"hypnosis" poems
We all are unique magicians
From a painter to a nurse
To a poet that writes a verse
We create it in our own way
To brighten up somebody's day
We may all not have mind blowing tricks
Though our goodness still sticks
Our efforts never go unnoticed
And we don't make use of hypnosis
We all are created for a specific use
Each with our own personal muse
We all are unique magicians
And we will fulfill our missions
Feb 15, 2019
Feb 15, 2019 at 1:52 PM UTC
I remember when MTV was in its prime,
A new voice to represent the new boom
Babies growing up since the 80s
Louder still through the troubling decades
(Maxed out credit no head room)
After —the punks in nirvana and rapping clergy
It was the only channel on
Youthful rebel yell —honest news
I remember it pretty well
Shaping us generation x y and Personal Jesus
New wave good bye to when
Childhood then without pain of malnourished
Africa or nukes threatening our
Cruel summers
Were we happier then?
So what happens to the music
Rockstars rip van wrinkle
Geriatric hall of fame
(No one lives forever
Reruns with the ****** & mr. Ed
Now that old neighbor’s dead)
Television
Nowadays
Seem more gangster
School shootings terrorists
On the train, kamikaze planes,
It’s all the same ole
Bling kablam oh bits
******* please
Redirecting our attention
To WMD
***
Where the hells are we?
I remember back then
On MTV —Nicki Minaj says
Between the hysterics of police brutality
She said Happiness is living your life
Without struggle,
That stuck with me
Because we all watch the tube
We all search for meaning
Sadly defining what happiness
May look like
Real World and paradoxical reality
TV
Para socially defunct
Clarity
Conditioned to continuously
Stay tuned
Brief message of empty
Hypnosis a pure form of business
Wall Street
Boulevard of broken dreams
I want my
Happy. What do I mean
To be?
Life ***** lately
The human condition
Talking too much
Refusing to see
No more talking heads too much
Bla bla ********
I want my
MTV . Happy .
My generation
We are the world
freedom And yes, Peace.
Man kindly as one
Symphony
And street, a melting ***
Of diversity
I remember the music
The future
I had hope to see
Behind the shades
Circa 80s 90s
(Fossils)
What time is it then?
When will we
Begin
Again
Don’t worry be happy
Run Forest run!
Jan 7, 2019
Jan 7, 2019 at 11:55 PM UTC
See, it’s more of a… hypnosis,
A deep slumber of an everlasting fantasy. Trust me, I love it.
Like a whisk into a different parallel world
Filled with flashing colors that swirl and twirl, in fact,
kind of similar to a dress on a ballroom floor.
Not just any ballroom floor though.
No, this, like Van Gogh’s Starry Night
a masterpiece that cannot be replicated,
and to step foot on it is one of careful deep sea excitement
I wish to step there.
However, I am a tad ungraceful
and my feet are about as elegant as a scuba diver’s flippers.
So I might just impersonate one
and dive deep into the sea of the unknown and secret homes
hoping it delivers an innate whisper of the anticipation, the excitement
of this hypnotic, starry world.
Deeper I go, into this never ending oceanic abyss
With the darkness just as tongue twisting as it gets
Looking for something, anything,
to salvage my reason for going this deep, this late,
Because I have a tendency to procrastinate about the tasks most essential to my fate.
But, if you want, you can accompany me
and we can scuba dive together
into the deep sea of the not yet discovered and shining beacons of wonder
And if we’re lucky, we might find the lost city of Atlantis.
And while we’re there we can search and search for the spoils and riches of the hidden majesty
and wouldn't it be just lovely if we find a treasure chest, something?
With an eye for design we can admire it’s beauty
but we have to open it
because that’s the secret in the treasure.
To open it.
And the contents are the spoils.
Open it.
Apr 16, 2014
Apr 16, 2014 at 11:18 PM UTC
all my life
ive only thought of one thing
YOU
you are why i got an education
why i tried so hard to make beautiful things with my hands
why i got dressed up
why i learned to sing
and dance
why i never stopped trying to make a living
why i always went to the gym
and worked out to be diamond hard
why i was polite or inconsolable
why i ran seven miles a day
why i tried to be charming
why i could never stop playing with myself
why i got through james joyce
why i learned
conversational hypnosis
neuro linguistics
magick
and
witch
craft
to invoke a spell
that would compel
YOU
to dance
the wiggle wiggle
naked
from hot rhythms
and slow melodic
sways
as i prayed
burning
blood red candles
during the darkest moon
for adorations
with endless masturbations
to your beautiful *** and feet
for tender red lipped mercies
kisses kisses kisses
because
you are beauty piqued
from your golden angelic head
soft silken hair
to your sweet pink arched feet
and twinkling painted toes
magnetized
to yank my eyes
and be your
**** boy *** toy
my goddess glitter ****
queen of heaven
all paradise any man needs
BUT
sometimes i couldn't have
YOU
and
it velvet crushed me
taught me hopelessness
broke my will
gave me fear
made me cry
and shiver inside
tore my heart to smithereens
twisted my in-nerds
like jagged metal
melting me
as i spiraled
down
into madness
all burning veins of fire
until inferiority dragged deep
suffocating me
shuddery
like
winters
midnight freeze
and howling winds
through
hollow desolations
marrow-less
bones
Feb 4, 2017
Feb 4, 2017 at 1:25 PM UTC
Trump sat in his tower, supreme in every way
Whatever he wanted, he only had to say
The President to the press corps, of him, one day made fun
I’m gonna replace you bud, when your term is done
He started his campaign, they said he was a joke
But he became popular with all the common folk
The stuff that he spouted, was more and more absurd
But the stupid morons, swallowed his every word
He’s a Super Callous Fragile Racist Sexist **** Potus
Even though the sound of it is really quite atrocious
Maybe we could change him, if we tried hypnosis
He’s a Super Callous Fragile Racist Sexist **** Potus
There's no such thing as climate change, everything is fine
Burning coal and shale oil is perfectly divine
Those lefty enviornmentalists love to yell and shout
(making lots of money is what I'm all about)
The Mexicans are gonna pay when I build the wall
And I’ll lock you up Clinton, guaranteed next fall
No one could believe it, when the count was done
The blonde haired, orange faced, nitwit, actually had won
He’s a Super Callous Fragile Racist Sexist **** Potus
Even though the sound of it is really quite atrocious
Maybe we could change him, if we tried hypnosis
He’s a Super Callous Fragile Racist Sexist **** Potus
It’s just that he was used to, always getting his way
He signed executive orders, on his very first day
The Judges over ruled him, and put him in his place
They threw the executive orders, right back in his face
He’s having lot’s of problems, with the phoney press
And though he tweets daily, it’s still causing distress
If he bombed the Syrians, maybe it would make amends
But all he succeeded in doing, was **** off his Russian friends
He’s a Super Callous Fragile Racist Sexist **** Potus
Even though the sound of it is really quite atrocious
Maybe we could change him, if we tried hypnosis
He’s a Super Callous Fragile Racist Sexist **** Potus
The FBI investigate, so he fired their chief
The replacement just carried on, Trump got no relief
Congress is thinking, let's put Trump against the wall
Pence is in the wings, just waiting for their call
He’s a Super Callous Fragile Racist Sexist **** Potus
Even though the sound of it is really quite atrocious
Maybe we could change him, if we tried hypnosis
He’s a Super Callous Fragile Racist Sexist **** Potus
May 21, 2017
May 21, 2017 at 3:55 PM UTC
Purple velvet curtains mimicked purple proses of long dead authors
Auteurs and Anglophiles expressing desire, the desire for Desiree
and she danced, she danced.
Christie too, she danced, she danced
Kick, snare, kick kick, snare, she danced rhythmic hypnosis
Daddy watched from the bar, banal dance of the bandits
And Katzarina, baby in the back, dances for love
Fatherless child begging attention
Dance no more my dear soul, for you deserve more
Lecherous lounge acts, the men in ties
Order another round, girls gather around
Please me, dance for me, ****** and bashful
The purple velvet reminds them of mother
Cruel institutions that decay our psyche
Patriarchal pesticides in pasta and porridge
On the side of the mango, matriarchal monotony
Oh stop this pretentious pillaging of poor prostitutes
You are but a boy at the gates of existence, fear not, for the father and the mother shall hold your hand in the heavenly harem.
Feb 14, 2013
Feb 14, 2013 at 5:53 PM UTC
Hypotonic collusions
Rising in osmotic lesions
An eruptive soul reversion
Emissions of embered logs
Each lightening with a glow
A youthful straw of clemency
Pollinated sandals, handled
Gripping the flesh in vessels
Houses of lost and unreal dreams
Vicarage gardens of suppression
Masticated in delegated abstractions
A surmise of death and redistributions
Each a beat rise, slide on frosty ice
Un-enveloped in seasons of erosion
Delusional commotions sprawled
In the dance of the ecstatic programming
The body waved and led in hypnosis
********** with the intangible essence
To make sense a revised tense,I fence
Straying in lenient lunacy to fields afar
A merry to ferry the phoenix dance
Rattles shaking in transit translations
Drums pause settling in finesse pond
A coitus of dimensional valour and vice
Feb 25, 2016
Feb 25, 2016 at 9:37 AM UTC
Removing the little lace dress with its white hem I place it back on its chair.
The white hem radiates slightly enticing my naked boyhood once more
With its lusciousness, a savannah of continuous beautiful evocation
I sit naked and watch the little lace dress with its white hem
See it become languorous and dreamlike
I smell the exotic flora of its continued subtle seduction
It ripples softly in a slight waft of air
Like a breath blowing on a still pond
I cannot resist it, I am the trance of its hypnosis
Nothing intervenes, nor tries to prevent me
As my fingers fall for its flirtations
Once more I acquiesce to the most wanted desire
Of the little lace dress with the white hem
To caress the body of a fifteen year old boy
To become a second skin
I allow it to slide over me seducing my senses
Realizing the counters of my thin syrup coloured form
The words whisper again about my girls’ complexion
About my long black hair, about the body I inhabit, the likeness of a girl
I look once more in the mirror, they could be correct
Aug 13, 2012
Aug 13, 2012 at 3:09 PM UTC
Swimming in Shadows
swarming in from my soul
Talking to thieves that
taunt us to trust.
Drinking down danger
denying death's desire
Forgetting full-well I'm
floating in fire
Ignoring iconoclastic images inked in my eyes
Hoping hypnosis helps
heal humankind
Dangerous dance
done dozens of days
Easiest entry, eternal enslavement; extracorporeal existence engaged.
Aug 7, 2018
Aug 7, 2018 at 5:29 PM UTC
Suffering from undiagnosed mental illness,
Also talks about other undiagnosed disorders,
Never saying that I officially have those, to be ficitious,
Cause I am breaking and pushing all borders.
Suffering from undiagnosed mental illness,
Also talks about other undiagnosed disorders,
In school labelled as the kid who was mischievous,
obeying orders, so ****** disorded.
Suffering from undiagnosed mental illness,
Also talks about other undiagnosed disorders,
hating social interaction, dark thoughts, labelled as malicious,
Still loving hobbies and education, still ambitious.
Suffering from Undiagnosed mental illness,
Also talks about other undiagnosed disorders,
Behaviours yet still suspicious,
is it undiagnosed mental illness and disorders, that are tralatitious.
Suffering from undiagnosed mental illness,
Also talks about other undiagnosed disorders,
From Depression, Suicide tendencies, Autism spectrum and ADHD,
Taking medication that suppose to help, clearly does and doesn't.
Suffering from undiagnosed mental illness,
Also talks about other undiagnosed disorders,
From Depression, Suicide Tendencies, Autism spectrum and ADHD,
I don't say am like every other who suffers from mental illness or other disorders.
Suffering from undiagnosed mental illness,
Also talks about other undiagnosed disorders,
Obesity isn't always a disorder,
A Small part of obesity is generics or health conditions,
A large part of obesity is the choice based upon society.
Suffering from undiagnosed mental illness,
Also talks about other undiagnosed disorders,
Laziness is a mental, gaming is now a mental illness,
Kids that want no job, nothing to achieve, no physician needed,
Kids thinking that they are doctors, internet search and diagnosis,
believing in self taught self hypnosis.
Suffering from undiagnosed mental illness,
Also talks about other undiagnosed disorders,
Childhood, I was very precocious,
Leaving friends, family and parents, Ferocious.
Suffering from undiagnosed mental illness,
Also talks about other undiagnosed disorders,
behaviours of mine never when unnotice,
Angry was always explosive,
Never been seen for the symptom shown, never reaching an prognosis.
Nov 6, 2020
Nov 6, 2020 at 7:22 AM UTC
I can't say that I know what it's like
To lose someone
And it's not because I have never experienced death
My Great Aunt died of lung cancer
Though she never smoked
And was the nicest lady
With what I assumed
Was a New York accent
To ever be convinced that I loved
Her Spinach Frittata
And who indirectly
Made jokes about my insatiable desire
To consume the apple pie
She died on the tenth of october in the year two-thousand ten
(10/10/10)
And I remember my father calling me to the kitchen
To tell me the news
I cried a little
And went back to my room to write angry poetry
But ultimately I was just tired
And went to sleep
Without really adressing anything
At her funeral, I remember my cousin telling me
The story of how her (then) long-term boyfriend
Used wire cutters to remove his braces
A week before they were due to come off
They called me over to put a shovelful of dirt
Into the grave
And I did
Then ran back, jumping as I did (jumping as I did),
To my cousin
Because her candid attitude let me know that it was ok
Not to be somber
My dad's friend had a stroke which dislodged blood clots and sent him
Into a coma for a long time
And while we posed with him for Christmas pictures
(I hated posing, I hated the picture-taking, I hated smiling, it all felt wrong)
And my father promised that hypnosis was going to work
My dad's friend died
In a hospital bed
In his home
In a historical region of uptown Whittier
My dad lost his friend
My mom lost hers as well
When she stopped talking to his wife
Who had been her friend first
The cousin who was talking to me at the funeral
Lost her (then) boyfriend
When she woke up one morning
To find him dead with her
In bed
So I can't say that I know what it's like
Because I have lost people
I've seen death
And I dislike it
I dislike the thought that all my
Teachers will die before me
And I am sad thinking about those days
That I will be in the crowd
One of the Touched
I dislike that I don't know what it's like
Because I don't see it like the others
I try to remember beauty in their life
Beauty that they shared with me
Beauty that I will keep alive
Like the energy cell
The Doctor blew life into
To power the TARDIS
But if I can't find it
If there was nothing we shared
If there is nothing to tie me to them
I feel bad that someone else feels bad
I dislike their pain and
I wish I could give them a hug
And that the hug would fix everything
But it won't
And all I can do is think about
How much I ****
At comforting grievers
And how much I wish
I could be a better comforter
But I'm not
Because I don't do well with death
Sep 4, 2013
Sep 4, 2013 at 12:37 AM UTC
A *** girl is completely beautiful, she is endowed with the full-fledged beauty of mind and body, her forms are full of beauty and a tidbit, in my eyes you will always be perfect. So hot and sweet, well, just tin, I have a severe burn from excitement of ***** and love. You are attractive from any side in any form. Your body seems to order me to love you again and again. Your yummy appearance to enter deep *** hypnosis of love is so beautiful well just to the loss of pulse, delicate as pink rose skin, pink tint on your skin like delicate pink opal, you are the personification of the true form of femininity, in my mind I see only you since I'm in love with your soul and body, my soul, heart and mind are saturated with the powerful force of love for you, true love for you and excitement boils in me and boils, you stand out with its outstanding beauty from the crowd of girls and women, as if several thousand illuminate you ajor floodlights accompanied with your favorite music. I gently kiss your skin and it’s just the divine taste of love and passion, I look at you and don’t notice how long I look at you, your great beauty is always fashionable in my heart, for me you are the highest top model of true beauty, I comprehend your bowels of amazing beauty, you expose your soul during unforgettable *** so it is your image is like unforgettable *** you expose your sensual tender soul filled with burning passion like a fashionable jacket, you ****** me with its beauty with style and special chic. My whole mind is filled with you, every neuron is filled with you, now my brain is so arranged, when you undress with deep delight it becomes difficult to breathe right up to the shock of admiration, to what extent it is a wonderful sight that I just sweat and stutter with excitement. Than more often I see you, the happier I become like a child, as if every time I fall in love, looking at you for the first time every day, I see that you are the highest happiness and love in the universe. I am in love with your ideal divine forms of the body, they are just perfect and perfect. I feel you and love and excitement by the whole nervous system I feel only you alone and it goes into the soul into the subconscious, into dreams, and the whole nervous system receives a powerful ****** of romance from love for you, like a great volcano or a great tsunami, it carries me into the world dreams where everywhere you are just like a storm and swirling like a huge tornado, the element of my love is able to crush this world. You are my most cherished desire that I made every day. When you look at me, the violin symphony gently sounds, when you peer at me the piano keys, from deep sensual eye contact, in your eyes I see infinite beauty.
Author: Musin Almat Zhumabekovich
Aug 2, 2019
Aug 2, 2019 at 5:23 AM UTC
Indoctrination of the American nation
Relocation of native populations
Slaves labor, creating plastic toys
To distract the little girls and boys
With media propaganda saturation
To numb your brain from realization
That we're living a lie as children die
To fill your tank so you can drive
To Wal-Mart for some motherfuckin' Cheesy Poofs
That scoop the dip in which you ****
Lay waste to nature's beauty abundant
Political doublespeak redundantly redundant
Television's collision with consciousness
Has dimmed your awareness to idiocy
In an illusion of democracy
Where only the rich have control
As upon us all they take their toll
And we blindly follow, believing as we hear
Their scheming lies of security and fear
It's time the power structure fell
No more this **** to buy and sell
Reallocation of the hoarded wealth
And power for all people, not oneself
Mental stasis, awaken from this hypnosis
And avert the coming catastrophic crisis
Our leaders are masters who march us to disaster
As the clash of our cultures ignites so much faster
Than mere cognition, dimmed by television
Can comprehend the impending collision
Of conflicting interest in collective vision
It's time to rise with a battle cry
And tell the Feds we won't lay down and die
We'll evolve and resolve the situation
And bring new meaning to revolution
An end to the media's web of confusion
Confusing reality with an illusion
Conspiratorial governmental parallels
A trumpet's blast, as Babylon.... fell.
Dec 8, 2013
Dec 8, 2013 at 4:53 PM UTC
I have felt love so deep
Touch my hollow crevices
A bulb that fade in and out
The mount that houses delirium
A fire that burns the dark
A thunder that shutters crystals
A royally hypnosis of the beats
The jump swig, a rhythm swing
I have felt love so deep
The river depth overflow
inside my mindscape
A water escape in pipelines
where the moon and sky
mix in the scrapes of ebbs
A royally hypnosis of the beats
The jump swig, a rhythm swing
May 23, 2016
May 23, 2016 at 7:08 PM UTC
Moby ****
may have been
a
big
BIG
fish
and Ishmael
didn't have it so easy
But I need, I dream
of the epitome
of a flawless
ideal
piece of whitefish
A Succulent Bite
A Taste of Right
Hand battered
Deep fried
A
crunch
into heaven
Mouth-watering
yet light
Next to
crisp
oh-so
crisp
fries
Draft Rootbeer
Foam
in a mug
of delight
Mmmm Mmmmm
Seafood
See, this food
tastes like hope
Up North
I salivate
thinking of its
taste
thinking of
perfection
Man
Oh, Man
They don't make it
like this
anymore
So
so
fresh
This piece
Creates a sense
of peace
Harmony
on your palate
It turns
you up-turned nose
down
to the aroma
of a fisherman's skill
Natural Salt
of this world
brings you to a world
of pleasure
in a nibble
A coming together
on my plate
Skin-lined
Red Skin
potatoes
Frothy
Quenching
Rootbeer
Whitefish.
Simple Things
I found this fine trip
Combined with waterfall air
to breathe deep
My taste buds
had
gone up in
smoke.
My tongue
realized with
surprise
the possibilities of life.
May 19, 2010
May 19, 2010 at 2:15 AM UTC
You're good, too good, it couldn't be true
You know I'm the kind of girl that would fall for you.
You're skilled in deception, highly trained in lies
So quick with hellos, and sly with goodbyes
A master of hypnosis, a thief in disguise
The warmth in your smile shows not in your eyes.
Your world is small but you've conquered it all
You stare me down, owning me, when we pass in the hall
You're obviously charming, cunning, and coy
You're a regular Slytherin - is your name Malfoy?
Jul 28, 2013
Jul 28, 2013 at 2:24 AM UTC
The iris of your eye
Is the iris of the field
Ticking to the tock of the tire swing’s
Strawberry lemonade hypnosis
The pupil of your eye
Is a pupil of the universe
Breathing in all the wisdom and the heartbreak
Like a little black hole sponge
The sclera of your eye
Is the blinking white lights of the Ryman
Illuminating Hartford’s most exquisite fiddle solo yet
Projected down from the great riverboat in the sky
The lashes of your eye
Own the sliding boards at dusk
After all the children have heeded the dinner bell
And the rains roll in from the west
The tears of your eye
Remember your dancing days
Before the war took its toll
And youthful drops of dew still rested upon the irises
Oct 14, 2014
Oct 14, 2014 at 10:42 PM UTC
Bartender
Pour me some more
Let me stumble through the back door
Let the police
Smell the poignant aroma of rhythm and blues
Collide with my Genius creative expression
Handcuff me for resisting being silent
Check my breath for the bubbles of a drunken poet
Spitting up words and rhymes
Expressively with profanity of poetry
Charge me with intoxication
Verbal sensation
Before the judge
I plea guilty
Poetic confinement recommended
On the walls I write art
Painting out the graffiti of the prisoner’s thoughts
And colouring with poetic expressions
Bartender
Pour me some more
Until my cup overflows
I just can’t get enough
Let this liquor become embedded in my arteries and lungs
Let it be in my very DNA
Let it flow through my blood and veins
Through my heart and mind
Let it be hypnosis for my dreams
I drank poetry and it tasted delicious.
CHRISTENA ANTONIA VALAIRE WILLIAMS ©2012
JAMAICA
Jan 7, 2013
Jan 7, 2013 at 12:56 PM UTC
Lost the key
I dance in desperate movements,
stepping on toes as I go
Spinning out of control as faces grimace in my wake,
changing scenery like mirrored ball illusions,
tiny reflective squares blinding as they move
Still you stare, questioning gazes,
not making eye contact
but sensing my heart through the song…
playing in steady repetition
Fingers in your ears for fear
that it might touch you
in rhythmic hypnosis, shining pendulums
swinging in reverse tempo, challenging these feelings
you hold but still can not admit the lyrics
Prideful walls of bricked fortitude
built around your emotions sing of
locked entryways and barred windows
and it seems I have lost the key
Misplaced along out of tune wavelengths
while pitchy corridors of doubt
fill in the shadows of this that I desire
Still I extend a hand, “would you care to dance?”
Dark eyes squint as you focus, looking beyond the bandstand,
finding mistakes of the past playing in three quarter time,
heading towards the stage door exit,
tapping your toe in cadence with the drummer
who now stops…along with the beat of my heart
May 12, 2014
May 12, 2014 at 12:25 PM UTC
*She’s following you wherever you go.
You can’t escape your own fate.
She will always know.
I can’t think straight.
I’m sinking deeper into my mind.
Forgetting everything.
She’s making me blind.
I'm getting controlled by her string.
Seeing things that isn’t there.
I’m confined in her hypnosis.
Like a world of despair.
She sees herself as an apotheosis.
Looking at your own reflection.
Seeing her evil shadow behind you.
She won’t accept your rejection.
She has control over me with a voodoo.
But she knows I need her.
Together we are the dangerous confusions.
She makes everything I see blur.
She is The Goddess of Illusions.*
Aug 17, 2016
Aug 17, 2016 at 5:17 AM UTC
Will you please break me free of these memories?
You were once a friend, but now you're just a bitter enemy.
We're two strangers that know each others secrets.
If you said you still love me, I wouldn't believe it.
And I've been standing in the rain for far too long.
My body has become weak, and my mind less strong.
I’m broken into pieces, from the hammer you grip.
Though I’ll still let the phrase "I miss you" slip through my lips.
I want the good memories gone
And the bad ones to stay.
So I never come back to you
I wanna remain far away.
Because you're an illusionist,
Who has mastered hypnosis,
You have many tricks up your sleeves
Along with dead roses.
Sep 15, 2014
Sep 15, 2014 at 6:52 PM UTC
For who can say life is not but a dream.
When you sleep does your mind often know that you're not awake?
Something that your brain can't distinguish between,
is it reality or dreamlike serene?
For who can say that death is not but a dream.
Free'd from mortal coil, the body may wither but the mind may transcend separated from the body. Time is only conceptualized and regimented. Time is of course intangible. There has only ever been one time, the now everything is happening on one scale, at one time, always.
Empty, like all living beings. composed of nothing.
All that lie behind those thin human shells, and interact as if aesthetics are taken for granted. However, all is perceived and compiled of atoms and molecules, particles. Nothing lies truly there except for perception, look aside of the boundaries and reevaluate the conception.
Living, stagnant cogs of the world with fear of rejection.
Are you a dreamer? there isn't too many of us around anymore.
Life, is a waking dream and you walk down its path, but must challenge it and not give in, therefore life is a walking exam.
Aristotle spoke of knowing something because he knows he knew nothing. I know nothing, we all know nothing, knowledge is found therein.
Faking your way through everything, who's going to call who's bluff. Invisible boundaries, ones greatest enemy must surely be themselves,
for instance all those living their lives painting imaginary walls to lock their dreams in. Told something that isn't just on a daily basis by media no you shouldn't and no you can't. Hypnosis of the masses, bow down to the monopoly and put priority to the meaningless monetary.
Living lives chained to sheets of paper, always chasing, never ever asking why? do you need that, but will you die? Confused and lost sight of the real. pursuit of Happiness, Knowledge, Creativity, Love, Possibilities of above.
Break out the invisible shackles, leap out from under the internal prison and run, never stop till you reach the top of the mountain and scream. We are free and the time is now, there has never been a greater time to be alive. The world is our oyster lets soar and leap to the pinnacle of our greatness.
We can all achieve our potential, your life on a canvas, paint your masterpiece.
Jul 12, 2014
Jul 12, 2014 at 10:58 AM UTC
We wear the mask that grins and lies to everyone we love about everything we care about. The mask comes off only to be replaced by another, one for every single aspect of our lives. The masks are how we want people to see us, what we want people to think of us; like a subtle hypnosis. Tricked and deceived, the world shuns us, and so shuns itself, for the world is a mask. We never see underneath the mask to look at the real situation, their real feelings until it is too late, until they are absolutely powerless to stop us. That’s when we start to care and reflect, but it doesn’t matter anymore because you did not make the best of the time you had with the ones wearing the masks. The masks that come off by choice are statistics; they are leaders of nations until it is time for them to lie once more and don their old masks, or to make a new one, the effect is very much the same. The masks hide our feelings, the masks are our thoughts. The masks are our lives; to take off the mask is to die.
Oct 9, 2011
Oct 9, 2011 at 10:20 PM UTC
Winter Birds
Slow circles
survival’s muttering flotilla
of buoyant quacks
that worry black water’s warmth
of 32 degrees
just short of the freeze
stirred
by tired paddling
Maybe a dozen—clockwise slow
till morning finds the one that slept
through snow’s hypnosis
in dawn’s quiet clench....
Jan 29, 2019
Jan 29, 2019 at 6:04 PM UTC
I am on the front of a beach, a seas exit or entrance.
There was a feeling of superficiality in my vision, and my conception.
The waves, ** The keepers of the fleeting see on the soon-to-be-night tide.
They were so subtle as to loosen me in placidity, a melting hypnosis of crashes and slides. Thus was the nature of my moment with god. I was thus, thus was thus, thus was truth, god was truth, and the moment was god.
And oh, what a season, of fire and explosions, of the heat of summer and the love of the summers warmth, in the night that blew a silver wind in the moonlight, and the days that would either burn your skin, or tan it, depending upon constitutions. And depending upon the angle of the eyes, one could see the beauty of either the blades of grass, where there is no single blade, or the golden-sun dusk that was the most beautiful red, orange, blue, violet, becoming deeper as every memory of the day passes with the sun for new memories to take their place. And I will sit and wonder at the new sky, the freckled face of the drawn beauty, made demure, made to endure, though the moon gets smaller, though the day seems longer, though slept through. I will sit and wonder, until the darkness fades, the silver turns molten; the freckles turn pure blue, the true colors of his natural shyness. Just then, the day seemed like the beach, a seas exit or entrance.
There was a beauty in the ever foreseen sorrows of the future. Where the time became a fortune telling bell that, even the dulled mind, could hear and know where the tune was going. So as far as the ghastly face of death was concerned, we thought she was a beauty, a dancer at the ball, where infinity, god, oblivion, and me where fixed upon her her, as she was the spitting image of the beach, a seas exit or an entrance.
Oct 23, 2015
Oct 23, 2015 at 2:30 PM UTC