"dualism" poems
Sometimes i wonder,
Wondering wonders of wonderful
World,for i living in this awful
World,spiral of life with terrific
Surroundings.
Unholy acts to the victims of
Xenophobic attacks,violence
Turns an everyday speech.
Government revolts gathers.
Towards poverty-stricken.
Diseases classic collide,remittance
Assassins rendered for intensely
Militancy.
Objection!!my lord,
Shysters bailing out
Evil-doers,juridical system
Not pertained.Poverty-trap
Pounding,chemical gases
Filling lungs of little
Ones.
Somebody play nice to
This,God play part to
This,denote dualism of
Good and evil.
Yesterday they gang banged
One of your children.
Drugs co-operate infection of
Young minds,youth gangsterism
Uproar.
Father herd your sheeps
To the right path,we seek
Guidance from above.
Family horror-strucks unites,
Matrimony rending day by
Day,onto religion segregations
Strickes by ??????.
Keep holy to this life *Life
Testimony* and paste
Amen...
Oct 12, 2015
Oct 12, 2015 at 4:32 AM UTC
There is nothing I can give to you that is not past or future.
When my both selves fight, they throw insults at each other like an unhappy couple.
“You are already gone!” the one says,
“You are never here” says the other.
And I sing then. I never let any note slip away into silence. Songs in which I’m a magician,
right before the grand finale,
the last vanishing act.
I close my eyes and slowly slice away layers of skin,
so I can become less and less,
so I can sail away on the river without an end,
it’s flow imposing my soul with the authoritative demand to move forward.
There is no river.
I am pitifully human so there is no alchemy that transforms loss into beauty.
Ihe things I have built, I built myself. Like this house of memories
with it’s sole window. The moon shines through it every night.
What an unperfect image,
what my heart endures everytime I reach out only to feel
solance turning into a hell-flamed sky.
The darkness is gone like I will be gone
like everything has gone forever.
There is also no house.
Only the pale waves of a grey-winter sea,
dualism of being and not-being
a perfect symmetry,
a beautiful fragile balance.
Aug 25, 2018
Aug 25, 2018 at 5:38 PM UTC
I am not / a Schizophrenic
Feeling myself / Like Someone Else
Today it / Is Writing
Must End /My thoughts
Entirely
I - A
am - ******
not - phrenic;
feeling - Like
my-someone
self - else
Today - is
it - writing
must - My
end - thoughts
Entirely - Entirely
Oct 4, 2011
Oct 4, 2011 at 7:43 AM UTC
we become accustomed to the brainwashed idea of what living is,
working more hours than time we spend with those we love,
to come home empty-handed with a sour face.
happiness is thought to be a piece of paper
that gets you places and things.
but is that illusion of materialism true to rid of desolation?
solace lies within
and contentment takes time.
let not our distraction of mortality wave us from seeing the good,
but our dualism let us see the meaningless of every day.
our moments are fleeting,
and will one day be forgotten.
what we smiled for, cried for, and died for,
will one day lose its meaning.
is this pessimism?
or is it truth?
is it objective thinking,
refusing to believe that
we are anything substantial?
one day they will laugh at our irrelevancy.
for people come and go,
and what is today,
will one day be in ruins.
Oct 22, 2014
Oct 22, 2014 at 9:26 AM UTC
Philosophical epistemology strumming adventures
Albeit, coherent mental decoding stratifications structured
Supposedly our world rests in our minds, revolving knowledge
An entwine of conceptual abstract flowing within oneself
The mind in the “I” the “I” a reality lived in my experiences
George of Leontini, a mine mind approving solipsism exploring innatism
Imaginative insights that nothing exists, the secrets secreting secrets
The knowledge behind the veils that remains un-communicated
A reverse of normality and known existences, moral disposition
Hypothesis of depersonalizations, adventures of self internalization
Justifications for what lies outside the Medulla Oblongata
Skepticism and just alternatives to western philosophy
Subjective unapproved experiences only robust in one’s mind
Descartes abstraction of inner experiences, reciprocated paradigm
Intuitively, perceived lived formulations of "Cogito Ergo Sum"
Psychological conscious undoubted individualistic thoughts
Berkley explored perspectives that physicality is an embodiment of the mind
The mind a decoding visualizer, that encompass the non-existent
An idealism marriage of ‘metaphysical’ and epistemological philosophy
The intense esoteric “dualism” verses the fiery “monism” reality
Mind boggling differentiated truths bleeding with blinking unresolvable hypothesis
The jiggered methodological, streamlining the un -logic sequential beats
Feb 19, 2016
Feb 19, 2016 at 11:56 AM UTC
I.
verdant fingers poke
through sugar-dusted hillsides
nature dons spring thread
II.
eighteen-year old quilts
flowery detergent quilts
bed bare, without you
III.
love is dualism
the umbrella and the rain
hope and the horror
IV.
for stardust we are
unto stardust we return
soon all things shall end.
V.
my still-beating heart
torn by thorns and razor wire
never, ever, love a liar.
VI.
we swim among clouds
our planet turned upside-down
heavens full of dirt.
VII.
a whispering wind
wanders far and wide across
plains of wilted grain
Sep 22, 2013
Sep 22, 2013 at 6:19 PM UTC
there is a broken thing
reformed in amber
disarranging the spectrum
of sensical causal motion
nail biting following
migration patterns of neural
activity and we bless the few
who cut clean and learn early
those bespectacled masses
cannot intuit the limited scope
of aversion to blurry pink clouds
gussied up in peripheral vision the
pineal gland controls circadian
rhythms gushes dmt when
we die i wonder i
wonder what that (vestigial)
little pinecone knows
that we don’t
cased in spongy
grey matter and i don’t think
much of time as metaphor but
my watch strap broke
yesterday i hope
that is
important i do
nothing so simple or complex
as love but(i carry it in my heart)
Nov 1, 2014
Nov 1, 2014 at 8:44 PM UTC
Me and you
And this blissfulness
Called dream love
Realizing that
One plus one
Equals one
As a forever truth
Realizing that
One plus One
Equals me and you
As a forever truth
When the sounds become feelings
And the feelings become sounds
In this dualism of love
Very similar with
The particle-wave
Dualism of light.
When the unique bliss
Means me and you...
Oct 8, 2011
Oct 8, 2011 at 7:23 AM UTC
Right and Wrong : born by Deeds
As Adam sons : Abel and Cain.
The Bible and the Qur’an ,still,
Are Vedas of the Semitic people.
Eve-wife of Adam rebelled once
And opened the Gate of Hell.
Down they fell leaving Paradise
To toil on Earth - their DNA hold
The right and wrong: we too hold.
Follow Christ to absolve from Sin
Follow Al Ameen (pbuh) for Heaven:
Pray for Peace(Islam) of Heaven
And be righteous to save from Hell.
Both pray and prey each other, Alas!
Even during” holy Ramadan” days.
Unity and Grace both teach us, but.
Their Institutions cheat us bright.
Hindu Vedas too teach us well
On the Unity of souls in a Soul
Also with a path of Its Dualism.
Love all ; sacrifice for others
To attain our Heavenly Abode.
Suras worship idols in Temples
Asuras hate it in their temples.
Right or Wrong :both by the Deeds
They inherit the Hell or the Heaven.
Shall not **** !Desire not others wealth!
For all Wealth is of God, the Creator-
So taught but our lust make us killers.
(26/7/2014)
Jul 27, 2014
Jul 27, 2014 at 1:53 AM UTC
“What type of poem am I?”
I am as formless as the clouds,
and as elegiac as the silence,
in the itinerary of the noise.
I am not a classic
written by the author, God.
The rhythms of my verses are supplied
by the parable of their tears.
I am not in me,
though I abide within myself.
I am but a colour,
whose colours have worn away.
Maybe I was written as
an ethical effect of modern art.
Or maybe I was not written
but just replicated from the lives of others.
I wish I could read the critics’ minds.
Is it true that a poem cannot read anyone?
I loathe the way they recite me,
pretending to understand me.
Maybe I am
the monologue of my rhymes.
Or maybe I am
the narrative of my own life.
However much they hate me,
I am that poetry they can’t write.
I am the phantom of the world
crawling, with a rose in the hand
in the boulevard of the thorns.
However much they praise me,
I am only a drop of verse
drawn up by time
to become the formless clouds
in the wilderness of the literary sky.
O Poet! O my maker!
What type of poem am I?
O strangers! O my readers!
What sort of poem am I?
I wish I could read myself
and discern my spirit.
Is it true that a poem
cannot read a poem?
“Am I a poem?”
or am I just a rhymed hoax?
This cyclic curiosity goes on eternally.
I am lost in a synthesis between
the dualism of my readers
and the monism of my maker.
No one knows what it is like to be a poem.
No one knows how vague its core is.
There is nothing as genuine as me.
There is nothing as deceptive as me.
Jun 5, 2012
Jun 5, 2012 at 1:23 AM UTC
Almost two years and
These streets are heavy while letting me
In on the secret I came here for
The streets whisper,
"There isn't one. Move on. Move out."
We aim to do so
Let down is not the right phrase
Let go is more like it
Some days you try harder at love
Then others
And sometimes
Those days
Are the better one's
Forgetting love
You forget reasons for living
You forget about the dualism of life
And can breathe for a bit
Not sounding like gasping
Happiness gets easier
They tell me
Melancholia is an oil spill
Whose scent and touch
Can never fully be washed away
Like the blood of a ******
Or the acts of a lover cheating
How we
Carry our wounds
Through life
Like baggage full of old clothing
We just can't seem to part with
Where's the money coming from?
Where's the free time?
Is that the sound of the noon-day chimes?
And the party lights are dimming
As my soul quivers in this moonlight
Like a glass of fresh beer over the brim spilling
Dusk falls, the trees waver, the field awaits the killing
As the maid at dinner slaves preparing
Absent in mind
Absent in heart
The *** all alone
Pushes along his cart
Feb 12, 2013
Feb 12, 2013 at 1:22 AM UTC
Beneath these horrid ceilings I hunker
By crooked tones of blackness a slave I am taken
The madness multiplies limitlessly
With the death that is each day & dusk
“We grow in numbers…”
Yes, that was the whisper ringing in my ears
“But fewer a soul within reach stand aware
Glenn [synchronized]
The constant of torment I bare
Anonymous Voice [synchronized]
The constant of torment you bare
Such merciless tones carved so murderously
So provocative yet so tyrannical
Glenn & Anonymous Voice [synchronized]
“To taste again of foreign crucifixion we shan’t;
The grief was far too great before!”
“And but of what authorization do they carry
to smite us as callously as they have?”
“In deep thirst we have been doused;
Lastingly we’ve been branded by the dualism
this troublesome hellion displays”
Dec 19, 2013
Dec 19, 2013 at 8:06 PM UTC
what i understand as a definition of
the word complex,
it requires a hyphen as a
pseudo conjunction, in that it
coordinates words in opposition,
which is why freud's right on the
money with the madonna-whore
complex, but completely bonkers
with his oedipal fetishes,
because oedipus is a complex in itself
that cannot be excavated
and theorised for the sake of a
analogue... that's a horrid plagiarism
that might plagiarise awry,
for all orthodox necessities:
a complex is aqua- -marine
aquamarine... but in terms of theory
it's evident that the hyphen usage
is still retained, before everything
goes **** up perfect *** **** of
compounding the two words like a german:
Fernmeldeverkehr (telecommunication),
der... 'nurse! pass the syllable scalpel!'
'herr doktor, der silbeskalpell.'
'ah scheiße, 'ere we go 'ere we go 'ere we go:
fern' 'mel 'dever 'kehr.'
the operation was a success, apart from
the silbeskalpell being left in the patient's body;
and i never understood why people
expect you to talk to them face-to-face
like you're reading autocue, the minute
you talk imagining off empty space
to invent a new language of comfort
they equate you with autism...
i once had a glance at psychiatric notes
sent to the bureaucratic doctor (g.p. / general
practitioner)... psst... they only care
about whether:
a. you're able to keep eye contact
b. you're / you're not biting your nails...
but that's what you get, the welfare state
policy of funding distribution of the infamous
n.h.s. (national health service)...
****** by the cartesian dualism of splitting
mind from body like the brain is some
gooey porridge mixed with cornstarch for
thickness... only 0.6% of n.h.s. funding goes into
psychiatry... i'm guessing at least 1% goes into
prescriptions for pensioners demanding ******
i already told you, cats are ontologically autistic,
hence their appeal to autistic children,
or just anyone not really into leashes, being
tugged or tugging, come rain or shine, come
7am or 7pm... they can be so inanimate sometimes
that they blend in will flowers, and when awake,
yes, like plants doing the kayan lahwi tribe's
extending neck with rings thing... ah what's it called...
ah yes phototropism... take the rings off the neck
a million swans with broken necks.
Feb 28, 2016
Feb 28, 2016 at 7:39 AM UTC
In one dreadful winter night
I awoke and found the Truth
The self in me died
And the duality melt
To synchronize
To become
The I.
Now I am the Absolute
The really Real
Earlier...
I was a 'being'
A myopic over-bent
A creature of false crisis
Of Hamletian dilemmas
Of Ramusian dualism
Caught up in the concentric circles
I was one....
Spirited into myriad forms
Of love and lust,
Of desire and appetite.
A pilgrim sojourning into the endless night
Purblind by the dazing mirages.
I lost my way
In the eternity of illusion
Materiality held me
Time bound me
At the dead-end of my experience
In the flash-back of my awareness
I delved into the I
And found myself in the Edenic Garden
Rejoicing in the celestial music.
Aug 20, 2014
Aug 20, 2014 at 5:44 AM UTC
Every thought you have ever had
Whether good or bad
Sprung from the recesses of your mind
A deliberating consciousness that is blind.
Every feeling you have ever felt
Was wound tightly with a deterministic belt
Every word you have ever written
Was written with a hand wearing a causal mitten.
Free-will is an illusion and always has been,
However, this is perhaps one elephant in the room
best left unseen.
Dualism is a false philosophy.
We are a causal system,
In a Universe governed by a causal piston.
Libertarian free will is a delusion.
However comforting it may feel to be free,
I had no other option that to write these words,
And be me.
“Man can do what he wills but he cannot will what he wills.”
― Arthur Schopenhauer, Essays and Aphorisms
Aug 22, 2017
Aug 22, 2017 at 4:53 AM UTC
When I think of life , I think of the dead,
when I think of black, I think shades of white,
when I think of good, I think of evil,
when I think of dark , I think of morning light.
When I think of tears, I think of a smile,
when I think of love, I think of human hate,
when I think of work, I think of play,
when I think of hell, I think of heavens gate.
When I think of God, I think of God.
Apr 3, 2013
Apr 3, 2013 at 11:28 AM UTC
Neutrons, protons and electrons compose
The entirety of atoms pervading The All,
Forming bewildering matter, objects and substances,
Ranging from dust to stars, planets, galaxies,
Superclusters, organisms, oxygen and water,
Living creatures.
Neutrons and protons in turn made of quarks,
Elementary particles, indivisible, positively charged.
Deprived of a structure of their own they strongly interact,
To create one and many zillion more.
Never alone always bound
In twos and threes, sparkling composites,
Hadrons at the heart of atomic nuclei.
Quarks making us.
While electrons, together with muons and taus
Only heavier but identical, are leptons,
The most common elementary particles in our world
Offer atoms their chemical properties.
Negatively charged, indivisible, smaller there are none.
Deprived of a structure of their own they weakly interact,
Frantically moving subject to electromagnetic fields.
Leptons making us.
Quarks and Leptons in conclusion
Minuscule nature of our essence shared
With that of all that exists. No wonder,
Everything in dualism persists.
Seeking harmonic balance and elegance,
A cosmos of particles interacting in countless manners
To materialise the entirety of energy in the Universe,
Shaping it with imagination and creativity.
As stars make gold, pressurised carbon diamonds,
Thirty trillion cells a human being, a human being a thought.
Jun 1, 2017
Jun 1, 2017 at 3:51 AM UTC
They look at me
And assume they see you too
It's me and I
Or so it's printed in the beholders eye
How can they experience you
And say the recognize me too
Dualism is inherent,
To all things we say and do
Different points of view,
A line,
May look the same
The second time it's spelled,
It defines another context
Mar 6, 2016
Mar 6, 2016 at 7:42 AM UTC
Your choreography reminds me of chicken soup which has been adulterated with amphetamines, with a burlesque twist.
If you believe in mother Earth, then come back and engage in intellectual discourse and physiological *********** where silent assassins are unable to infiltrate our borders.
Like a triple-x expressive disorder, I only have one question: Who is our assumed Emperor?
It's like a feline expression of extravagant and classical awareness.
So, how sealed is your fate within this lonely, yet busy road, of cosmic dualism?
Mysteries are dripping from your hair, like a conglomerate of tantalising expectations which yet remain to be unfulfilled.
Jun 20, 2016
Jun 20, 2016 at 12:33 AM UTC
there are
two worlds in this universe
- after spotting a u.f.o.
once i am sure:
a craft of pure light -
for if the circle has 360°,
and our world is encapsulated
by twenty four hours,
kabbalism sentences me to reveal
not that a = 1, b = 2 etc.
and as numerology to find meaning
in words based upon sums of sigma (Σ),
i just spotted: 2 + 4 = 6,
while 3 + 6 = 9
69
the symbol of the zodiac Pisces,
union in the B of linguistic symmetry,
hence the need for dualism
and the monotheism
of the Gemini god, should
polytheism of India fail
but as it stands, the American indians
failed, the red indians failed,
but the blue indians remained:
with the billion populace and Bollywood
and all the scents of cinnamon cardamon of tinted
copper skin;
basically accounting from the facts
of the π geometric facts,
our world is categorised as
completing rotation in 24 hours,
theirs in 36 hours.
Mar 3, 2016
Mar 3, 2016 at 11:47 AM UTC
**Laniakea
a late perception..Hawaiian immense heaven
a boundary moving outward with doubt that
this is the end limitation..
And in a contracting mood the Great Attractor
an inward pull and seeming declaration of
our locality our mortality..
Outward and inward
might we transcend this dualism
and experience the vibration
infinite and without locality
our true SELF...**
Mar 28, 2015
Mar 28, 2015 at 12:47 PM UTC
in most instances there is no real
criticism - just the debate as old
as the life of Aristotle, so lagging
behind modern liberty -
the deviations of the two extremes,
the nicely polished marble
and the coarse flint - a debate
concerning nouns -
one man will venture into marble
synonymousness -
another man will venture into
flint synonymousness - but still
the monism of saying one thing
adversely or conversely -
one layer on top of another,
like a wedding cake - sooner will
the adverse noun usage emerge -
sooner too will the converse noun
use emerge - and make battle for
what society is entitled to -
well, both! the pleasantries of the nouns
surrogate and mother, damnable
essentials of two homosexuals and
a ********** - i know, the former and
all the pleasantries and pigmented macaroons,
the latter and dirges and the dingy
back alley - one stands up for pleasantries
the other for the coarse mountain view -
one sees a mountain of the jagged panorama,
the other a normal distribution curve -
both have peaks, one's a woo *** slide on
your *** the other a carefully calculated
descent - so you wonder how certain words
are encoded to create a certain emotion -
one thing to understand a string of words:
do this do that, walk over here, walk over there -
and the other string of words:
feel this, feel that, think this, think that -
perplexing - mostly the dichotomy of seeing
and hearing - a dualism is an acceptance of
the two extremes as a constant -
a dichotomy is a lack of acceptance of the
two extremes, they are never consolidated -
dichotomy represents an active game of ping pong,
dualism represents: a ping pong table,
two ping pong rackets and a ping pong ball...
but no actual activity - dualism in theory,
dichotomy in practice.
Apr 9, 2016
Apr 9, 2016 at 9:35 AM UTC
such cruelty, but also kindness
startling beauty, baffling blindness
faithful in my fashion.
No to fatalism, no to indifference
Yes to vegetarianism, Silence, non-dualism
Great Compassion
Feb 3, 2019
Feb 3, 2019 at 7:36 PM UTC
Claire, what was the title?
What was the reaction?
They told me bricks had fallen to the ground, that it took a lot of blood, sweat, tears and heavy hammers to bring down the devil's den.
That foul fortress of despair and wonder
Forever enshrined within the hearts of silly sailors everywhere.
There was laughter buried within those walls
But secrets.
Pain and mystery called together
Your name was not Claire
Indeed I know of no Claire.
It's a constant discouragement, this inability to complete a sentence.
Dualism they say.
They say dualism.
They say "Oh, no good, no good" but what they really mean is "You don't appreciate all the good things you have" and what I really mean to say is that all the good things I have were stolen.
Guilt turns to brightly shining example.
When I was about your age I was out working for a good ten cent piece. Uncertainty is a plague that I've lived with
From the end to the beginning.
When all I really wanted to do was to blow your mind.
Today is nothing.
Everything expands from a moment in time I lived through many years ago.
It may be lying to me.
I am easily deceived.
Sep 10, 2015
Sep 10, 2015 at 4:45 PM UTC
*oh yeah... and i just spotted a crow pecking a pigeon's ***** with a pecker the size of an elephant's trunk... give it a 100,000 years and you'll see a new species... like that saying: when pigs grow wings.*
because the current theory of darwinism teaches
us we interbred with lesser species
and justifies ********** -
the dualism is horrid, i prefer parallelism -
parallelism and our own individual lives,
rather than mediating two extremes...
and indeed i prefer to think we were uniquely
classified from the start... but i guess there's
a fetish going around the joke about the welsh,
sheep and cliffs... i want to ask you:
when did **** insapiens emerge, or rather,
when did he actually manage to integrate
into our species with such subtleness
that we actually proclaimed some men mad
when they weren't, and assured ourselves
that some mad men were actually sane?
how to decipher this conundrum?
he did so... bringing us *** and other presents...
and indeed his identity will never be known;
indeed, who is this unhygienic brat?
Apr 1, 2016
Apr 1, 2016 at 8:24 PM UTC