"everywhen" poems
liminality;
barely there
ask if it matters
care if you dare
believe in impossibility
mind framing liminal spaces
places of liminal mind-frames
filaments between contexts
capturing subtleties as moths
liminally reaching inwards
map of a shady threshold
twilight netherworld border
between now & everywhen
cusp of crisp discovery
intangible as of late
liminal during daylight;
stars, fireflies, lanterns
night itself being liminal
colors need brightness
shadow for textures
whispering worlds
peripheral vision
vibes and feltsense
inner underworlds
embracing hell
reversing it
Oct 20, 2013
Oct 20, 2013 at 6:19 PM UTC
.
Rain fell in commotions—
The birds would have none of it,
The moon bellowed in ghostly white,
Faced in the sprite, ringing indifference
Of low fading stars, trees in posted dark
Scratched the grasslands of the fallen
Firmaments and the small creatures
That are holed up in days, scurried
With the creep of night and moan
Of oceans slide, mangled clouds
Clutched the murky burn of sky
And smallish eyes everywhen
Shuddered in the frosts
Of a shuttering rose.
.
Oct 31, 2018
Oct 31, 2018 at 5:51 PM UTC
If God exists
He or She knows All
Is Everywhere
And Everywhen
And lives beyond
Space and Time.
For so it is to be a God.
She is far too great
To concern herself
With this grain of sand
Lost in the vastness of our Multiverse.
Our words can’t hurt Her,
Maybe make Her smile at most,
Even as we take Her name in vain.
Our petty squabbles
Are but fights
Amongst the ants.
She Loves all Life,
Though some be sacrificed at times
For the Greater Good.
I ask you all
To open your mind
And see us through Her eyes.
She cannot want us
To martyr ourselves
Or **** those who are different
In race or creed.
She will not give us Heaven
If we sacrifice our lives
To **** Her creatures
That she made
With such magnificent grace.
Above all else She is a Loving God,
Cherishing ALL that Lives.
Forget the ancient histories
Of warring and strife.
NOW is where we are,
And now is the Time
For Love.
Paul Butters
Jul 6, 2015
Jul 6, 2015 at 5:42 AM UTC
Everything that is going to happen, has happened.
You are here and there and now and then even everywhen in everyhow, and of course if that is so then everywhere!
Thought!
The Then that thinks is Now, is then a Now that sees no There,
while a There without a Then is then impossible; Nowhere.
Now, the Now that is here-- not Then or There-- stands closer to the truth; Ever-presence, crystal clear.
Thesis!
All Objects are experiencing a unified long-term consciousness.
Experiment:
- Where are you? A room? A tube? A chair?
- Lift your eyes, become aware.
- Touch. Smell. Smear. Stare.
- Choose an Object (heavy/light, your delight)
- Now raise. Then drop. Place There.
Result-
Object experienced brief consciousness, albeit unaware (?). And YOU, an object in despair, with your Then and here and There-- your distance till this instance touted with fanfare!? The Distance!!
HA!!
Hoooomme...
Never ceasing...
Hoooomme...
Eternity...
Fact!
Nothing is Eternal.
Longevity, not brevity, captivates... more so, resonates. ..
Proof!
Time : Movement
God : Man
Time is infinite;
Movement a finite measure.
God, eternal subtle formless of form;
Man, a measure.
Aug 20, 2010
Aug 20, 2010 at 1:03 PM UTC
If I could, still, I would cry
A well of the tears of my Love for you
And taste the acrid waters
Of a depth great enough to soar
Transcending into the Sublime
The Infinite, The Beauty... off the grime.
But I cannot, anymore.
So I dwell into the Lack, of You
In an emptiness large enough to fill
Each, every and all of the Spaces
Between Here, Now, There, Then
Between You, I, and All...
Between Everywhere, and Everywhen.
-Emelit
Aug 7, 2018
Aug 7, 2018 at 10:58 AM UTC
i tend to mourn things as it happens
i’m too ahead of myself to be in the present
Sep 25, 2023
Sep 25, 2023 at 4:12 PM UTC
Now as you stand in armor chivalrous
And win by arms this castle all for us,
It feels as though I’ve kissed your lips before
And lost you to some other timeless war.
So when red peril spawns itself anew,
I know you’ll save me like you always do.
Our future vows wrap me in memory,
Embraced by souls and your eyes seamlessly.
Though still our fires flash and turn to shade,
And from our hearts eternity will fade,
Our ashes skim the pool of everywhen
To build the stars until we love again.
May 27, 2015
May 27, 2015 at 9:47 PM UTC
the ghosts of past poets peruse my prose.
"alliteration?, that was a cheap opening"
these shadows seep into my soul, showing
me the ways to silence the sirens inside;
through letters in words in lines in stanzas
through poems through syntax through imagery.
they led me down the road to a radio tower.
they let me go up it, to shout these words into
every ear of every man everywhere everywhen.
the ghosts, vanished
the people, terrified
the tower, toppled
the I? i am still
finding out.
where it is
that I
fell
to.
Nov 29, 2011
Nov 29, 2011 at 8:15 PM UTC
“And to his surprise, there were butterflies coming out of his mouth.”
--- --- --- ---
Quite literally, nothing is literal. Everything is a grain of salt in itself, and therefore no matter what we do or say or read or hear or exist, we all die of sodium poisoning. Is that a possible thing to do? Can we live, breathe, exist even if we ourselves are but a single grain of salt to be taken with other infinite grains of salt? Can a grain of salt itself die in general, let alone die of sodium poisoning?
Ah, sand, then? No, that can’t be any better. What about sugar? Absolutely not. What is everything, then, if not a grain of salt to be taken with another grain of salt, and another, and another?
An extended metaphor, maybe. How many grains of salt does it even take to create an extended metaphor, though? How does one measure such a strange volume? Would the measurements even be cubic? Volume? Area? What does an extended metaphor look like? A paragraph, I suppose, so that would be area. But how big would this paragraph be? Average? How big is the average paragraph, and how would anyone ever count the endless amount of paragraphs being written everywhere and everywhen? Further research is required.
I find myself wishing much more than I ever have, or ever should, that there existed any kind of salt-to-paragraphs conversion chart.
Aug 25, 2017
Aug 25, 2017 at 3:56 PM UTC
just need to keep asking
how long do you think it might be
until there's even a mote less agony in me
and i was once more wondering
what ******* year will i again get to be
anything even remotely like what was me
please please please pity my pleading
and promise that some eternity maybe
someone shall seal & heal these soul holes in me
oh look, he's back
poor pained poet
oh woe is me
whistle whining back down the track
poor pained poet
oh woe is me
fuckin' boo hoo
so she doesn't love you
just becuz she was The One
and without her dead is the sun
are we all supposed to suspend our lives
just because you'll never again be alive
NMFP
not my ******* problem
oh wait
i'm the broken boy begging
don't let it be too late
no-one else needs to care
about the shredded regrets i share
but that don't diminish the damage
from landing on the razor
after being thrown over the edge
shhhhh
don't wake him up
he hates waking up
cuz he had a breakdown?
fuckin duh!
thrown from heaven to the ground,
uh, broken, duh
(did i mention the ground was spikes,
serrated poison-dripping spikes)
dead but unable to die
death-breath-kiss in every way that matters
but not allowed to die
just destined to be bleeding amongst the shatters
why must i wake up again
every god **** everywhen
without Shannon
Jun 7, 2014
Jun 7, 2014 at 6:48 AM UTC
Rain fell in commotions—
The birds would have none of it,
The moon bellowed in ghostly white,
Faced in the sprite, ringing indifference
Of low fading stars, trees in posted dark
Scratched the grasslands of the fallen
Firmaments and the small creatures
That are holed up in days, scurried
With the creep of night and moan
Of oceans slide, mangled clouds
Clutched the murky burn of sky
And smallish eyes everywhen
Shuddered in the frosts
Of a shuttering rose.
Nov 1, 2014
Nov 1, 2014 at 9:31 PM UTC
hold the line
thread of life
everywhen
timeless encounters
visions and dreams
keep me moving
one more day
Jul 14, 2013
Jul 14, 2013 at 7:45 PM UTC
As far as I'm concerned
Your sexuality means nothing
To me --> No effect; no affect!
Know thyself and be content -
Your happiness is beside the point.
Your Life - Live it as you wish;
Just don't try to force me
To subscribe to your way
Of Life if I'm not interested.
Good luck to you - have fun:
Your fingers; your tongue;
Your ck and your ct;
Your brain --> use it 4 pleasure.
I'm hedonistic to believe
That what goes around
Eventually **** everywhere,
Everywhen and everytime.
So...go f**k yourselves!
(In a good way, or not...Freedom!)
Mar 7, 2014
Mar 7, 2014 at 5:16 PM UTC