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Cné Aug 2017
Fragmented lives entangled
but asunder in our journey
as our paths cosmically connect
in a romance of the arts

And who's to say what's real
to touch or deeply feel
what will truly last
or simply where to start

So I’ll
paint you alla prima
as I feel you playing me
in warm colors of merging ardor
a wet blending of artistry
my brush strokes of your body
painted in my mind
of impressions blushed in passion
in hues I can’t describe

Suspended in the moment
floating on a breeze
I revel in this picture painted music
almost in disbelief, unthinking…
knowing every nuance of our love
found only in our dreams

Like children in parallel play
I’ll finger the keys
and slip the locks
of all your orchestrations
filling the walls
of my concerts halls
with deep
splattered tones
in pinks and blues
the hues
that forever
bind us

And we’ll not look back
nor forward
but hang here in the moment
to display our
Painted Song
in the eyes
of giggly children
both doing
our own thing
together
on a string
curated
A collaboration with Howard Hilde
https://hellopoetry.com/u693528/
Jack Singer Oct 2011
If you ever feel uninspired,
insignificant, meaningless,
or small…
just remember this:
you,
are cosmically awesome.

when you step out
into a silky night
of shimmering moonlight
beneath an array
of glittering stars,
a billion glowing orbs
a billion lightyears in the future
are waiting patiently
to look at you.

think about this:
nobody ever
has perceived existence
the exact same way
as you.
nobody ever
has had your same
thoughts.

don't you see it?
only you
have the power
to do what nobody else
ever has.

the gods shout your name
with every breath of wind.
listen to them,
look deep inside yourself,
and realize
that you
are
amazing.



-Jack Singer
mel Aug 2018
all is occurring
to help guide you on your way
as you journey through your path
toward your dream life estates
it won’t always look just like
you had pictured it at first
but the harder that it gets
the more you’re cosmically-versed
just know this moment’s perfect
every fall will become worth it
the Universe can hear your Love
it’s guiding you from up above
so please just trust in the Divine
knowing that you’re right on time
even when darkness pays a visit
it brings so many lessons with it
leaving you much more aligned
with iridescent Light to shine
We open our minds to expand to the times not to pretend there is some end to confine the limits of prime; we defend to remind to dance to the trance we redefine to enhance not to surrender to chance.

We open our hearts to embrace the new space-time transparency, interdimensional race as we become united and one, open to truth we exhibit ourselves as one infinite youth, gifted and new, eternally pure evolved to endure no end to potential, perfect and cured.

We strengthen our bodies and build on each other we love ourselves and love one another we grow and mature and extend to our neighbors but as we think deeper our expansion is greater our planet is one and our galaxy peace to the opening worlds we bring wisdom and ease we do not enslave or deny or deceive but we share our pure knowledge our light and belief.

We raise up our souls beyond science and physics to evolve beyond consciousness confinements and limits our imperial nature shifts to emerge from the boundaries of body and smallness of Earth we expand our perception to include all dimensions from previous eons to future inceptions.

We shift our new world from finite to light, universal, infinite, natural, bright we embrace the day and welcome the night to work with each other to be perfect, upright, to evolve our new planet, our galactic mindframe to expand from micro to cosmically aimed to unlock the portals to open our brains to evolve from old gears to interdimensional spheres uniting creation without hesitation pure as clean water and deep meditation.

-Ryan Christopher Brandes
god is the devil and the devil is bob

god is the devil and the devil is bob

god is the devil and the devil is bob

GOD THE DEVIL AND BOB

today, bob was trying to help 3 people who looks up and around

and the first man tom’s case, it was the fascination with neon lights

this made his head spin around and around, and it wasn’t the usual

headspinning that every adult faces from time to time, it was psychotic

this really bugged tom, and bob said, could this be god annoying you

and tom said, dunno mate and went away singing

god is the devil and the devil is the force moving my head cosmically

god is the devil and the devil is the force moving my head cosmically

god is the devil and the devil is the force moving my head cosmically

GOD THE DEVIL AND BOB WHO IS THE FORCE

The 2nd bloke was harry and when he looked up, it was more weird than tom’s

you see he would look up at the sky saying, take me now, almighty GOD

and bob said have you thought about being positive rather than talking about death

and harry said, shut up, life isn’t working for me, how i would hope, so shut up

if you tell me to live my fucken life, I CAN’T STAND YA

and harry went away singing

god is the devil and death sounds nice

god is the devil and death sounds nice

god is the devil and death sounds nice

GOD THE DEVIL AND THE MIGHTY DEATH TONES

and our final bloke was brian, who was told, he has a looking up disorder, which was so queer

he could have a brain tumor, and brian’s mate suggested that brian goes to have a brainscan

to see if there is any abnormalities in his brain , which could be causing the look ups

and like tom, it was a fascination with neon signs, brian wanted a medication to get rid of the look ups

so he can PARTY, and get rid of this crazy person lookup disorder and bob said it could be the buddhist

god (buddha)or it could be athena working on brian’s brain, it could be the dreaded force, where you are forced

to show abnormalities in the brain, brian went away saying perhaps that is true, and sang

god is the devil and the devil is the look ups

god is the devil and the devil is the look ups

god is the devil and the devil is the look ups

god the devil, and bob,

the almighty bob delahunty
I WANT TO TEASE YOU, TEASE YOU I SHALL, YOU ARE SPASTIC, DUDE I HATE YA

HANG ON, YOUR NOT LIKE YOUR NANNA, LET’S TEASE THIS SHYPERSON, BUDDY

HE IS FALLING ASLEEP, TEASE THIS SHY PERSON

I SAID, I WILL FALL ASLEEP, YA SEE, I WILL FALL ASLEEP, AND ALLOW YOU TO TEASE ME WITH THE COSMOS

YOU SEE, LET’S TIE THE SHYPERSON UP, AND THROW HIM TO THE ALIENS’

YEAH, I AM HAVING FUN TEASING BRIAN ALLAN DEAR CHILD

YOU SEE, I CAN SEE THE MEDICATION MAKING YA TIRED

YOU SEE, ATHENA CAME UP AND PUT METHANE IN MY MOUTH AND TOLD THIS DWEEB THAT

YOU REALLY CAN FIX YA TEETH IN THE COSMOS, IF YA TAKE THE RIGHT MEDICATION

I SAID, I AM WATCHING SOME SNACK OFF COOKING SHOW, IT’S PRETTY RADICAL

IT’S ABOUT THE LATE NIGHT SNACKS PEOPLE HAVE, AND WHO CAN MAKE THE BEST MEAL

THE TEASER SAID, TRY AND BE LIKE YOUR NANNA, CAUSE YOUR NOT LIKE YA NANNA

YA LIKE US, CAUSE YA HOUSE IS MESSY, I AM SURE OF IT

BRIAN ALLAN SAID, CAN YOU LET ME GO, AS HE WAS ******* IN THE NEPTUNE PUB

BY OSAMA BIN LADEN AND THE GUY WHO NICKED HIS LINCH IN THE 1970S

IT’S THE ONLY WAY TO GET HIM, REALLY, WELL, IT’S NOT, BUT NOBODY WANTS TO, YA KNOW DO HARM

YA SEE BRIAN JUMPED UP AND SAID, *******, YA NOT GETTING ME, YA ****

AND THEN THE GUY WHO NICKED MY LUNCH SAID, NO BUDDY, YOU ARE WITH ME FOREVER

WE’LL MAKE YOU TIRED, AND THEN SEND YOU TO HELL, WHICH IS THE SUN

BUT EVERYONE SLEEPS THEIR WAY TO FIGHT THE PERSON WHO IS KILLING BRIAN WHERE THEY WANT HIM

YOU SEE THEN SLIM DUSTY SAID I GUESS IT’S LONESOME AWAY FROM YOUR KINDRED AND ALL

FROM THE DUSTY OUTBACK TO THE GREAT CONCERT HALL,THERE IS NOTHING QUITE LIKE A DRINK WHICH

IS MORBID OR DREAR, IT’S SITTING PLAYING POOL IN A PUB WITH NO BEER

I AM GOING BACK AGAIN TO NEPTUNE PUB, YEAH, NEPTUNE PUB, YEAH WHERE WE HAVE FUN, YEAH

WE’RE GOING BACK AGAIN TO NEPTUNE PUB, THE PLACE WITH THE MOST METHANE SMOOTHIES, YEAH

I WOULD LOVE TO HAVE A BEER WITH BRIAN, I WOULD LOVE TO DRINK BEER WITH HIM

WE DRINK IN MODERATION, DUDES, AND NEVER, NO NEVER, GET ROLLING DRUNK

WE DRINK ALL OVER THE COSMOS, WHERE THE ATMOSPHERE IS SUPERB

I WOULD LOVE TO HAVE A BEER WITH BRIAN, CAUSE THAT’S FAR FROM ABSURD

AND THEN BARRY ALLAN CAME UP AND SANG 1 2 3 4 YOU SCHITZOPHRENIC, FROM YA FIRST DIAGNOSIS TO YA CURRENT SITUATION

WITH MEDICATION, YOU CAN GET REFORMED, OH YEAH MATE YEAH YOUR SCHITZOPHRENIC

DAD SAID, I AM NOT GOING YOUR LIKE ME AND MUMMY, ANYMORE, DON’T BE SHY BRIAN, TEASE MY NEXT LIFE’S NAME

I CAN UNDERSTAND WHY YOU TEASE, ME, BUT DON’T FORGET THAT GIRLS AND BOYS ARE EQUAL, OK

THEN THE GUY THAT NICKED MY LUNCH SAID, OK, WE’LL LEAVE YA ALONE, YA NOT LIKE US, BUDDY, OK

JUST REMEMBER, ME, IF YA EVER TRY TO BE LIKE US, YOU WHEN YA LIVED IN WOODBERRY, I’LL TEASE YA AGAIN, OK
Life is the treasure and knowledge is the fire to kindle and wisdom the outcome to distill it

Poverty is taking away food from a fellow human being
Poverty is not being grateful that you have slept having eaten a comfortable meal
Poverty is going out there with a poor self image and using the presence of others to mask your inadequacy
Poverty is not knowing how divine you are, your soul content

Poverty as a woman is not being able to say how you feel and what you feel because you are afraid of rejection or disappointment
Poverty is trying to make a guy feel insecure because you yourself are insecure
Poverty is trying to have multiple ****** relations to either draw a man or men towards you or simply for the sake of trying to fuel your self esteem
Poverty is dreaming and letting the birds talk about it as a could have been
Poverty is stabbing a person you love dearly in the back
Poverty is blaming society, culture and circumstances at home for not progressing forward
Poverty is killing because you are stuck in unorderly primitive and unruly state and you do not know tranquility

Poverty is wanting things to remain the same because it protects you from growth and the awe of advancement
Poverty is living in the past and endlessly trying to change the present
Poverty is not knowing what to say because you have forgotten how to compose yourself in the presence of others
Poverty is thinking for short term satisfaction breeding inevitable lack of long term contentedness

Wealth is inviting the future fearlessly
Wealth is loving abundantly
Wealth is joining the heart's dance by yielding to emotions of pure positive vibrations
Wealth is making the heart intelligent so your desires are not  of a marginal durability
Wealth is seeking the truth because it will wash away the lies and test your bravery as it opens up the wounds and the pain of reality
Wealth is knowing that in giving a lot and asking less more than half the time; you remain abundant
  Wealth is imagining what a future 'you' would be like and in pursuit you strive to make your future self proud
Wealth is having an open mind and seeking first to understand than to be understood
Wealth is trying to find better solutions for either parties, a higher way; which healthily benefits either parties

Wealth is having someone who will support you no matter what
Wealth is sticking to divine principles because they will stand no matter what
Wealth is treating another better than you treat yourself and in essence you treat yourself as the greatest being
Wealth is being patient and persevering for good things because you will honour them as you understand what it took to earn them
Wealth is making a promise and keeping it, it boosts the progress of the whole Universe; even the promises we make to ourselves
Wealth is cleaning up after ourselves and engineering our personhood to not rely on insubstantial and baseless objectives and mantras
Wealth is taking a stand for one's own life and not waiting for a hero to pull up the yardstick
Wealth is going to the dam with a  broken rod and teaching yourself how to fish until a master comes and philosophises your decorum, approach, conduct and credo on the whole process of being independent and going out into the world,
Wealth is unlearning all of the miseducation that we have been fed since the day we were born and relearning and rewiring our psyche to be conscious and cosmically aligned with our divine purposes and use the resources around us to make the raw a tangible gem and vice versa.

Say no to poverty.
Live a sincere life of truth and meaning, we only have so much time to pay off our debts until we're rich enough to give back to the world again.
Logos matters not
in matters of Mythos:

For instance, some stuff about my birthday

My number is Twenty-Two.
Writ as two twos, 2(11), 2(5+6), 5(2)+4(3).
Of the 30 days of my birth month,
22/30 = 11/15 ≈ 0.7333 ad infinitum.

My month is Four.
2 to the second power,
defining a square;
the third positive square number.

My numerically symmetrical year,
which is evenly divisible by neither two nor three,
sums to 20 and multiplies to 81.
(1+9+9+1); (1)(9)(9)(1)
20=4(5); 81=9(9), 3(27)
Or, bisect the written year and add the sides within themselves
(1+9)(9+1)=(10)(10)=100.
Then, you can even add the three interpretations of the year:
81+20+100=201
201/3=67

I digress;

My sign is Taurus and thus my element is Earth.
Taurus is the second of twelve signs in western astrology.
In terms of Music,
I am an ascending minor Second above Ares,
one step up;
Scorpio is my Tritone
six steps up,
and Sagittarius is my perfect Fifth
seven steps,
where Leo is my minor Third, Virgo is major,
three and four steps up, respectively.
Pisces is my minor Seventh
at ten steps up or two down,
I have many Pisces in my life.
Bluesy.

As a Taurean,

My day is Venus,
my night is Moon, whereas
Mars can bring chaos.

This coming Monday,
I am to turn Twenty-Two;
on the day of Moon.

I am a Metal Goat by the Chinese Zodiac,
with Yin, the season of late-summer, and the element Fire.
The 8th sign; 2 cubed.
|-|-|--|-|--|--|-|--|-|-|
I do not feel that these things
predetermine anything in me or my life
but I do believe that these things
hold a certain power,
a sort of resonance
with me
and that is inspirational
and that is worth living for.

If one is keen enough to Mythos
then one can make anything relevant,
and one can draw a subjective lesson;
a sort of personal interpretation,
conducive and pertinent to one's self.

These things are not arbitrary;
they are a sort of time-stamp for life;
a frame of reference,
a milestone marker upon the path.

Of course, when I said "are"
I truly intended "could be seen as",
and from there "hardly ever to be taken literally";
Literal interpretations dwell within the realm of Logos:
(One can only describe so much, the rest is up to interpretation!)
--
Logos enters not
in matters of the Mythic,
yet they copulate.

Mythos is a realm
wholly separate from Logos
yet they interplay,

This dynamic play
in a mythicly tuned mind;
akin to wisdom.

Mythos and Logos
dancing cosmically onward
as if Yin and Yang.

To shun one and cling
zealously to the other
is tantamount to

fearing Death until
the day it's icy finger
points itself at you:

You miss out on all
the wondrous things in this life;
Enjoy here and now.
-
If you seek clarification on my definitions,
I shall be compiling a dictionary of my own conno- and denotations, with examples in context.

In the meantime and forever more, fear not to ask :D

Being born on April 22, I have the lingering trace of Aries; fire.
Yhama ButterFly Apr 2014


No desire for words spoken

we sail on the wind

the energy surrounding us

takes perfect dictation

nothing misunderstood

cosmically we sync

we finish sentences spoken

astrologically

we fit by design

forever equals us

without a moments notice

eternity sealed our fate

the first time we exchanged looks

from across the way

*


~Butterfly εїз ©
Anne Apr 2021
You were already dead
by the time
I was planted in your soil.
Your story is one told to me
through grainy photographs.
Echoed whispers of
peripheral port cities.
Somewhere lovingly untouchable.
My home was once alive.

My stomach lurches
while picturing these
hollow streets,
once filled with laughter.
The harbour
bursting with smiles.
Each neighbour,
a family or friend,
usually both.

How I love this island!
The salted summer's breeze,
hand woven scarlet autumns.
Wild flowers dancing
atop cliff-sides,
free for us
to admire and absorb.
Absorb we did.

I swear my bones
are made of sea-glass.
How could they be
made of anything less?

In their stories,
you are a fairyland.
A cosmically unified olden wood,
dipped in Scotch
and swaddled in wool.

Yet your branches rot,
thinner and damper each year.
Soon the whispers
will be stale air.
No one will be left
to tell tales
of your beautiful youth.

Everything dies.
How I once wished to see
you in your prime.
Even in your postmortem existence,
you've given me
mud to stick my toes into.

I see you
melting into the sea.
I smell your flesh
being swallowed
by bottom feeders.
You are a wonder to me
all the same.
I can't imagine growing up somewhere more beautiful.
Hannah J Strauss Dec 2019
I wake up before my phone's buzz, because I am SO excited to be alive.
I wake up and love just fills every pore and thought.
I wake up and the world is lucky to have me in it today!

Notifications let me know I was missed.
Birds sing good morning to me!
The spiders have spun, "hello friend" above my head.

My hair looks great, soft and shining.
My smile is broader than the horizon of possibilties.
My eyes are gleaming with potential.

Every outfit clings to me in awe.
My makeup does little.
My voice would make Enya cry.

Today I am a masterpiece of the universe.
Today I am a living God.
Today I am cosmically great.
For anyone who needs to be reminded how great they are :)
Xan Abyss Jul 2014
**** humans.
**** animals.
**** political parties.
**** anarchism.
**** art.
**** science.
**** religion, faith and spirituality.
**** music.
**** noise.
**** sports.
**** nerdy ****.
**** drugs, **** and alcohol.
**** sobriety.
**** vegetarianism&veganism.;
**** the meat industry and hunters.
**** feminism.
**** patriarchy.
**** the War.
**** pacifism.
**** your body type.
**** junk food.
**** fitness.
**** nationalism.
******* if you hate your homeland.
**** your belief.
**** your non-belief.
**** your pseudo-belief.
**** your job and **** everyone without a job.
All of us are wrong and do not deserve to live.
But then why does it matter?
It doesn't.
Nothing does.
I, we, all of us and everything spinning away in this perpetually expanding universe,
100% is equally worthless in the scheme of existence.
The infinite gaping void of time will swallow it all and destroy it inevitably.
That is entropy.
Everything will eventually cease to be.
Our jobs, families, lives, and our entire history not just as a species, but as an entire solar system, will eventually mean zilch forever.
Nothing matters, it never really has and it is never really going to.
But we're all here, aren't we?
Regardless.
So what are we gonna do?
Nothing?
Why?
Because it's the only thing that matters? Nothing?
Why does it have to matter?
If everything is equally worthless and insignifcant in the grand, cosmically entropic scheme of this progressively more and more infinite universe,
Then who the **** cares what we care about?
If nothing matters, why does it matter?
It doesn't.
Nothing does.
So are we going to sit around and waste away because we know nothing will last forever?
Deny ourselves of the (albeit completely worthless and unimportant) experiences that this universe has to offer?
**** ***?
**** love?
**** music?
**** art?
**** cinema?
**** great food, cooked who by people who love to cook great food?
**** writing, and poetry?
**** sports, the thrill of the game, the roar of the crowd when the underdog scores a goal for their country?
**** culture?
**** trying new things and going new places?
**** creating new life? Raising a family?
Seeing your children graduate?
Who cares that it makes you happy, right?
That you exist in a realm where you are able to feel joy?
Or euphoria?
Or ecstasy?
How about,
**** that negative *******?
The universe is the most incredible thing in existence -
Because it IS existence.
There is nothing worse, and nothing greater, there is only what is.
And what is, is beautiful,
and Terrifying,
and Magical,
and completely,
100%
REAL.
Reality is infinitely fascinating, wonderful, divine, tangible, wicked, dangerous, and intoxicating.
And human beings are all too lost with their heads to the ground
Or the sky,
Peering into cracks and shadows,
Chasing dragons and vices and dreams,
Searching for perhaps the only thing in existence,
Which truly does not exist:
Meaning,
to see it.
Being crushed and destroyed and surrendering their hope, and faith and love in the universe once they do not find it.
Humanity, and perhaps all intelligent life,
(though we may never find out)
Is distracted by the questions,
"Why am I here?"
"What is the meaning of life?"
And thus hindered from ever finding it
in their own
Meaningless
way.
Logos enters not
in matters of the Mythic,
yet they copulate.

Mythos is a realm
wholly separate from Logos
yet they interplay,

This dynamic play
in a mythicly tuned mind;
akin to wisdom.

Mythos and Logos
dancing cosmically onward
as if Yin and Yang.

To shun one and cling
zealously to the other
is tantamount to

fearing Death until
the day it's icy finger
points itself at you:

You miss out on all
the wondrous things in this life;
Enjoy here and now.
Taken from the bottom of another poem of mine:
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/mythic-interpritations/
you see just because you suffer from bad teeth and need to see dentists a lot of your time, it still can just mean you are reforming your body, like i have an infection in my mouth which is totally powerful and i am taking cephalexin every 12 hours till the capsules will run out, and if you pay attention to that, you can live longer, and i am not
saying in one life, like you need to drink coca cola to improve your cosmic energy
you need to eat junk food, because it helps you understand how healthy you are
you need to understand buddhism, right, so if you look after yourself right, without
worrying about your past health issues, you can have a healthy future life pattern
and improve the quality of your life, you see the world will be better if people didn't obsess about weight loss, and when they get an ache they say, why is god hassling me
no, the only way for people being turned into robots, is for people to understand each
other, we still have a long way to go, my dad's next life is a girl, but i reckon she is healthy because dad was healthy cosmically, you are not healthy if you think boys are better than girls but it's good to have a joke about it, that is healthy
i am on seroquel and serenace as well as this new drug, i believe in taking prescribed drugs because it helps with the future cosmically, and force me to be very fit
they said i might need to go to hospital if i have drowsy eyes, but he has to say that, because it is his job, i find out, if i take this medication by the right dose, it'll run smoothly, and athena is the god of love and war, the war on people suffering health problems and love being the idea of helping in this field of expertise
Karijinbba Jul 2021
Two Men's vibes
burning reach my Evez ice.
Two my diamond cave enter.
underneath my water fall.
Vibration's from beyond,
  two distinctive voices won,
ever twirling on and on;
deep as violins his pitch fiddle
his electrical guitar's timbre
command starry skies above!
My tantrick abyss below.
I love thee two, lovers mine.
Punjabi voice lover divine.
I thirst for yours all's mine
Our stars wisely magnetized!
Both cosmically energized.
A state of knowing is ours.
dancing eons on two poles,
to twirl on and ages on,
the mornings and eves long.
I twirl on two magestic poles.
Long shiny studs hard as steal!
First pole's twirl echoes longer
Kemah lover elite's older
  ancient memory hunger!
Implant blue pill chip slumber.
From willow tree, past pole lover
to renewed beloved my forever Kemah twin oaks
two glistening poles
I am art twirl divine

from past to present LOVE
Lives on and on!
~~~
By Karijinbba
All Rights Revised 7-29-21.
https://youtu.be/YaN5vo5HRaw
Veronica Baron Mar 2010
Love me, I say
with my eyes,
and my hands,
reaching.
Body knows best, baby.
Ours react together,
chemically,
spiritually,
cosmically.
Ourselves,
Looking out and into,
Becoming one
and none.
Unfolding the great depths
of the pleasure-stricken mind.
I love comments, criticisms definitely welcome.  Don't use my poems as your own please.   I just wrote this one.  It doesn't really feel finished though. Hope you enjoy anyway
atheana is working on removing my teeth

you see i went to the dentist this morning

and there was a problem, i was having a stabbing pain

right in my gum and the dentist enlisted athena’s help

in the healing of the infection, he gave me cephalexin

to be taken every 12 hours, till finished and i have been

advised to see a doctor if i feel giddy, they took an x-ray on my teeth

and i need another denture, as the teeth have to be pulled out

when i say athena helps, not in the magical way, no i mean

athena gives dentists and doctors help in healing, and will put

the patient under sedation, so the work can be done, athena will help you

whether you believe it or not, my consulton for the dental work is next tuesday

at 3.30pm, and i enlisted dads help in the cosmos to make sure i will help mum

with the payment, like paying $40 a fortnight, so she isn’t out of pocket, because

i don’t really want to blame dads death on not having help with my dental work done

i hope i get these teeth out as soon as i can, the right way, with athena’s help

it’s interesting to know if the NDIS, could give funding for dental treatment among other things

the coke i have been drinking, has been cosmically putting the gas into my mouth, and gets rid

of evil  from my brain, and this infection is apart of the evil, which was in my brain, you see when

i used to smile, i looked like i was giving the evil YEAH, like a few of my school friends

and that is when i was blackbeard the pirate, and i have to have the evil out of me from those days

i will need more dentures, i will help pay for it, with the help of the cosmos,

ATHENA, HELP ME
Ezwik Aug 2014
have you ever
sat
to think about your life
and just
how
inconsequential whatever you're doing is

just try
for
a second

fretting over finances
or
straightening your house
or
maybe trying to write
something
anything
worth reading

it's a peculiar kind of feeling
when
one particular Thursday night
you come to fully embrace
the idea
of being cosmically irrelevant
a small kind of feeling
akin to
maybe
standing under a large skyscraper
though
perhaps
the scale of that
doesn't quite do it justice

so you stop
and
think
and whatever you happened to be doing
seems silly
but
when you
think
a bit longer
you come to realize
you are cosmically irrelevant

so you fall asleep
on the toilet
reading Bukowski
one particular Thursday
matthew ronan Oct 28
as the drumline spiels his deal,
his baseless accusations ring
the bell behind your eyes! sing!
mimic his air! your cacophonous snare
shouts like an °astronaut° on a •space-walk•

promise! never let the cold take hold
of your reptile brain; you're half unsaid!
why must you let the louder half spread
his legs in ecstasy? you deal in chastity!
who are you? some [ sci-fi ***** ]?

you can't be saved from your retroflex grave,
so dare to live where no rhyme scheme toes
the line of ~ cosmically acceptable ~ prose,
see? nothing matters!  - this jawless chatter
asks "who are you? some cerebral *****?"

"an ugly *****!!!" you might retort
but self-awareness does not absolve
the sins of online vanity; dissolvvve
me, untrue - drown in pixels green and blue
or wake up
                     in the nothingness
                                                     ­  of the space-walk
what a load of nonsense ey !!!
Vi Aug 2022
Still more, in words

In experience

Confusing Familiarity with Comfort

Confusing Comfort with Peace

Reifying confusion, but not successfully

Yielding, on my knees, heart to the sky

Forgetting

Seeing through, a single pinhole in a perfectly realistic backdrop

Pinholes everywhere, more than can be contained

Not containing

Torn all over

Dispelling everything

Stripping away the Stripping away

Trying to stand very still and very quite so I can feel, hear, sense

Perfect realism

Wanting to be convinced by rage

Agitation, but only conceptual

Feeling tight

Feeling rehearsed

Feeling like an imposter

Wanting to impress

Wanting to be convinced of Self, of Realness

Fortified by others knowing, or preferably- admiration

Like being constructed out of sets of other peoples' eyes

Like being made real by propagating in more minds, many more minds, specific minds. In countless beating and virtual hearts, likes, thumbs up

Not wanting to be forgotten, while alive, while dead

Taxed by maintenance and constant imminent collapse

Compassion, like collapsing into a safe lap

Relinquishing

No pretense

Bare being

More naked than when unclothed

Total exposure

Outed, in the light of knowing

Self forgetting and glimpses of freedom

Trusting sighing

Always loving Sad, not despondent, just sad

Feeling continuous

Feeling fragmented

Feeling like motion, like flow

Feeling like thousands of still frames, constant flickering

Grasping at impermanence, visceral

Resting in the middle

Dancing down the tightrope

Knowing perfect poise, brief equilibrium

Reifying stability. Gone.

Everything is hysterically funny

Hysterically

But also, sometimes, just plain humorous

And absurd

Crying

Loving people

Grateful for people

Seeing beauty everywhere

Encountering this, intimate, me, indistinguishable being, but everywhere

Ouch

Awareness

Always coming back

Like an epic

Like a great love story

Like the last wring of that silk dress you weren't supposed to squeeze dry

Feeling like I shouldn't know what I know, like I couldn't. This must be illegal, cosmically illegal

Knowing the inside of my hand

Knowing teenage shame

Knowing being yelled at, towered over, by my dad, in a narrow hallway, eyes glued to speckled floor tiles, feeling small

Loving with my body, with my hands, with my mouth, with my whole entire strong softness

Loving with understanding

Loving with teeth and nails

Music, lacerating

Crying with tears, and snot, and heaving

Becoming one single, concentrated point

Wanting to envelope everything. Really. Actually. Like physically with my body.

Knowing I am not this voice

Or this writer

Or this narrator

Though I am also all that
I couldn't edit my previous Poem for some reason. There is therefore repetition here from "The Art of Selfing". I do not prefer it this way.
thumbs to the sky as we cosmically hitchhike, distances we can't find on earth but somehow hide inside our minds.  ignition sequence, a countdown said in rewind.  one more time for the sake of headlines that will seek to remind the exploration we've stopped and now just pantomime.

we are a planet sized diamond or the birth of galaxies in ultra-violet; the fusion of an atom or the things that science can't fathom.  the creation of a star and the worlds that are suddenly becoming less far.  Let's hotwire a rocketship, vacation in zero G.  we'll redefine gravity and finally understand relativity.

this is the last time I go to NASA for an answer.
too much Sagan lately
busy pitter patters
of feet, at least
pretending
to be busy
these humans,
these flesh sacks,
place their bags
laptops
their unconsciousness
on this barnes & noble’s
coffee tables
whose chairs aren’t comfortable

yet, here they sit, beside me
amongst me
and an old
ancient, it seems now,
version of me would’ve cursed them
silently
while pretending to associate
to relate
to give a ****
for doing so,
for raising my anxiety,
for reflecting what i truly was,
at least
pretending
to identify with that narrow
window of my self

some collide
physically,
cosmically,
spiritually,
intuitively, whatever the hell you brand it

we all seek
connection,
always elsewhere,
never with our miserable
anxious selves

and if we can’t connect
we, at least
pretend
to do so
much like our riddling iphones
desperate for battery
for a sort of
charge
for life
elsewhere
somewhere else
anywhere
else rather than within

to be alone, amongst the crowds,
without our phones, our books,
our lovers, our seven dollar coffees,
our ******* egg white breakfast sanwhiches

almost as if these things
are essential to the unsavory
cravings and desires, or
dare i say
ourselves

we pretend
to work, to live
we read, without reading
we speak, without thinking,
we speak, without speaking,

“to be, or not to be.”

we don’t care for
intention
anymore
how could we?
we’re just so
un-*******-phadomably
busy
doing
nothing,

at all

just,
pretending.

-melanholicreator
people pretend.
Arizona Indigo Jan 2013
Hum
When we are gifted with the secret knowledge of life,

it is in our heart’s nature to exult and boast with flurry; this feeling is power making love and giving birth, upon rapid waves of universal symphonic hums of intelligence rooting inside your true core and bursting through your bloodstream.

However,

When such a lucid instance occurs,

surrender to silence,

for silence is the humble endowment you cosmically place upon the universes’ crown, as wisdom is what it celestially places upon yours.

Verbal language can never prove what the enlightening language of silence delivers.

the spiritual light recites its poetry in the psyche’s temple of wisdom that eternally makes up the soul, a sanctuary that we all must gain knowledge of, constantly be aware of, acknowledge, and nurture.

Only those who seek shall receive and in their triumph accept the religion of silence.

true language channels through the silenced mind and with that obtain truth.

-Arizona
Valarola Nikola Jun 2019
I'm staring down at my arm holding a knife,
It may be only in my head, but I'm balancing my life,
Weighing out if it's worth the pain,
That I've been dealing with, making me more insane,
I've been ******* over so many times, by people who said they cared,
Well, maybe it's time I give up and stop trying so hard,
Because I've taken all the medications they want to give me,
I've done years and years, so much talking in therapy,
And still I'm here, contemplating the end of it all,
Because there's just so many times you can get up after a fall,

And it's a lie when they say you can always dust off your knees,
After laying on the ground, getting up and praying for release,
Because I've done my time, being miserable and in hurt,
And I just want some relief from sitting in the dirt,

Someone once told me you can always call me when you don't feel safe,
Well I don't want to be a burden, because I'd be calling every day,
Because lately I've been feeling down, feeling wrong,
About the past and all the things people have done,
And yeah, I'm more of a sinner than a saint at the end of the day,
But that's just the role that these deeds have cast me in to play,
For being abused at such young of an age,
And now I hate myself and want to pay,
Cosmically, permanently, with a smile on my face,
Because it would all be over, I can't keep up this pace,

The pills,
The thrills,
The ****,
The greed,
The hookups,
The makeups,
The alcohol,
The temptation of it all,
And everything in between,
I want to atone for my deeds,

It's a lie when they say you can always dust off your knees,
After laying on the ground, getting up and praying for release,
Because I've done my time, being miserable and in hurt,
And I just want some relief from sitting in the dirt.
almat011 Feb 2019
How amazingly beautiful is the star brilliance of your amazing dark skin, regal skin color, for women it goes more than anything in the world, it decorates them as the most valuable decoration in the world, more expensive and more luxurious than it is in the world, this amazing color poetizes and praises their divine beauty. How sweet and gentle is its color, how beautifully it glitters in the light showing all indescribable beauty, all these beautiful overflows of skin tones are so beautiful as the brilliance of millions of diamonds, so beautiful, it is cosmically beautiful, it is extraterrestrial beauty, higher aesthetics, as if priceless painting or through It is a beautiful sculpture personifying sensual femininity. You are perfect no doubt, you are a beautiful flower of love, an eternal flame of magical passion. In your figure so much hot playful cat's grace of a lioness, like a dance, as an unforgettable melody of love, a relationship with you is the most romantic movie in the world.
Author: Musin Almat Zhumabekovich
The Dedpoet Apr 2016
How long I have been in the dark....

A fate less holy,
A mission undefined,
Heart that cries,
Tears that bleed,
The abysmally charged traveller
That I have become walking
Until tendons fade away,
So my knees have scraped
The fugitive hope of the ravine.

        The space of loneliness
        Between these shoulders
        And the tunnelling that
        Devours the necessity to seek
        Out a hope,
        Something to fight for.

Saving grace within the dark,
Because dark is not dark
Without the light to show
Its depths,
its attachments to the misery,
This Earth, home of humanity
Trampled by the inner search,
The strength of hope is the light
Of the world.

Oh but the ravine does not falter,
Its crescent flow like a carving
Knife to cut away any luminous
Idea, the idea that cannot die,
And we are all formed in the light
As we leap into the abyss
In a battle for the sanctum of the soul.

     Where is the philosophy?
     The ideal that love can conquer
     Love, faith of the child
     In the blind advent?
     From the origins of water,
     Many drown in the depressing
     Motion of the blind lights that
     Surround them.

Hope is not sterile,
The idea cannot die,
Familiar to the dark,
Because we overcome,
The obliterated redemption
Is but the whole of the world
Saying you cannot.
Confronting the sea as a rock
To the crashing waves,
Bewildered by marches on the darkness,
Battered and bruised,
At the edge of death,
Purpose is here as we open the light
And reveal the eyes we always had.

     Deep, deep into the dark,
     We have been thrown as swift
     Grenades of light, the explosion sudden,
      The sight revealingly hopeful.

And God is watching the children
He made from dust to confront
Ourselves in a battle of reflection,
Every mirror needs the light
To see the truth of themselves,
Here the nocturnal night
Fights for every soul,
Dancing at the depression,
The sadness of menacingly
Prideful elitism.

    Sweat, these deep meanings,
    Who wants to think on them?
    Ignorance, blissful warrior
     Of the dark,
      Death to the fire inside
      That fashions the sleep or hope,
      The individual loses that which makes
     Them, and here in lies the ravine
     And its war.

Outcast, fighter of the dark,
Depressed warrior,
there is a form of light
In the confusing shadows,
Away from that voicelessness
That does speak,
Shed the ancestral burden,
Leaping from one horror
To the next horror,
Reveal that which is hope,
When you from before when God
Molded you as a form of light,
And though you may think
That you are just a flash,
Remember that every star twinkled
Its light before the last gasp.

Come out and reveal
The fire that yearns,
Feed the hope as a fire
That swells, a fire that burns.
You are the instruments of new
Beginnings, that which
Was rejected, that which was cast
Away like falling winds,
Winds that bkew you to another day,
We pass daily from the darkness,
As if from sleep,
We battle now in the void.

And though we are small
In the vast darkness,
We shine as cosmically gifted
Luminaries, shining as
Fragments in the night,
Eternal hope, a form of light.
A Heart that Parts away from the chambers,That pump lies thru the veins with pain.A love that was crucified and died, sacrificed, and does behind a disguise.A mask.
That mask the past scars, the torn skin, truth ripped from the flesh left hollow and echos sorrow,
Faint in the distance, youth in the mirror,
Not in the eyes,tired of lies , eyes cry seeing human bein their nature.
Soo cruel  the pool of liquor im bathin my pours soakin the reality to of depression wastin every ounce of time blazin to relieve the stress of being puzzled in a maze,
Forsaken and disturbed to see the same face awaken shaking like the floor of order.
The door of opportunity leads to another border.
Truth itself holds no water,Takin so much in becoming a mental horder,
nothing new but the struggle, and only lived a quater.
When is there change ? im in need of aspoiler,or vent.
Like im exhaust, im exhausted from many losses, im lost and losed many calls from God.
Stop stallin God hear my repent im callin, so answer.
Thats all im askin ,
im tired of being bent, broke from bein spent,
sick of the cancer, sick of abuse.
I want peace of mind, can hell call a truce? living on the edge, Im hangin, danglin , souless  as a manikin, lost in the sky walkin,
High like aniken.
Im havin epiphanies, deliberately givin up my own liberty,
honestly my  honesty is now nothing no one acknowledge my poverty. My truth was rich, outta this world cosmically possibly the realist to ever grace reason modestly.

BY: Emmanuel jv Hernandez
1/16/14
EJ Aghassi May 2014
thunderstorm

tidal wave,
even

when our bodies
got too close for
comfort

close for comfort
too close for comfort,
in the good way

my hands around your waist
my stomach dropping
lower than my own

alien
but so natural
so natural you
felt it too, it's
natural you see

we weren't told to
we were guided
cosmically guided

you grabbed my hair
and grew close
I could feel your breath

I closed my eyes
and could weep
but smiled instead

slightly, but the
smile was real
my body was tingling

I felt woozy
I felt your heart beat
studied your waist line

and now I'm drinking
wine too quickly
wine from a box, wine strong

and you are as you were
undaunted and
ever constant

but these walls
are covered with
every
second

pictures and pictures
of those
dragging
moments

I need a cigarette

I think we should just
keep this whole thing professional
Loose coins sing like cheap nickel-plated wind chimes
in the side compartment as she slams
the car door behind her.
For half a second, I consider getting out after her--
following, so she can give me those petulant puppy dog pupils
she's perfected through persistant practice.
A better plan: I make a face at her back reminiscent of
three "na's" and a pair of "boo's."
As if somehow cosmically aware I've just hit my daily quota of immaturity,
she speaks.
"You know, I just find it funny h--"
but I'm already in reverse.

*

What is it about driving with nothing but stars and trees as companions
that makes a night cruise so much more thought provoking?
Could it be because I can finally hear myself think?
No. I always think out loud anyway.
Maybe it's because they actually seem to listen?
"****, you are way too high right now, my guy."
"Nah, I'm good, brody."
Okay. I don't even listen to myself;
why would nature be any different?
But there's something.
Picking up speed,
back pushing against the seat,
feeling every imperfection in the road through the chassis--
eyes peeled for parked patrol boys.
Making turns onto streets I have no business on.

If she were here, she'd be giving me one of her looks
instead of standing with her  head out the moonroof
as I would if I were passenger with someone driving this fast
in unfamiliar territory.

If she were here, she'd give me **** about the wind tangling her hair
like I won't use it as an excuse to run my fingers through it later.
If she were here, she'd give me **** about my music being
too loud in this minivan heavy neighborhood
like I won't use it as an example why we shouldn't be mad at kids
who do it to us twenty years from now once we've settled down.

If she were here, she'd be a voice of reason.
For whatever reason
Mike Essig May 2015
“I loved you long before you loved me. It's the only thing I have you beat at, and I'll bring it up every chance I get.”*

She was sitting on the beach
wearing the tiniest bikini
staring out at the perfect Adriatic.

She sat alone, which considering
her beauty and elegance
seemed some cosmically bad joke.

Unlike myself, I approached her,
flashed my guileless 17-year-old smile,
and said hello, fully expecting
a giant older brother or even
Poseidon himself to appear
from nowhere and ****** me.

She spoke a lilting English
with an accent I could not name.
She said her name was Marisa
and she was twenty-one.

Next morning, in my two dollar room,
after an exhausting night of abandon
during which she moaned and peaked
three times, she dressed as I lay
shrivelled and worn out
as a mummified banana.

She told me she had come here
to be alone a little because
next week she must marry
an older man whom she did not love
chosen as was custom by her parents.

She said she would remember me
as the last morsel of passion
she would ever know in this world.

She kissed my forehead and left.

I had no words.

I never knew her last name
nor ever saw her again.

The Wheel spins, the particles dance,
we can never know the trajectories
that chance encounter can engender
nor what shapes the next round brings.

The next day I left for Greece
uncertain of what had even happened.

I still don't know. I never will.

But I think I may have met her again...

  ~mce
Mysterious encounter. 17-year-old gets lucky and has no clue what happened. A 63-year-old suspects it is happening again, only better.  RLA
Sixteen Jais Jan 2019
Create your own reality, control it with mentality and mentally believe that you are right where your need to be.

Does the past define you?
And your now predict ya?
Do you feel the same as in last years pictures?

I don't believe in fixtures
We're evolving you see
Consciously
Individually
Collectively
And cosmically

But if you only see with eyes
And only hear with ears
Then the connection and perception
then suddenly disappears
Life is hard, as I travel through outer space, in and out the cosmic pubs, first of all there is
The Neptune pub, where you get an atmosphere, like the rough pubs on earth, and then you
Get singers like elvis Presley doing the dancing styles, like with songs like don't be cruel, and
Then every Saturday night, we play return to sender, which is sang with a very fine voice, and
Then Sam kinison, does the wild thing, and the way he says you make your blood come out, it makes you wanna bleed, and Sam kinison on every Sunday night, USA time, has a meet and greet with any children who have been taken from this earth, Sam teaches these kids how to
Look after their current earth bodies, and he does that by checking on earth TV, everything that
They are doing and then after they have finished with them, they give them the cosmic voices, saying things like, go to the pub, go to the shop and tease the men, and better still go and buy
Your groceries, but sometimes it feels like you have to be careful, what you tell the cosmos, because bad spirits like ted bundy and ed gein and also Steven Bradley who kidnapped Brian
Allan's last life, is mainly making sure Brian doesn't be a cool kid, mind you Brian's current family are putting a cool kid in the itch of his toes, trying to protect him from being kidnapped, to show, Cronus, who is Brian that people are still wanting what Brian wants, rather than what
Other people want, you see Brian has a mental illness now, and would like people to like him, but the only mate Brian had as an adult was a schitzophrenic dude, who was cool in a very uncool sort of a way, and every holiday that Brian went on, he heard voices from his old mate
Saying that he was a worthless heap of ****, and Brian ran down the streets of Sydney saying
Leave me alone, leave me alone, why don't you leave me alone ya ****, and as Brian was yelling he heard people look at Brian and shove the gears up, saying you fucken ****, you are,
Meanwhile back in outer space at Jupiter moon, Brian's dad, who was Barry Allan was performing that version of singing in the rain, with words saying Cha Choo Choo Cha Choo Choo Cha Cha, toes together and hands together and go cat go, and then sang a song that
Brian's brother Chris would remember, where at one stage dad would yell out, dreamer, where the hell are all the sheep, and Brian and Barry went on a trip to Saturn, where they went to Saturn club rings or rings of Saturn, and, man, this was happy hour heaven, all the young dudes say happy hour is better on earth, but I can assure you that happy hour is much nicer up here
Because if anyone fought you, you don't feel pain, so instead of fighting, they would chuck a keg of methane on you, so your earth life will improve, but there is no such thing as improving
Really, and maybe you need to be careful, but Brian feels that itch of his feet, for him anyway
Is a way, of improving, like if it's itchy, you are in harms way, and if you are stepping away from bad spirits, you feel it in your toes, if you feel safe, and you are working, you don't have the itch,
And, lately Brian Allan has been feeling that cool kid coming back, because when Brian travelled around civic, ya know, showing them all how to party, but instead of doing that, Brian
Discguises himself as Briano Alliano, to perform music about what Brian really wants to do, and that is write his problems out of him, and Brian's nanna from his fathers side, is John Robert rimel, who is a young singer, who me, who is Cronus is trying to get him to come to Australia
To perform in a concert, or maybe sing Christmas music, you see Brian's nanna says, I used to
Call Brian my old sweetie pie, but now, I want to **** that stupid part of her, cause I remember
When she told me that she got robbed, one day, said Brian but Brian was unaware of when that was, thinking that it was the other day, and nanna looked at Brian as being her cutie pie, despite Brian tying himself up cosmically on nanna' bed by the evil Stephen Bradley who
Has Brian's stinking soul, but now nanny, who wanted to die in 1997, to get away from my smoking and drinking caper, to leave the Allan clan, and become a professional singer, she could do that if she puts her creativity skills she used in her Allan life and write songs and perform covers, and my nanna will fly around making sure the Allan's never lose their touch
Toward creativity, because, the evil goblin who had got rid of stan burns and Ray pocock and
Barry Allan and all the nice men that lived closed to Brian and Brian wants to keep everyone safe from this evil goblin by preaching the word, like if you wanna live, be creative, but some people want to die, said a man at ACTEW in lower molonglo, but that could be, that there is a lot of suffering on earth, and not everyone gets to accomplish their dreams, so the best way, is
To die, and accomplish their dreams in future lives, but that isn't supposed to sound negative,
It is supposed to give an uplifting approach to dying, as to say, that there is no such thing as
Negative death, I can tell you Brian's dad Barry who died in March 2014, was getting tired of
Brian coming in, ha know running and looking stressed, decided to die, so Barry can check out
Why Brian is having problems, or why the voices are in his head to begin with, and since Barry died, he has performed in a few cosmic pubs, like Neptune pub and Jupiter moon, and Brian
Who discguises his body as Briano, with long hair and a mo, and Barry sort of knows it's Brian
But he is enjoying Listening to Brian's cosmic style and really enjoys the keg of methane Brian loves to throw on Barry, to improve and add a bit of cool to Barry's next life, Betty Campbell.


Sent from my iPad
Kiagen McGinnis Dec 2011
i want to run every grain of sand in your soul through my fingers
not to call you my own,
just to
feel
because i am certain nothing could be as cosmically beautiful.

i want to take every piece of everything tangible you have ever put your energy into,
and meditate under it
slip my ears below the hot water of your composition.

i want to drown in the infinite fountain of catalyst beauty you spout

i want to dance in your orbit and wake up wearing things that smell like you

desires abounding, love:

let's be in the moment
to be in the moment with you is to be in the stars.
Marina Gomez Jun 2011
Waves are hurled from the sea
Smacking the rocks with chaotic symmetry
The sand is bothered yet not unmoved
Unsure what the water tried to prove
The sand settles down as it should be
And the waves are called back by the sea
The water whips and falls unforgiving
A body of water truly living
For this emotion could come from nothing less
Than an angry soul caught in distress
Hurt and reliving
A cruel reality deceiving
This pain is what throws the water around
What makes the waves crash to the ground
The sea is in love with the land
And desperately tires to capture the sand
There is no sadder sound
Than a lover losing a love found
But such is the tale of land and sea
A constant struggle of crossed destinies
As the water re-tracks, the land breaks apart
Shaken to the core by its broken heart
Like the water, the land wishes to be free
And wants more than a kiss as the waves leave
The land prays the water to return
And extinguish the passion that burns
Because the land is in love with the sea
And curses the forces that wont let them be
Dear reader, might you never learn
What it truly means to want and yearn
Each in love and unable to speak
The sea dries up and the land grows bleak
A tragedy given a voice
Through pen marks and word choice
In nonexistence, I believe them together
Cosmically intertwined forever

— The End —