am free, in my body.

I will not allow, the media, the conditionings that are so stuck in their solidity, without any motion, their consciousness is stagnant and I say **** THAT.

Bring the sacred waters back,
and let the blood of bones wash over you..
as you remember the ancient essence of what is it to be Primitive,
free in the Body.

I’ll dance for you, Naked darling.
I hope you turn the lights on, and see yourself.
In remembrance.  Visible.
Free in the Body.

I hope you Rip off the layers when you get angry or sad,
and let the healing of your body, make you deliciously Mad.
Scream, and remember it’s all a dream.

The sizzling fire within you is the source of illuminating,
this essence so bright will **** all your frights.
Simply burning the layers of illusions,
So you may meet yourself as the fractal of fusions

Take it all off,
And see what you are made of.
Naomi Firestone Mar 2019
I live with a perpetual companion
An unremitting voice in my head
An amensalistic association 
This parasite and I are wed

Not by choice are we inseparable
God knows I've tried to break free
It's constant conditionings of the past 
That binds this enemy to me
A chameleon that drains my color 
Armed with a tongue spitting and sharp 
She dominates my conversations 
From morning till noon till dark
Upon the urge to be true to myself 
To break free from this mimicking mime 
She ridicules, rants and berates me
Until I loose all sense of time 
If I grant the power she incessantly seeks
And obey her exacerbating needs
A suicide of sorts slowly takes place
Leaving an empty reflection of me
If I choose to not give her authority
(Which only infuriates her more) 
And I start to rewire the pathway she's on
No longer will she bang at my door!
But the question that's left remaining 
Will I be okay left on my own?
a companion like she, omitted from me,
Will undoubtedly prove I'm alone.
Mark Wanless Apr 2018
"Sonnets From a Conversation With a Friend XXXI "

I exists after the fact form follows
Function cultural paradigm selfish
Me centric universe causes birthings
Of effect anger hatred depression
Apathy mixed appendages of thought
Once grown manipulated consciously
Or pre-consciously from conditionings
Familial T.V. others self school work
Associations numerous random
Unseen out of the darkness fear more than
A word life bone pillar construct of worlds
Entire here a breath then gone we pass
A steaming moment turn around and look

— The End —