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"ence" poems
Sometimes                   siLence                              is                                 thE                                      key                                          which                                                   unlocks                                                               The                                                                   gate                                                                         keeping                                                                                      one                                                                                           from                                                                                                  findinG                                                                                                              peace                                                                                                                       and                                                                                                                              a                                                                                                                                 sOundness                                                                                                                                                     of                                                                                                                                                          mind.
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Jan 18, 2013
Jan 18, 2013 at 3:01 AM UTC
Noise Pollution
Sometimes                   siLence                              is                                 thE                                      key                                          which                                                   unlocks                                                               The                                                                   gate                                                                         keeping                                                                                      one                                                                                           from                                                                                                  findinG                                                                                                              peace                                                                                                                       and                                                                                                                              a                                                                                                                                 sOundness                                                                                                                                                     of                                                                                                                                                          mind.
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19
Silence. That’s the First thing you Can hear. The sil Ence is just so loud, So real, so close, so true, What everyone needs sometimes. That’s my favourite part of being there, Underwater. The world passes away, and You can hear yourself thinking again. You can just simply: Be. For once. The feeling of oblivion, the pressure of Unreleased air, the escaping Bubbles to the top Of the pool, ocean, lake, The clear water with sunlight Shining through the depths till it Reaches you, the feeling of Oneness with the world Its past, its present Its uncertain future, the Feeling that everything will be okay No matter how hard it seems now. The Feeling of weightlessness as your hair undulates Through the clear water, your body buoyant, your mind Finally clear. The stillness that overtakes your very Soul as you stay at the bottom, holding on with All your might, not wanting the moment To ever pass, knowing it has to even As you hope you can breathe, Impossible as it seems. The stillness Permeating every aspect of your being, from Your previously weighed down limbs to your dancing Hair to your stressed mind to your frazzled soul, giving the Much needed calm from a busy day. Pushing off the Depths, feeling the sunlight get stronger, the sur Face grow closer, feeling the nostalgia to your Second home where you can see clearly, Even with your eyes shut tight, your Breath held. Where you are you. Underwater.
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May 17, 2012
May 17, 2012 at 9:42 PM UTC
Underwater
the warrior way is becoming anew boiling up and down our spines we all feel the surges some pretend they don't hear it the warrior knows the rules of the game the warrior knows the way the light always leads home. the call is growing louder day after day after you call it by many names give it energy that bounds your warrior ways the warrior to survive the pump of your heart. when we begin, we are focused many things alter perspective when we live we are love the singular subject. love can only create again defining lines fading… erase them, foolish time spent focused on the diff er ence we are warriors of a heart beat energy forced out repeatedly, constantly, until it stops, suddenly. love returned above and below to create again. the warrior tribe is coming… they are calling, crawling, gripping, groping, WE are tipping and tapping singing and dancing, walking side by side, a long line of warriors, walking side by side. we're coming...
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Oct 27, 2015
Oct 27, 2015 at 4:28 PM UTC
warrior 2
Speakin’ in general, I’ave tried ’em all The ‘appy roads that take you o’er the world. Speakin’ in general, I’ave found them good For such as cannot use one bed too long, But must get ‘ence, the same as I’ave done, An’ go observin’ matters till they die. What do it matter where or ‘ow we die, So long as we’ve our ‘ealth to watch it all— The different ways that different things are done, An’ men an’ women lovin’ in this world; Takin’ our chances as they come along, An’ when they ain’t, pretendin’ they are good? In cash or credit—no, it aren’t no good; You’ve to ‘ave the ‘abit or you’d die, Unless you lived your life but one day long, Nor didn’t prophesy nor fret at all, But drew your tucker some’ow from the world, An’ never bothered what you might ha’ done. But, Gawd, what things are they I’aven’t done? I’ve turned my ‘and to most, an’ turned it good, In various situations round the world For ‘im that doth not work must surely die; But that’s no reason man should labour all ‘Is life on one same shift—life’s none so long. Therefore, from job to job I’ve moved along. Pay couldn’t ‘old me when my time was done, For something in my ‘ead upset it all, Till I’ad dropped whatever ’twas for good, An’, out at sea, be’eld the dock-lights die, An’ met my mate—the wind that tramps the world! It’s like a book, I think, this bloomin, world, Which you can read and care for just so long, But presently you feel that you will die Unless you get the page you’re readi’n’ done, An’ turn another—likely not so good; But what you’re after is to turn’em all. Gawd bless this world! Whatever she’oth done— Excep’ When awful long—I’ve found it good. So write, before I die, ” ‘E liked it all!”
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2.4k
Sestina Of The Tramp-Royal
Speakin’ in general, I’ave tried ’em all The ‘appy roads that take you o’er the world. Speakin’ in general, I’ave found them good For such as cannot use one bed too long, But must get ‘ence, the same as I’ave done, An’ go observin’ matters till they die. What do it matter where or ‘ow we die, So long as we’ve our ‘ealth to watch it all— The different ways that different things are done, An’ men an’ women lovin’ in this world; Takin’ our chances as they come along, An’ when they ain’t, pretendin’ they are good? In cash or credit—no, it aren’t no good; You’ve to ‘ave the ‘abit or you’d die, Unless you lived your life but one day long, Nor didn’t prophesy nor fret at all, But drew your tucker some’ow from the world, An’ never bothered what you might ha’ done. But, Gawd, what things are they I’aven’t done? I’ve turned my ‘and to most, an’ turned it good, In various situations round the world For ‘im that doth not work must surely die; But that’s no reason man should labour all ‘Is life on one same shift—life’s none so long. Therefore, from job to job I’ve moved along. Pay couldn’t ‘old me when my time was done, For something in my ‘ead upset it all, Till I’ad dropped whatever ’twas for good, An’, out at sea, be’eld the dock-lights die, An’ met my mate—the wind that tramps the world! It’s like a book, I think, this bloomin, world, Which you can read and care for just so long, But presently you feel that you will die Unless you get the page you’re readi’n’ done, An’ turn another—likely not so good; But what you’re after is to turn’em all. Gawd bless this world! Whatever she’oth done— Excep’ When awful long—I’ve found it good. So write, before I die, ” ‘E liked it all!”
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39
From here and there I hear him speak His voice, falling in mild whispers But he always plays hide n’ seek At times he speaks loud n’ clear Sometimes so harsh and stern How he denies my wild longings With a stubborn ‘Yes’ or ‘No’ What magic and mystery in him stored I am at a loss to gauge Amid the shards of my broken sleep I often struggle to decipher his mysterious codes I sought after him ever and ever Down the nights and through the days Taking him to be one from the dead, I searched him through avenues dark Along aisles of the dead lain in rows And in the hallways of fame But he eluded me like a mysterious sprite Prancing around and hiding about When I give up my search after him He shouts and whistles amid the din And I see faint truths suddenly uncoiling Forming in me a clearer perspective of life At the end of my incessant search I chanced to meet him within my own self Peering into my depths, I saw him, his face veiled And a balance held obliquely in his hands Lifting the veil from his countenance I saw him clear, clear as in a mirror Someone with such commanding air And stern with an impassive demeanor In the still pool of humid silence I heard him introduce himself His sound ringing so distinct and clear Leaving echoes in the hall of stillness “I am CON- SCI-ENCE, Your alter ego Listen to me, you shall not stray’’!
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Jun 12, 2017
Jun 12, 2017 at 9:28 AM UTC
A Mysterious Voice
We almost made it Hence the word almost You left with no trace Do you regret leaving? I am a mess without you Don't pretend we were nothing You promised you'd be there for me Only me Unfortunately, you lied Liquor is now your replacement Eating seems pointless After you left, everything lost meaning Volcano meets tornado Erase my foolishness Maybe I still love you Even now, when you don't deserve it ?
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Mar 27, 2017
Mar 27, 2017 at 2:06 PM UTC
Almost
It's built to be a Dollhouse so no one would fathom what treasures lay inside *No judgement or hesitations could be formed & those coming out would stay untried* *Unpredictable's crazy sister runs the place She's truly endearing-- In the rare case she doesn't sense your* Exposed fears seething *But no worries going in! As long as your tendencies aren't combative and your head's outta your *** and your phone's outta your fac*e You'll be posthaste to a resonating rever*ence for this wonderfully eccentric/benevolently psychotic place As long as you play nice, you won't have any deadly problems* At the Dollhouse Asylum
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Feb 5, 2018
Feb 5, 2018 at 12:46 AM UTC
Your Local Dollhouse Asylum
How scenic, the view of the city from this rooftop. But I've seen it all before. I'm really looking for a new spot. I've done it all yet i still need time, Kind of like a new clock, i even met the devil once, Had Jimmy Choos and a blue top.. but just when i want to leave, i remember why i stay. I remember all the cracks on the concrete i see by day. And every crack has the potential to grow a stem. Kind of like every person has the potential to grab a pen. And the most inspiring of moments is when a rose blossoms. the thorns might be thick, and the scent might be off some.. the petals might be thin, but its still looking awesome. Do you follow my story? Can you grasp my allegory? Can you understand why I revel in this garden i see before me?. You may just see cracks, a street needing a fix... But I'm in total bliss speaking life into exist-...ence hence, The reason my view will never get old.. long live the rose that grew, regardless of what it was told.. -afj.
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Nov 20, 2014
Nov 20, 2014 at 12:10 AM UTC
cracks on the concrete.
I'd write you every second in this life that I have lived you're present in my thoughts much more than I have ever been With all of these illusions and the subtleties I see I found you in the presence of the things that I believe you struck me as a question I had never thought to ask and left me with a longing for tomorrows that have passed It doesn't make much sense, today is crippling my head but what is this existence if you're gone, asleep or dead I'm only ever sorry for the words I did not say afraid of what they'd do because I couldn't get away I kept you in a corner til you learned to disappear and I would go in search of you to see if you were near But keeping up your distance, I could only take a chance for none of this resembles the extent of our romance I'd put you in my pocket or forget that you were there we could have been together but I lost you in a stare
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Dec 27, 2015
Dec 27, 2015 at 8:50 PM UTC
What staring contest?
im alone in a world of chaos my own little world my mother hates me my father doesn't seem to see they're blind to the fact that they're only daughter hates who she is and is being slaughtered by tools used to shave legs and she begs and begs silently screaming and dreaming about a life she can never imagine because her mothers actions settle upon her thoughts and eats her heart because her brain is already numb its like a game that you don't want to play trying win but always thinking you'll never be victorious with her feelings notorious, and her emotions along with the notion of untitled devotion floating around trying to find the light that she hasn't seen but shines so bright its like waking up with plastic over your face and her fathers still in his own race at his own ******* pace wanting to go away but to afraid to run breathing so hard she wants to faint the voice in her head says shes almost done because she can't keep fighting this war between dealing with her own battles and being at your convien-- ence shes sick and it'll dawn on you once shes actually gone shes angry craving affection from her idol whos starting to lose the title all for the **** he can't find and the daughter and the ex wife he can't define Shes been mentally abused by her mother who claims shes fat Shes been rejected by that boy who acts like her feelings are nothing but a ******* toy then I think, one day I'll be fine one day
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Dec 23, 2013
Dec 23, 2013 at 8:51 PM UTC
They'll be sorry
Unravel me with words unspoken Because I know the only way You’ll take me is naked. Overlook a thousand Different ways I’d change your mind. And I’ll keep drafting all of the endings That might be. And you’ll keep using me. Because you know I am the only Thing I have left to give. Empty of words to plead, My body can scream: “I’ll still love you. Not even a little less.”
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Oct 3, 2018
Oct 3, 2018 at 11:57 PM UTC
abs(tinent)ence
These words are the droolings of ruminate thought outworn                              d                              ri                              p                              d                              ri                             ppi                              ng                             into                             exist                             ence                               on                                a                      barren plane                      to be w i  p   e    d     a   w    a    y         through a careless flick                                                                                                    Unnoticed          except as the byproduct of some failed attempt at grand thought                         without purpose, without substance,                          it is absorbed through atmosphere                                        and it is gone.
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Jan 18, 2012
Jan 18, 2012 at 2:26 AM UTC
untitled work not in progress
These words are the droolings of ruminate thought outworn                              d                              ri                              p                              d                              ri                             ppi                              ng                             into                             exist                             ence                               on                                a                      barren plane                      to be w i  p   e    d     a   w    a    y         through a careless flick                                                                                                    Unnoticed          except as the byproduct of some failed attempt at grand thought                         without purpose, without substance,                          it is absorbed through atmosphere                                        and it is gone.
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23
— neglect and respect do not rhyme, **{will grant you one, will give you none. will demand one, will send you some. you poets, always thinking you can get away with murdering the English language. ***** of assonance, you do not fool me, I’ve killed a thousand men’s “original”rhymes, while you’ve been fast sleeping, they’ve been fast seeping. I’ll give you no quarter, won’t spare a lousy dime, my spare change, is poet-unaffordable, cheap suited hucksters. work and **** do rhyme.   you can be one, if you do not put in some. work by day, slave by night. awake to the sun’s inquiry, what have you done for me lately? IF all you have to show is this scribbilus miscellaneous, tear up your lice-ence, poetic and DMV, you ain’t going nowhere. was branded by hot iron, early on, brandy channing. your best nightmare, guidance counselor, extraordinaire, great big fairie, poseur, exposer, m u r d e r e r of awful poetry}** WHAT,   what do you stand for?
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Jun 26, 2020
Jun 26, 2020 at 3:34 PM UTC
neglect and respect do not rhyme/what do you stand for?
[for Pradip] Poet, you wish for a sunshine poem... Rainbows, you know, are the ones you bring. All hearted, in loneliness, you walk your path Disclosing unexpected beauty, words painting Infinite music in aquarelle lights, Picturing, for us, love for worldly mankind. Consider, thus, Poet, that your Humming song, of sweet tones, Across the skies draws the Tangible alliance of Tolerance Oh, and understanding, Poet! Awaken in our hearts, Driven by good will, Hence on empathy, Yauld is our looking Ahead and around, with You.
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Sep 16, 2014
Sep 16, 2014 at 9:40 PM UTC
Ode
Con fide ence cadence Semper fi, I the ego in the narrator making wu wei from around in to out a bit, this to that as we know we grew, we know we grow spontaneity- eh, next next next time not this time, mmmm ------------ in the body sense of other, this is the I they say ego is the enemy, love thy enemy, I say schwahng-dong- ting tang walla walla bing **** be the laugh and be the clown, fret not, this is that all at once upsidedowninsideout in a word we are wedom in the sense the wu wei wei we are making this up, not making this up we are shown as we were I once doing the efforting, wishing to become old and happy, all my prayers answered in enough and enough to share with no sorrow added as debt see me see me see you see me clever and proud of how fun the giggle is as song, comfort the feeble mind, it too is mine, let me rest in the joy of having this time as mine, in the global reality lit with power that powers this body using fingers to find letters to let words form from better ideas, bet. Put your money down, opposing forces, from within, we never were as those who fit the mould of a place native to us, our kind, not that kind, this kind, be kind, love, be loving think this is friendly, no aggressive faces made, no blush of rage, perhaps, yes, haps, here we pursued, but we ensued peace after passing all we include in me the body… and the mind that runs it and the mind that knows it, so from the top of my head to the bottom of my feet, I accept is in state, in the body, I can say, I am in the body and I have magic, given as "black box" think what one can make given the means to fret not, not a bit o'worry brain, think up a storm find a way to fill the need, felt real, real empty, useless, in terms of the whole truth, really useless, what do I know, I know I lie about how happy I would be if next time you could sing wit'me. Who has a head empty of will to wonder if we can think we can can we think we can and be happy when we think we dodidonitdonit seem we may as well take a given grin and invest it in the hope, that someday your day gets, better to specs, regularly reset to random, wei, wu wei. We, me.
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Sep 17, 2021
Sep 17, 2021 at 12:11 AM UTC
Good as an act, gooding would be
Con fide ence cadence Semper fi, I the ego in the narrator making wu wei from around in to out a bit, this to that as we know we grew, we know we grow spontaneity- eh, next next next time not this time, mmmm ------------ in the body sense of other, this is the I they say ego is the enemy, love thy enemy, I say schwahng-dong- ting tang walla walla bing **** be the laugh and be the clown, fret not, this is that all at once upsidedowninsideout in a word we are wedom in the sense the wu wei wei we are making this up, not making this up we are shown as we were I once doing the efforting, wishing to become old and happy, all my prayers answered in enough and enough to share with no sorrow added as debt see me see me see you see me clever and proud of how fun the giggle is as song, comfort the feeble mind, it too is mine, let me rest in the joy of having this time as mine, in the global reality lit with power that powers this body using fingers to find letters to let words form from better ideas, bet. Put your money down, opposing forces, from within, we never were as those who fit the mould of a place native to us, our kind, not that kind, this kind, be kind, love, be loving think this is friendly, no aggressive faces made, no blush of rage, perhaps, yes, haps, here we pursued, but we ensued peace after passing all we include in me the body… and the mind that runs it and the mind that knows it, so from the top of my head to the bottom of my feet, I accept is in state, in the body, I can say, I am in the body and I have magic, given as "black box" think what one can make given the means to fret not, not a bit o'worry brain, think up a storm find a way to fill the need, felt real, real empty, useless, in terms of the whole truth, really useless, what do I know, I know I lie about how happy I would be if next time you could sing wit'me. Who has a head empty of will to wonder if we can think we can can we think we can and be happy when we think we dodidonitdonit seem we may as well take a given grin and invest it in the hope, that someday your day gets, better to specs, regularly reset to random, wei, wu wei. We, me.
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67
And while we are in Conversation here So many humans Have expired, I fear...   Each moment brings New life and new death Final words spoken And baby’s first breath   Life’s currents unbearable Meand’ring through confluence The sublime and the terrible Don’t know their own consequence   The rush and the curve Create oxbow crescents The vim and‪ the verve‬ Ensure each one’s presence   And all we can do Is react and observe (Our own bent deeds too) And endeavor to serve   Either the self That glutton of grease Or somebody else And attain inner peace Or at least a brief break From worry and strife Hold on to the harness, take Joy in this life!
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Feb 9, 2018
Feb 9, 2018 at 2:33 PM UTC
Stream
I was the biggest detective ever who had lost a case never The only wish that I ever had Was to have a nemesis Worth my fad Then there was a killer A serial killer Who went by a pen name He thought he was great But for me, he was very lame I waited for the time to come To solve the perfect conundrum Every piece of puzzle that I ever solved Would help me catch the self-claimed God! I worked my way through Stayed awake even in my sleep Let the devil creep By my side Let it glide In my pursuit of The Real Devil Who wanted to work against nature's will! At last I found him in person I would have loved to see him in prison All my hypotheses All my probabilities Of identifying him as the criminal Were heading to closure! The day had neared The time that shouldn't have come, he feared The result was just here, for my self imposed penance All was laid to rest, in a moment of si(L)ence!!!!
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Dec 8, 2017
Dec 8, 2017 at 1:04 AM UTC
Si(L)ence - Death Note!
in and out the body breathes it will all be okay the body needs this too will pass the body frees just shrug it off anxiety in and out in and out in and out i can't make it go away anxiety wins for there is no reason for its exist -ence it just is inside make it stop in and out in and out hold me and breathe in and out in and out touch me and breath in comes the love and out out out goes the anxiety
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May 11, 2012
May 11, 2012 at 11:37 PM UTC
Breathe
aware of some things, aware HERE am I there you are near and far and nothing in between, why should I care, beware… It's me, in this world, it's me, making up my mind, to live on, to live on to leave behind me, for you - a way to go, if you really wish to follow, if you truly hold the hope of ever being better than right now, now. Right, not wrong, right now. You know. You think you know, right now, with no miracles, no little things to see, with no joy felt shared, with no sorrow shown in tears, with no feet a dancin' up on tippy toes, just a spinnin' in time, like a planet or a star, loopin' life in time, from somewhere inside, center of heavy of hard of dark and cold… dark and cold… singer… singer singing wordlessly, la las and mmmhmmms, so so so lighten up, lighten up my will to be worthy, lighten up my will to be care free, lighten up my will to be loved, by strangers who imagine I have loosed some good in some shape, loosed some good held out of sight, strange as not cognized, coknown, to me and you, the other end of these lines left to prove, a second thought… if you make joy, peace remains enjoyable, no mass converts to energy, my taken peace, my inspiration never expires, each time I miss, I miss nothing I hit on another decision to make. I laugh, and let out long rambles, through brambles familiar to creatures built low to the ground at the human being being being more than… Partaker of the programming. Snipping Re-ligamental knots, religious at-here- ence sense so common to all here, re- filtered feeling manufactured, here in living words translatable, peaceable, easy to use while defusing the confusion, and allowing angelic angst ambitious umph, committed, chance fret naught, take the shot, think thirty aught six, BANG Big, nothing like the game, recoil that's what's missing… recoil, kick, to remind you what Newton knew. Not Issac, Fred Newton, from Weedpatch, Ca, a few miles this side of Bakersfield… He, comes up around Thanksgiving, in the spirit now, since he's dead, he looks at me and grins, so big. For me to live, that  turkey must die. old fisher of men, he knew, he'd say a man's remembered, for the shot, no turkey ever is, that's something to be thankful for.
0
Nov 19, 2024
Nov 19, 2024 at 2:43 PM UTC
Happy Not Knowing Everything Day
aware of some things, aware HERE am I there you are near and far and nothing in between, why should I care, beware… It's me, in this world, it's me, making up my mind, to live on, to live on to leave behind me, for you - a way to go, if you really wish to follow, if you truly hold the hope of ever being better than right now, now. Right, not wrong, right now. You know. You think you know, right now, with no miracles, no little things to see, with no joy felt shared, with no sorrow shown in tears, with no feet a dancin' up on tippy toes, just a spinnin' in time, like a planet or a star, loopin' life in time, from somewhere inside, center of heavy of hard of dark and cold… dark and cold… singer… singer singing wordlessly, la las and mmmhmmms, so so so lighten up, lighten up my will to be worthy, lighten up my will to be care free, lighten up my will to be loved, by strangers who imagine I have loosed some good in some shape, loosed some good held out of sight, strange as not cognized, coknown, to me and you, the other end of these lines left to prove, a second thought… if you make joy, peace remains enjoyable, no mass converts to energy, my taken peace, my inspiration never expires, each time I miss, I miss nothing I hit on another decision to make. I laugh, and let out long rambles, through brambles familiar to creatures built low to the ground at the human being being being more than… Partaker of the programming. Snipping Re-ligamental knots, religious at-here- ence sense so common to all here, re- filtered feeling manufactured, here in living words translatable, peaceable, easy to use while defusing the confusion, and allowing angelic angst ambitious umph, committed, chance fret naught, take the shot, think thirty aught six, BANG Big, nothing like the game, recoil that's what's missing… recoil, kick, to remind you what Newton knew. Not Issac, Fred Newton, from Weedpatch, Ca, a few miles this side of Bakersfield… He, comes up around Thanksgiving, in the spirit now, since he's dead, he looks at me and grins, so big. For me to live, that  turkey must die. old fisher of men, he knew, he'd say a man's remembered, for the shot, no turkey ever is, that's something to be thankful for.
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86
It's  me The sense of mind Full with rubbish--ence Forgotten the essence Messing the peasants with peace Making the peace to piece But Its  funny Its cozy Its sady Vs Moody Its all the walk of time
0
Dec 12, 2018
Dec 12, 2018 at 8:42 AM UTC
A write on road
Being in time, to be judged for being well and good, or good for nothing, after all's been said and done, and the books been balanced, so be lived, on the edge of realization, in mere if on occasions, mere instant of mere what if. Yah, the happy ifery everwas, once, told, told to all the children, in the world, by the likes of traveling salvation shows, everybody knows, everybody don't -0- reality starts at one, not zero don't tell me your scripture told you true, no, don't come to my wedom, and pretend to know enough to say you know what I mean, general I, any mind's I, is the I a' habit, ritual morning washings and mind windings, set, ready to say what the preacher man say, say that, Yeah, like, yah, he know, word. Manifest festive tests of mere concentrated will to make a perfect Dirac one, from a perfect Schrödinger one, and call it just what I said. The point of everything that pierces anything any wall. Any sign says This is it, no where to go from where you …. went, on second thoughts Plancksecs in duration, sub instant, so fast the point is pastless. Forget it. This is it.
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Feb 22, 2024
Feb 22, 2024 at 7:44 PM UTC
Co-here-ence
I've always jumped-right-in with both shoes And/maybe/that's the dif. fer. ence Maybe; I, need to learn to swim
0
Dec 26, 2015
Dec 26, 2015 at 9:33 PM UTC
treading water