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What to write, when the words hang tight on the rope
The days are filled with possibility and endless hope
So many options and choices to be made
As my physical youth slowly fades
My mind a castle built on teal marble stones of bliss and desire
For what else am I alive but to build and inspire
Theres a fine wire that hangs from the head
Of the dusty old French maiden now an echo in the wind and dead
To leave a legacy or just to simply exist
As does the pretty fluffy kitten in the lap of a miss
We wander in wonder to learn the ways
Through keen wide eyes a curious soul does sway
A feather on a  bird, A dust in the wind
Holographic existence a  mango slowly ripened
Not hollow like all hollows eve
or a ghosts empty sleeve
holo like hello, lets get ready to take a dive
for today with a slow inhale we are alive
ManVsYard Dec 2014
Prisoners on a planet
blue
fenced in, locked in
by a dream.
Makes no difference
if it's true.
Choice: Starve to death or
join the team.

Just one REAL big cell
but, OH!
what a view!

Incarcerated by see-thru
air.
H2O from the gods
in the sky.
Heat and light from a sun:
do not stare.
Gravity *******, so we,
can not fly.


No way to complain?
You may
grow your hair.
Listen to daft music
crank it up real loud
make the old folks quiver
appear ****-sure, so proud.

Ethanol for you livers
arrows for your stealth weapons: bows.
Just don't defy "The Givers"

Don't make a face.

Don't hold your nose.

Authority is the rule
There is NO such thing as cruel
All you learnt in FREEDOM school
(tiny jails for tiny fools)
How to use the "feed me" tools
(dunce hat corners, tiny stools)
Will be usefull in you futures:

Jobs!

Polluting, lakes and rivers.

PS:

Free swimmig pools.
mike Feb 2015
so full it cant be emptied.
Powerful Holo
Please don't take me light my friend
And never ever try to insult or offend
I have my own style as well as my trend
First impression about me may not be end
I am passionate person with intuition
I carry along me my pronounced mission
I have my clearcut stance and position
When I take a position I never divert decision
I have a powerful and beautiful holo
My approach remains frank and solo
Being innovative I go for any nouveau
You will never ever be able to know in toto
My style attracts people around me
Don't take me a simple drop but sea
Being unpredictable what reult be
But I am a soldier in every word true
Colonel Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright Nov 2020 Love Remains
September Nov 2015
sappy lately, maybe happy lately,
maybe lately just greatly lonely?
CharlesC Jul 2013
in William Blake's
hologram of fame..
each grain of sand
in beaches we know
contains a universe..
and in each
those beaches again
with grains for us
to look once more
and find..
in the poet's frame
holo-science might
new Reality claim...?
To see a world in a grain of sand,
And a heaven in a wild flower,
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand,
And eternity in an hour.

--William Blake
ManVsYard Nov 2014
Speedy data transfer vine
indexed in junk DNA
Instantanious communication
no possibility of delay?
Holo-fractal hookups.
Is everyone on the line?

or

are we listen--ing too slow
are our ears to big to tell
ack from nak, yes from no
The solution? maybe
Quantum time!

Just one eternal grandfather clock
with only a TIC,
never a TOC
delays maybe caused by reneade gyres
like intestellar,
"slowdown feller"
invisible, swirls, with gushing spires.

E-fracting for minutes, hours, years
decades, eons, epics and more.
As pools of whirls slow,
there appear open doors.
but
The locks are no where to be found
The keys?
All scattered on the floor.

What is that, hissing sound?
ManVsYard Dec 2014
Our vision of the future
is changing, oh
so fast,
that sometimes tomorrow
seems just like
the past.

As we look from the shadow
that time
has cast.

Will we control gravity?
With wiggles from
the sky,

travel to the stars as soon
as we learn, again,
to fly.

Communicate thru DNA
with vast "we nets"
I ask WHY!

It seems, do we assume that
the acients were so
ultra dumb.

When they had the tech-no wit
to understand the
Aether hum.

Wonders from back in the day.
Were built by whom?
The aliens?

I'm not talking immigrants
but tiny green folks
from beyond:
"the stars"

Who tweaked our inner programming?
E-volved us into
bio-crystal
jars.

And

Who's adjusting us today?
Perhaps our ancient
grandpa's.
Maybe not men from
Mars.

Our dreams? Teleportation
space flight, levetation.
Traveling thru
"The Time"

Manipulating, pouring
imigaes, into our skulls of quantum
fibered
slime.

Holo-decks with lights and sound.
Full access is granted
when we become
"The Mime"

Meditate, like we are them.
We are all air fish, learn to swim
thru water that is
very thin.

Surf the waves like crazy loons.
Sing out loud, those inner tunes.
Life's just one big
lagoon.

So,

Don't *** in the water.
Act much more like you ought-er
Be more than just
fool fodder.
CharlesC Jun 2013
Two or three
gathered
or more..
tribes and nations
families
June lilac petals
the universe..
Each is searching
for illusive identity..
Then into our
organs and cells
the joining somehow
of local and large..

Quietly listening now
to holo-gram whispers
from each and all..
all contains each
and each all..
Whispers ask us
to find ourselves
on roadways with
two destinations
always arriving
and departing from
ports of call:
Each and All...
Miklusha Mamin Aug 2016
blue sky
holo sky
egotica
gentle clouds
delicious sides
I look at you
and I see the water
through her excitement
transparent ghosts
reflective consciousness
on removable media
free hard drives
from sadness and longing
empty place holy
They lie on a torrent gifts
Life is made up of images
Music is Life
no mystery
all on the surface
offensively
Stuart Lee Oct 2015
Echoes of laughter come to me
From deep within the chambers of my ship
Where are the voices coming from-
I was alone at the start of my trip.

Are they real or imagined?

Faces appear and disappear
None I recognize as being mine.
They are always watching when I sleep, when I bathe, when I work, when I dine-
All of the time.

Are they real or imagined?

If two years in space have weakened me
What can I expect from the next three?
I can sustain my life, I know
But can I sustain my former reality?

I want to believe it is happening,
and not just a holo-image of my brain.
The visitors are more frequent now-
I’ve made a breakthrough to a higher plane.

Are they real or imagined?
Am I real or imagined?
Oka Dec 2017
My canvas relaxed in front of me,
a brush in my hand and colors splattered all over my palette.
"How do I color you with one but show a wide spectrum?"
My brain circulates my head and over and then it YELLED :
"USE HOLO, *****!"
BEYN!
...er calculating polymath
no win tent to kindle,
or spark hay8 full ire rate wrath

juiced whiling away
the early evening hour hath
horror hived this february
twenty second, nah scared to take a bath.

The Process (is a Process All Its Own)
eye up ply applies
to brain storming with zest to whit
barn storming across das plains of google
to pitchfork embers tuff flickr tinder lee

with smart poetic dip pose zit
tool loom hen ate interior darkness
where lurks the monstrous akin to Perdido
otherwise known as perdition,

especially Native American
linkedin as The Buffalo Hunter
pseudonym adopted by Ballard and Sandrine,
The Green Woman, whose Side predicted to win

Pork Pie Hat predicated on FengShui yang and yin
force fields property aligned creates A Special Place
predominantly filled with A Dark Matter
only known (bee you wick), i.e.,The Skylark

and of course Poe's Children, totaling 5 Stories
helpful to down with a chaser
viz - The Little Blue Book Of Rose Stories
Ideally red (red) in The Night Room,

where an unsuspected parvenu
absconded with Lost Boy, Lost Girl
housing Magic Terror, but interestingly
one must ask - Isn't It Romantic?

Via the perspective Looking Back
feigning to be combination of Mr. X, and/or
and Mrs. God innocent looking people
yet, the progenitors of The Hellfire Club
burnt offerings indistinguishable from Blue Rose

fragrance or melancholy Ghosts
resembling trumpeting Floating Dragon
invoking grabbing by The Throat sensation
Where spirits flit to and fro

throughout neighborhood Houses Without Doors
and games without frontiers
this...a millennial Mystery
unlike the generic Ghost Story,

the main anti protagonist and/or
pro antagonist, nonetheless named Koko
who calls The Juniper Tree home
especially eerie Under Venus

provoking Wild Animals
to run berserk at lightspeed
en masse Black Sabbath
bestirs cries and whispers
proto, pseudo psychedelic

quint essence ova thermocouple
holo graphic images hypnotizing vista as Shadowland
explicit formula generating happy interacial Marriages
nah...ha - ah, the joe cuz on ewe
especially, If You Could See Me Now!
- Sep 2017
Where shall I roam in search of mine most desire
To rove distances till all of Earth I have dolven
Deep ravines, summits, seas, caverns...
Wilt I then obtain mine desire
For if to see in whole existence, how sooth canst any covet proclaim
It is holo, I myself so too hollow
Whereof dost I live for - to request for not life and so life to not request me
Of whom hath left me here to crave, to lust
I am fainéant...
Yet I wander, in vitality
...in appetency.
launched Meghan Markle into royalty

American divorcee
     catapulted from “AA” to “Zed”
at break neck speed, and with cachet wed
Prince Harry, and soon
     twill begetting, bestowing,
     and bewitching her
     chromo somal thread
(complementing, furthering, and

     weaving together "Quod Erat
     Demonstrandum", or QED
for short) within United Kingdom
     coat of arms, perhaps
     naming the first heir Ned,
and according one online
dictionary definition and ken
translates as French

     (Old English) name Eadmund,
meaning rich or happy,
     and protective akin
     to a mother hen,
not just mollycoddling
     hatchlings, but even
shelling out care
     on a wing and a prayer

     long after offspring
     fly the coop and been
fending for themselves,
     perhaps merely earning
     chicken scratch wage,
assigning doomed fate,
     sans cooked usage
if perchance "chick(s)"

go thru a foul stage
within their duff
     fenceless hierarchy,
     where pecking order doth rage
worse case scenario, would presage
finding errant peep(s)
     sent to gaol,
     not much bigger than a bird cage,

unless they comprise
     noble henny age,
ideally taken in as a pet
     by newly bridled
     Duchess of Sussex
treated like totally
     tubularly true blue blood
     with opulent accommodations

     (cheaply) tricked out
     with life size Tyrannosaurus Rex
(spoiler alert: actually done
     with special effe Hex
with latest computer graphics
     showing rippling reptiles flex
sing and holo
     graphic smoky mirrors)

intending "FAKE"
     balances and checks
to boondoggle aggressive paparazzi,
     one of whom includes
     Meghan Markle's ex.
kfaye Jun 2017
stinking like a wet jungle flower
******* balled up in her fingers

the
clouds swimming across the sun.  casting a thin iridescent shade
that exists only in the obligatory beach trip episode of any decent
anime.
you treat me like
       a
holo[graphic] card waiting to be found in a foil booster pack


.i am rotoscoped by your gaze



hum.
hum.
hum.
Ken Pepiton Mar 2020
2020 -day 84

Tuesday, March 24, 2020
8:55 AM

Seeing wrong,
seeing all the light available,
swallowed
in the shadows.

The unknowable turns believable.
Seeing monsters made up of

fears, non knowns, and warnings of what if;

how does the seer ever see
the absense of

all that never was as it all

appears as real
is now
visible in the light of day after tomorrow.

Expect, see, out there, ex-spectate, wait

what if this all passes

----

Meeting death in the barren market place,

this old man insisted on standing, to see past

pasts claiming causal friction grows slicker

sticky corruption shorting
utilities to
ground us.

{about five hundred million functional on-offs
fit on the silicon in a single grain,

a finite grain, in the finite sand, FYI}

pearl essence,
a layer of lacquer on a rough cut stone, a single
granular bit of silicon,
not sand, not silicone leaked from cracks and cleavages.

Real natural silicon, minus the dioxide cubist sand shapers that
seem to hold silicon in three-d
inside an oyster gut,
but smooth
silicon, slick
flat silken surface,
formed via imagi-tec-hative prognostication of holo
grammatical

bubbles shaping spheres of in fluence where once were

only circles
and every thing was as simple
as pi and Bohrian atoms.
from 1905 to now,
in some boxes men think in, imagining
orbiting electrons is how authoritarian sci using folk explain
chemical electricity,
and some try to say gravity is the active force at work.

Word, we know better... in the two d reality of words and flatness, here
psy psi sci
wist ye not- known knowns trump unknown unknowns.
Yes, we won.

Wisdom first, as a force, knowing, sci itself comes first,

by any name you claim you know but can't say,

for fear of the power in such names, no,
for fear
of the power
that makes such words, magic words,

words only magi-techs can utilize
safely in low light conditions,
adding matrices in
layers of little lies, informing the evidence chain
back to the idea of taking, and using, perhaps,

the idea of acting like only certain sorts of minds
may imagine knowing how to use
God - big g, all emanations and flavors
's name in vain.

Jot that down. Yod heh heh heh

here, have a sound track for the battle being set in array...

Don't Fear the Reaper

40,000 every day, la la, la la la

-- blue oyster cult mythic edge of sixties band

rock rollin' music for happy Sisyphus fans,

who find links to Camus in Covid 19 news, oh no

knowing growing must go on,
we leak out a spurt of

pearl essence, warning, this could be slippery,

keep your balance, walk don't run, listen we

survived, there is no guilt in that.

Nor must we do more than mortally possible, to believe
this life is temporary, at best.

consist, insist, resistance is futile, tiny grain

irritant emanating signals

secrete the pearly essence, encompass us

so smooth, so full of potential beauty
in this light
Bright and early, I remembered any music I wish for is probably on YouTube. And some times, I sing along
Mark Wanless Nov 2017
I do not do it for my i do it
For my karma form body thought realm
Life function birth world universe
Holo experience light manifold waves percept
Ken Pepiton Feb 2021
2020 -day 84

Tuesday, March 24, 2020
8:55 AM

Seeing wrong,
seeing all the light available,
swallowed
in the shadows.

The unknowable turns believable.
Seeing monsters made up of

fears, non knowns, and warnings of what if;

how does the seer ever see
the absense of

all that never was

appears as real
is now
visible in the light of day after tomorrow.

Expect, see, out there, ex-spectate, wait

what if this all passes

----

Meeting death in the barren market place,

this old man insisted on standing, to see past

pasts claiming causal friction grows slicker

sticky corruption shorting
utilities to
ground us.

{about five hundred million functional on-offs
fit on the silicon in a single grain,

a finite grain, in the finite sand, FYI}

pearl essence,
a layer of lacquer on a rough cut stone, a single
granular bit of silicon,
not sand, not silicone leaked from cracks and cleavages.

Real natural sand, minus the dioxide cubist shapers that
seem to hold silicon in three-d even
inside an oyster gut

flat silicon surface
formed via imagi-tec-hative prognostication of holo
grammatical

bubbles shaping spheres of pearl essence
in confluence forming skin
where once were
flat singlenessities,
little ships of life,
leaven,
from the forest floor, ripples of life,
only rational circles and every thing was as simple
as pi and Bohrian atoms.
from 1905 to now,

orbiting electrons is how most folk explain
chemical electricity,
and some try to say gravity is the force at work.

Wisdom first, as a force, knowing, sci itself comes first,

by any name you claim you know but can't say,

for fear of the power in such names, no,
for fear
of the power that makes such words, magic words,

words only magi-techs can utilize
safely in low light conditions,

layers of little lies, such as the evidence chain
back to the idea of taking, and using, perhaps,

God - big g, all emanations and flavors 's name in vain.

Jot that down. Yod heh heh heh

here, have a sound track for the battle being set in array...

Don't Fear the Reaper

40,000 every day, la la, la la la

-- blue oyster cult mythic edge of sixties band

rock rollin' music for happy sisyphus fans,

who find links to Camus in Covid 19 news, oh no

knowing growing must go on,
we eak out a spurt of

pearl essence, this could be slippery,

keep your balance, walk don't run, listen we

survived, there is no guilt in that.

Nor must we do more than mortally possible, to believe
this life is temporary, at best.

consist, insist, resistance is futile, tiny grain

irritant emanating signals



so smooth, so full of potential beauty
in this light

The Government keeps secrets. True,
some secrets are needed,
for the order to pre
vent chaos of random chance which
we all know is reasonable.

We have wars to protect those rights to privacy.

We've a right to hide our lies,

I vote no.

and as one in eight billion, on one plain
I pack a canon

with alchemical clues to choke a horse

Suppose, this is the way truth works, it finds
knowledge boxes leaking facts you are
Not allowed to know
you know,

you may
but
if you wish to know more

{WA watching unbelieve
abilite able say go or amen, or so beit is okeh, any
action provoker -- ask ask ax that's the word we was lookin' for}

we don't care
we

are the keys to all the secrets locked in words

we are free for the learning,
we mean any thing only if meaning was intended,

some idea thingy do form ative umph

sorts us from the stream, in a pan, swirl. slow sift
spread see the gleam

ef
fect af
ter affect of effectual fervent prayers, if

you can believe that.

My sci phi fantasy slips on some unknown

substance of things unseeemly bang

my bubble pops and here I am again

earthbound and sounds of
jet planes leave lines

of reasoning to wonder if nothing is separate
from anything at all.

All being posed as the ever, in

eutopian success stories passed via trans
dimensional possessors

of certain skill in tongues and interpretation,

not to brag,
but muses play a major role in arranging for

tri-lingual translations, listen

some very strange people must be kept alive.

Look around you. Why the fervor to preserve

old boomers who ignore cancer warnings?

I can't say.
I don't know. Ye, Gads, I'm one of those...

raging,
at the breaking edge, the raging edge of

ever after this. A world alive in beauty...

squirrels are cute, I have some in my yard, right now,

there is a reddish one, with beige eye-liner round
white-less eyes,

nibbling green shoots on foxtails I am dreading, while
wondering if they ripen to hold fermentible grain,

just in case the worst you can imagine happens,
and I need to get real drunk.

Look around me.
Nothing missing, nothing broken, no need
appears when I speak of the devil
and focus on the worst that
could happen,

no need revives

save remembering to breathe and step outside
when the rain stops.

Spaceship earth is listening,
these are the legendary interesting times.

Seals have been broken, and the breaking seen on tv.

We matured after allathat. There was no boom,

life haps in bubbles, at the bottom
of the final metaphor.

Knowing used, expands bubbles, and as we
encorporate

all we know, in video and so on, we signal

all we have ever known, we got the message,

this is our answer.
Tilly May 2019
I'm always okay for a while

tape on the bottom of the door

but then the water presses hard

and the tape falls on the floor

and flood runs in

and the cold walls lock me inside

of this hellish nightmare

what a surprise

no one heard the scream  

no one knows what I almost did

but the inevitable is coming

the air is turning thick

and my heart

is a vessel

that's holo like a drum

god it hurts so bad

And I never manage to run

Im embarrassed to tell

it's pathetic really

but it hurts so much

why does it hurt so much?

what am I waiting for?

a night in shining armour?

a breath of life?

or for when

the water swells up

way above my chin

it crushes my lungs

rips away that small

a sliver of life left in me

my soul is so dark

you couldn't see the bottom even if you tried +

— The End —