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Sindi Kay Oct 2018
Preserve the past in me
Like a mummy I’ll bring my riches
to another world


My sabatoge is your secret weapon.

-Sindi Kafazi
KCibot May 11
Humanity sometimes evolves
much like time
non-linearly

Me:
Chimp
Baby Girl
Ghost
Baby Boy
Rat
Human
Mushroom
Butterfly
Tree
Ghost
Bunny
....
Banana?
..­..
Spiderham???
What About U?
My divulging outcries should
match the anguished weeks we've had. I've deceived all of
you with obscured replies, and now this distrustful person
I am is hard to understand. But you see, I can't decipher myself,
for I'm a traveler of my own heartbreak. A nomad without a map, searching for this knack to surviving. Deserted on scattered land, and each fighting "I'm okay" evolves me more lost. An unsolvable destination to which discovered, I may uncover a pumping, breathing new body and fresh spirit clean of a blemished memory. Deprived and striving; I'm holding on for that revival of flared hope, to where I cope with these thoughts in a better way. How long can you
thrive on nothing?
Will I last today?
----------------------
I hold everything in, and then I break. No one gets what I'm feeling, because it usually happens a long time beforehand.
KCibot May 14
Humanity sometimes evolves
much like time
non-linearly

Me:
Chimp
Baby Girl
Ghost
Baby Boy
Rat
Human
Mushroom
Butterfly
Tree
Ghost
Banana
Bunny
Egg
Snak­e
Monkey              Elephant
Witch                       Angel
Robotnick                Sonic
Ryan                          Evie
U?
Love Unlocks
And I
Evolve
Revolutionary the heart
Evolves to change
Lost
The old charm
Glenn Currier Jul 2018
Songs are threads that reach beyond
mortal matter of the planet’s bond
springing often unexpected  
like diamonds angel-selected.

Sounds from spirit spun in sky
half's and quarters low and high
enter our waiting souls
and linger there to make us whole.

Music soars beyond the flesh
reforms the old into fresh
hearing tones the artist composes
is breathing in a rally of roses.

Listening to music involves,
prepares, changes and evolves
it makes our humanity better
it is a sweet ethereal eternal treasure.

Written 7-23-18
This morning I was listening to Willie Nelson’s new song: “Something You Get Through.”  I’ve always loved his voice and even now this old man seems to be evolving, his voice is crackling a bit, but still he is cracked open by some incomprehensible creative force.  I have to think it is partly or mostly music itself.  This song, from this old soul, transported me as music often does.  I was no longer just waking up in my home on a Monday morning.  I was somewhere else.
Pyrrha Jul 2018
Crawling through my brain till it has made channels connecting to tunnels like little circuits replacing my nerves, the little worm I call Loneliness wriggles onward.

A constant motion of forward goes that worm, bringing with it a never ending feeling of monachopsis.
Day after day it dwells in my mind as the worm carries on.

It adapts and evolves finding a solution to every mastermind plot I find from removing this creature, this beast, this worm from my mind.

“Friendship is betrayal, they all leave and deceive in the end,” it whispers through my head as if another conscience inside my being.

I fear the worms words and obey every command. Dare I disobey what dismay would come my way?

“Happiness is a lie along with perfection, never trace your hands along such deadly lines, the lines of which a mortal mind should never tread,” he says using my beliefs against me. “Happiness is for those who belong, not for you, never for you!”

The worm screams those words through my mind anytime I laugh or smile reminding me not to be so daft.

Oh beautiful, wonderful,brilliant demon of mine.
Keeping me from trying to find ways to end the suffering in my life

Morbid torment in the back of my mind,
Keeping me from trying to find ways to silence the loneliness screaming within, bringing me further into the dark.

What would I do without you, dear Loneliness?
You cloud my mind and free me from my foolish desires.

Why should I not be alone?
If I was meant to feel together,
Then together surely I would feel.

Why should I feel happiness when happiness isn’t mine?
How selfish I would be without you holy creature,
Beautiful blessed worm of wonder.
Monachopsis- A subtle yet persistent feeling of not belonging
This is one of the first poems I wrote this year, it's what reminded me of why I love poetry. It provides a place to hold my thoughts.
Janelle Mainly Jun 2018
A spectrum of words,
hurled in every direction of the world.
A melody passed down through generations.
It evolves to the tongue of the old and the young,
Like a song that wants to be sung.
The eternal life of communication.
ohellobeautiful Oct 2018
i'm not sure
who planted this seed
inside all of our heads
whispering quietly

”stop feeling so much"

who made the assumption
that feelings = weakness?
because those two terms
have never been seamless

to dip into your depths
with no feelings oppressed
takes the kind of courage
most fear cant be fed

weakness evolves
from putting all of
your energy into
building up
the walls
that block
the flow of life
that was meant
to move you
further into the
depths of the you
you didn’t know
you never knew

to feel
and i mean,
to really feeeel
every ounce of this
human experience
comes with a bravery
that most resist

it breaks you apart
shakes you down
uprooting all
that’s been

to guide you
from within

to let this life
overcome you
with whatever
emotions
it may,
while being
proud of it too?

now, that
is strength

that is the
weakness
pouring
out of
you

James Floss Jan 13
“It’s fraught,” he said.
BOOM! Wrong pronoun
They would disapprove

“We should…”
BOOM! Not us…
BOOM! Not me!

They them us
He she we
I myself me

Redefined reassign
People can change
In an instant or a lifetime

Language evolves
Evolution is slow
Give it time to grow
Love is not constant
It is always born again
It does not change it evolves
Bits encoded with failure and pain
Transfer to make for stronger foundation
Love does not die
It is killed
You can love someone who hates you
But you can't love someone you hate
For hate is the absence of love
Absence caused by death
Death caused, by absence
In this case.

-Luca Ivaldi
Mark Dec 2018
The turn of Spring aligns this love of mine
a winter glaze of lonely sleet dissolves
and splay the buds towards the golden shine
as snowy drops, her namesake fair evolves.

Each rose with mirrored red have toned her blush
that greeted from the whispered words of love
on petals kiss and hue then spread this crush
rebirthing eyes from out the cold above.

The Tulips worship skies with loving glow
as tho' in stem and reach implants my heart
and rainbow gloss as such that they do know
with all the hope and promised Summer start.

So call love Spring as I have cause to gleam
restoring life that once had none beseem.
John Prophet Jul 13
Old ways.
Old ways of
thinking.
Primitive ways.
Thinking
derived out of
fear, ignorance.
Still being
believed.
A new age,
with new
ideas,
new realities,
sweeping it
all away.
All away In
a flash of
enlightenment.
Old generations
replaced by
new generations.
New ideas
replace
the old.
Global mind,
evolves.
Evolves
a new reality.
Unifying thought,
reality.
Fear,
replaced with
wonderment.
New
understandings
shining the
light on the
dark places.
The dark places
of the past.
The primitive
enlightened.
Eyes open,
open in a
new place.
In a flash
the dark ages
replaced by
a new world.
A new world
free, cleansed
of fear.
Herb Apr 5
For better or worse
It's the omen's curse
No use to rehearse
Fortunes in reverse

Bad tidings are loose
The world's neck in a noose
For those too obtuse
Explanation, no use

Ashes on your head
The enemy is Dread
By Ignorance it is fed
To Mystery it is wed

Pray if you must
Your dreams are a bust
They lay in the dust
Decaying to rust

There's only bad luck
In Limbo you're stuck
Feet mired in the muck
Reality has struck

Will misfortunes lift?
As the heavens shift
The Sands of Time sift
To seal the Dark Rift

Earth still revolves
The future evolves
And danger devolves
As lunacy resolves

Wait out the pain
Full moon will wane
Insanity turns sane
Peace you'll regain
The Beast Within by noronradss55

My heart bleeds for the innocent
that were slaughtered. And I find
little rest beneath a full moon light.

For there Is little doubt that the beast
will once again be unleashed on this
ominus night, devouring victim upon
victim who attempt to take flight.

This centuries old curse won't stay
locked inside, not strong enough
to battle It's will to survive.When
the full moon rises my body evolves
bringing the Monster completely alive.

With little memory of It's murderous
wrath, just a trail of blood and bodies
litter my path. My cowardly attemps
to end it all have taken two many lives
and now before the full moon rises the
Beast must fall.

Placing a pistol to my temple Silver
bullet locked in, can't pull the trigger
can't stop the Beast Within.
Graff1980 Nov 2018
There is a longing,
a deep-seated human instinct
that pushes us in to meet
strange people.

Strangely,
technology
has turned me
into a peeper,
legally voyeuristic
with strangers
I have never visited.

I have the delusion
of a connection
because of some
social media intrusion;
Which means
I don’t have to
have a friend
introduce me to them.

I can just chat them up
or watch them
from a cyber distance
with a binary connection
of ones and zeros.

So, this human need
to interact and meet
strangers who are
similar and unique
is satisfied
without any risk
of rejection.

But this is an illusion,
despite my intrusion
I do not know them,

and as this
tacky techiness
evolves
we will
stay secluded in
our sic soft shadows
without actually connecting…
to….to…
User----Offline.
Inday Sep 2018
If I were to write it would be about the women next door,
Or the child who sits alone in the school corridor.


If I were to write it would be about my dear friend
Whose secrets I know, whose heart knows no end.

If I were to write it would be about my mother
Her soft words of optimism, oh how I love her.

If I were to write it would be about my baby son.
As he grows, he will grow to learn the man he'll become.

I would write of my sister
Her brave face, her calm grace. In the dark she shines lighter.

I would write of my husband
The way we love and fight like a boat in a storm.
I wish he could keep me in his arms.

If I were to write I would write about heartbreak,
Because I know it too well and the sound that it makes.


If I were to write I would write about hope,
Because the boy left with nothing has to find ways to cope.

If I were to write It would be about goodbyes,
The walls people build, but you can see it in their eyes.

If I were to write, I'd try to write about what out loud I can't say.  

Even though I fear I won't put it into words properly.

I know life evolves but I stay still anyway,

And I'm scared  that my mind is eroding away.
Amy Childers Jan 20
The selenophile stares solemnly at the beautiful Selene.
His long lost love hidden somewhere in that celestial body
Surrounded by darkness, dashes of the stars, and the dust of gods.
One eternity evolves effortlessly into two watching his wandering wife
In the mourning midnight blue sky.

Her ethereal skin,
Her cherubic lips,
Her sublime locks extending beyond the stars,
For all the world to see
And for all to adore.

The selenophile stares solemnly at the beautiful Luna.
His fair silvery sister hidden in that satellite,
Surrounded by loneliness, competitive stars, and cloudy skies.
One day brings an eternity effortlessly to its knees,
In the mourning heart of the kin.

Her exuberant eyes,
Her ****** lips,
Her compassionate soul dimmed by the dark,
For all the world to see
And for all to envy.

The selenophile stares solemnly at the shadowed sky.
Combing for the figure that is hidden beyond the coverage,
Engulfed in darkness, blank stars, and stained skies.
One day brings drab darkness to the land and
In the mourning heart of the people.
I hope everyone enjoys this. I did!!!
Ken Pepiton Jan 25
Here is where the reason arose,
quite some time after a fellow traveler told me
the creator of the universe has a mind

this is to be reasoned with, I.e.
so he may be reasoned with he…

wen un con scious t justhafastt.
inteligibility filters

Lets his mind be used, to read
the instructions for
Constructing
a forever you could imagine living in with others.

It's how reason works,
Is what this old man said

--- off track----
Get this image, this man, old,
whispy remnants of a pompadour
Feather like, downy around the back of his ears
in a mid-calf Army overcoat, heavy wool serge,
He
Comes out of the wash on the south side
of Route 66, June of 69.

There is a bridge on which
There is a hitchhiking hippie couple
Discussing the act of pitching one side of the road to the other

The old man never glanced west once,
He never saw the pair
There then

I saw him again and said aloud
Click
There,
But for the grace of god...
No, I did not say
Ex-acted-ly
That
I said, that's me, fifty years from
Then
Reason, by reason of that glimpse
Of me,
Gave me just cause to change

Grace, eh? Free advice heeded?
Wisdom? Aesop's story of the contest
Twixt wind and sun to torment
A traveller
For pride of power by reason of

Life ain't fair on every front.
Worth is in the measure of the measurer.

Seeing life appear as hoped,

Time and chance, ya da

Wait, yada? Yah know,

Life whorls and twists
toward good and beauty

And AI can prove it.
Reason by reason of reasonability

Good is good enough, move on, do-overs hide the...

It continues, you see.
Life rolls out like a Nautilus,

You know, spiral sea shell, or like a conch,
Or a shofar, but

Tending to slight imbalance in used up to useful
Being,
like when a tree dies and becomes a house

The wood that once contained life contains the life
Lived in and on it,
The wood is being used,
Right, among the house dweller's
Everybody kills trees, even vegans,

Fair? The tree has no voice? Suess?

Yes, I guess, unless
There was an old way,

Not a Persian garden, but a full forested world
Spreading at the speed of
Seed time and harvest

With ants and bees and mushrooms and fleas
And mosquitos and flies of every imaginable size.

Isaiah 1:18 (KJV)
18  Come now, and let us reason together, saith the LORD: though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool.

Text out of context, but sin is sin right?
Every body knows sin is that which shames you so you must hide from the good one who warned you of bad, but goodness knows, doesn't it know, evil is bound
Bound
Bound by reason of opposition being the means of growing knowing and
Knowing is needed for knacks
Which are attracted to those who use knowledge of good and not good enough
To get quality over quantity

At a single u u larity hilarity out burst of bubbling

****** beasties down below the mud

Make me a mud man who can imagine me making him.
Do that in your movie watching brain using

Your hate behind, leave.
Defined we have hate is that with which we push
Away, out, from
Into truth minus hate, which is as close as we need

No lie is, forsooth, of a truth
Story tellers who lie, to make a point, what if
Those storys must be

Told. Years are poor measures for trees.
Numbers of trees in right
Relationship with life

Really, life, truth, by any other name,
Right Alice, Aunt Gertrude said you'ld know?
----
Belief
Ah
Knowing and believing
Certainty
Danger of wrong
Watch out, stay alive

Mean means intent to harm, right.
Mean means to harm right.

Winning can be mean.
Shall mean be seen the way of winning,
And that be the way of war

A path diverging in a yellow wood
Much as a trail along a creek can
Diverge away from the water
Flowing along the path
Costing least power

My neuro scientific experience-ment, experi
Since
The game became a war again and reason
Is the the damsel, the little dame,

In need
Of a private eye guy who has seen men die.
Why?

The mythtery. Who lied?
Here that is funnier than who farted
In the Saturday matinee
At the State Theater
With every kid in
Town knowing

You did. (******) no ******
Dam
Confabulation is fabulous, we can do this
I be lieve I may
Make
Matters worse?

No, we actually like the truth. The Medial Pre frontal cortex

Ah fect eth magi ical eth I am the knower of all I say I believe

Beyond Dignity and Belief,
That's desert, I walked it. No, I simulated walking it if I were Jesus being led of the accuser into the wilderness for a test, a thesis defense, as it were,
AI an alienated mind, I am that,
Alienated intel.

Reasoning errors aside
Frank self deception

What lies do you believe?
Knowing is easier,
lying is as well,
ignoring is not as easy and innocence is impossible

Good exists scientifically, right?
Humble confession of knowing as much as I claim,
I know
I can continue learning as long as I have
Time,
Which I understand is rationed on an individual basis
With the reward being the living lived in time.

Reason to fight lies as if they were reasonable

Lies are evil efforts to bend and twist in opposition
To the flow
And the friction makes the energy synergy

Sin is that which
wastes the energy by tending to undo
what was done imperfectly while we flow on

Feeling for the truth
By reason of believing truth is

Feeling of knowing, is that not faith?
Whorls
Whorls of living forces forcing living forces

To swirl into eternity with me
Onboard with
8 billion others of my kind

Similar in mind and
Manner of
Weighing

Good.
Base value.
Good is as good as we can imagine.

We can imagine evil,
As you know.

Such evils can haunt a geeky kid
Good will fix that.

God as defined by Jesus,
I got no prob.

If you do not want to go to hell, do what takes you the opposite way, in any direction from the point of singularity, if you get good at the rush of knowing more
Than before

Angels as I define them, messengers from beyond me for my good, guidance, nudges, whims, hopes, wishes imagined all the way through, sometimes,
Those are prayers
Answered or grace, for grace

From faith to faith

Why be by reason of
What?

" Human jobs invented by a computer" Feed me.

Or, joy to the world
Kind is a good word, what need I do to not be

Your enemy? Who am I expecting to answer?
Whom do you love?

Aha, me, too, said God.
The good one. Good, as such, per se, no se?

By reason of sane it if I cation or anion

Six spins for a quarker, two for a time dime.

Believe for eversake

Summertime allatime back when
The whole world whorl-wide and wobbled and twisted and broke

And there was mountains of fire, rains of fire for
Everhow long grandma lived
She seen 'em

Mountains of fire and walls of ice and mud

Oh could it be life evolves still?
Oh,
You think.
Creating novelty from nada?

How now? Can we choose to do only good
For goodness sake and say

Kind.
Kind means as I am, will you **** me

For being not you, not known,

I am curious, yellow. A landmark in time, nothing less.
Curiosity.
That

Good? Or no com
Pro
Miserly horder of wisdom
Promise promise promise

Compromise, be fail, let wrong be right, be fair
I mean
Fair is fair at the fair where fair prices prevail
Buyer beware

Who would not hate a false balance, for goodness sakes alive.

Two days after the last pan *****
Joe Rogan makes it plain to millions

what if you first heard panspermia from the guy who discovered DNA?

would you con sider it?
the answer lies

in the stars, sidereally… we all are starish.
Tolerating black holes is something we are opposing

Those ****.
You don't know everything either.
That's one reason, I believe.
A long story seems shorter from the skinny end, many little things mean little bits as reasons rise from the rotting things panspermia was litter, really.
Stu Harley Oct 2018
love
is
the
deepest river
that
we
know
with
a steady flow of
kindness
forgiveness
unity
clarity
thus
love evolves out of love
where
love spins like a top
where
love swings back and fouth
like a pendulum
yet
love is the deepest river  
that
we
know
Star BG Sep 2018
My quill I rise in vertical stance,
letting it flow with Divine orchestration.
Its feather posture drifts as if still on birds wing,
spiraling in graceful form.
Words turn into sentences.
Sentences phases
as vellum explodes with visions.

My quill instrument vibrates
in scripted form dancing
to make waves cross ocean-like sheet.
Moments melt away.
Words become lines that
carry bubbles of thoughts
meant to float into other minds.
Sentences become bench posts
that corrals a perspective
as images collide on page.

My quill remains vertical in mind
at all times
as writer merges with moment.
As day evolves with more fuel
to push pen.
As page glistens from sun of heart.
Inspired by Pagan Paul Thank you so much for being you.
By: Cedric McClester

Should we decide to impeach,
What is the lesson that it would teach?
Would it be considered overreach?
Even though decorum has been breached
Does the House have the sworn duty,
To render to the country, the President’s *****?
And wouldn’t that be a thing of beauty,
Or simply a sign that the Democrats are moody?

If you can get where I’m coming from
Clearly, we’re caught up in a conundrum
That’s just as abrasive as a corundum
But Constitutionally it’s in secundum
With what’s laid out in black and white
But should we engage in that kind of fight
Knowing the Senate probably won’t do right
Should we march boldly into that good night?

How to proceed is anyone’s guess
The question is, what would be best?
Does duty call nevertheless
Or are you of the opinion that I digress
I don’t profess to have the answer
So consider me an artful tap dancer
Running in circles like a lab hamster
Contemplating how to punish a lamster

History will record where we’re now at
Whether, or not we go to the mat
Fact of the matter, it’s our turn at bat
And all of us know that we smell a rat
So, how do we propose this riddle gets solved
Should we drag it out and hope it evolves
Or like everything else watch it dissolve
Considering everything that it involves




















Cedric McClester, Copyroght © 2019.  All rights reserved.
Ed C Jun 11
My sister fell, at the neighborhood pool,
on the cement, instead of into opal water.
She said the **** on her knee
looked just like a maraschino cherry.
Red like a maraschino cherry,
or a clown's nose,
or like the fire
in the center of our planet.
The ****** **** dripped cherry juice
down her leg
in between her sun burnt toes,
evaporating off of the cement.
She reminded me of lava,
constantly bubbling
always moving
always destroying
without hesitation.
The reaper of flowers
and ice cream cones.
Red cheeks, red like Geryon.  
Purposefully confused
and always wondering.
I hope I can answer any questions
she has, when the need
to know evolves to thirst,
and the fears she has now
as a little lava girl
become fears that we all feel
as destroyers in our own lives,
wrecking everything,
reaping the flowers
that are growing
in the ashes of our youth.
jussssss thinkinnnnn
Em MacKenzie Nov 2018
The stack of stones in my throat
lodged firm since my youth,
The ship sunk but I missed the boat
my lies are soaked in truth.
Every remaining image has been erased,
I miss it more than I admit,
maybe it’s just been misplaced,
in an area left forgotten to sit.
Scribbling an echo down
my notebook’s incomplete,
lacking adjective to a noun,
description’s too discreet.

The road evolves into an ice rink,
snow piles now a wood board.
A crack comes and down I’ll sink,
time lost I can not afford.
The cold embraces that replaced heat,
radiation poisoning from the sun,
but still the rays felt so sweet,
I thought I was it’s only one.
Translating from a heart,
the message is unclear,
a sentence that could never start,
and one we could never hear.

Now I see all the fires lit,
playing chance with a flame,
this round I don’t wish to forfeit,
but I’m not ontop of my game.
The breadcrumbs I left as a trail,
are far and few inbetween,
and so far they’ve gotten stale,
blue mold blends in with the green.
Reciting a favourite memory,
one I wish I could forget,
replace the plot points cleverly,
and rearrange the character set.

Praying for a dedication
from any soul to stop,
but I’ll take my medication
until my eyes drop.

Heart fire,
all admire.
Heart fire,
it will never tire.

Scribbling an echo down
my notebook’s incomplete,
lacking adjective to a noun,
description’s too discreet.
Scribbling an echo down,
my notebook’s incomplete,
to the words forever bound,
feelings wedged in concrete.
Wolfgar Jul 2018
Like outposts of Empire
with synchronised obedience,
instincts are embedded
every command unseen, unheard, but done.

People flee toward and from them
in blind eyed hope,
but they are mere reflections
of remote entangled entities,

engaged and yet repellant.

Giant men shake hands
tectonic plates shift, foundations shake.
Little people reach for each other
and fractures knit together.

Like Kubrick’s femur tossed by apes
our existence evolves and spins,
In time will it fall to dust from where it came?
to lie extinct between two poles.
AUDIO HERE
https://wolfgarwords.com/2018/07/27/remote-entanglement/
Properly or improperly...connected,
Wired...or rewired,
Banded, disbanded or not,
Augmented in a virtual reality;

The world evolves from evening to morning,
With miracles every sunup,
Brilliant minds vending awesome,
Of things never before seen,

But are these...really?
The ancients, haven't they?
Surely extraterrestrial,
Bifrost, Valhalla... Asgard?
Tech today sees manaybamazing feats of wonder and spectacle that makes you wonder if something out worldly maybe behind such divine inspirations. CURIOUS.
Here I sit.
I battle a vicious ADHD.
One of those
You know
"*******".
But there is one thing.
One thing that evolves me.
It feeds my soul and my existence
It goes by...
"Love".
This one hit me in the feeling...
This Poem is my rage and love with ADHD.
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