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Mateuš Conrad Sep 2018
.the English pronounce the Cornish town's name as: nookie... the **** is it, a Green Day album name, or a Limp Bizkit song? perhaps i'm too French in my pronunciation... quail... eggs... quay... qua-a... if i were Welsh i'd write you the name like so... newyddquaa... but no... but no, has to be nookie... like buggering a ******* chimp... quail eggs... see how language becomes mutated? nothing is apparently, certainly, stable... always the permutation of a flux... i must have ingested a little of the French concept of: je ne sais quoi when learning English... come one... nouveaucarrière: new quarry... nouveauquai... nookie?! seriously?! Q, Q... Quail eggs... quay... new... quay... maybe the usage of hyphenating words into compounds needs to be revised in the english sprechen... ******* mutation... nookie... ****** ******, + a ******* wookie, walking carpet ride worth the name Chew-a-Buck-back-up! i'd settle for: new-key... some sort of variant of a maritime honing device for locating ships sending distress signals during storms... but... no... but hey... it's authentically Welsh territory... Cornwall is, after all... a pre modern extension of Wales... nookie this: shotgun my *** while is spew rhetoric concerning the health benefits of applying feces instead of ****** cream for the benefits of: no one.

over 20 years spent living on these isles,
and i never made the connection -
Welsh nationalism could only work
if you included Cornwall -
   given that Cornish is very much:
a southern dialect of Çymru -

    i guess... i'm not sure...
    let's put it to the etymological filter...
beginning with primary words:

black
           du   (Cornish)
      du   (Çymru)

    red
       rudh (Cornish)
      coch (Çymru)

    white
          gwydn (Cornish)
gwyn (Çymru)
      
        i guess that's how etymology works,
a shared origins story...
etymology is best
  examined with primary words,
basic nouns / adjectives...

that was the adjective test...
now for the noun test:

sun
          howl (Cornish)
  haul (Çymru)
      
  moon
   loor (Cornish)
    lloer (Çymru)...

    sky
               ebron (Cornish)
   awyr (Çymru) -
   ah...
      now we see what becomes from
etymological deviation...
the sky has to have more
inherent connotations
of a religiosity as the resting place
of sort...

i'm sure that sea, earth, water,
and fire, are very much akin
or mountain...
but i could be wrong...

sea
    mor (Cornish)
  môr (Çymru)
        
earth
    dor (Cornish)
   ddaear (Çymru)

   water
         dowr (Cornish)
      *dŵr
(Çymru)

fire
          tan (Cornish)
    tân (Çymru)

mountain
   menedh (Cornish)
         mynydd (Çymru) -

ah... well then...
that explains the separatist movement
of Cornwall akin
to the Spanish Basque or
the Catalonia...

  white cross on a black flag...
they're ******* Welsh down
in Cornwall!
   i was eating a Welsh pasty
all along!
           oh... i see...
  
  that's why they're separatists
down there...
but there's one word that's
crucial in all of this,
given the emblem is
on the Welsh flag...

  dragon...
**** me!
       there's an etymological source
for the word in English...
and, it comes from?
Cornish!

   draig (Çymru)
  dragon... in ******* Cornish!
**** me...

what's... snake?
   serpont (Cornish)
    neidr (Çymru)...

   there are similarities though...
blatant ones...
which explains the separatist
sentiment of the Cornish people...
they are like
the Hindu corp
of the Urdu speaking Welsh...
high Welsh and low Welsh...

nice to know...
thank god i didn't make the brash
etymological decision to
find the long lost cousins
of a shared source
akin to "abstract" words,
like...

        gallos-power-gallu...

****!

          g­od?
       DUW | WUD

well... god is a universal word,
and it matches...
  duw is god in Cornish,
and in Çymru...
   as it is also Allah on Malta...
funny as the fact that Malta
and it's Knights Hospitaller
cross of St. John of
                                 1567.

20 ******* years on these isles -
and only now i realize
why the Cornish are separatists...
they're Welsh...
   in disguise,
under the guise of a tourist
hot spot that's "nookie":
                       i.e. Newquay...

come to think of it...
    even though i'm living in England...
i interacted more with
the Welsh, the Irish and the Scots...
than i have with the English...
    i'm starting to think that...
if i don't make my way to
Yorkshire...
  or Newcastle...
then i lived in a country...
where the supposed countrymen
of said name... never existed!
ha!

well, in english you'd never really know
that Cornwall was once part of Wales,
given that Wales, isn't in the name
Cornwall: but that's in English...

in Polonaise?
        well... Wales / Walia (that double-u
  or rather, the double-v,
   since... erm: ωμέγα?)
         ergo?
      Cornwall / Kornwalia...
      probably the most beautiful part of
England you can begin to imagine...

aside...
   the current debate over "the pond" in
h'america... tuition fees, student debt...
as much as the h'americans love to gloat
and boast this that and the other...

i'm looking at myself...
    i went to university, studied chemistry,
and history...
   3rd year? 12 hours per week in
the laboratories...
three tiers of chemistry:
a.  physical - i hated physical chemistry,
it's so un-chemical...
   too much physics / mathematical
*******, so obviously i was weak at it...
b. inorganic chemistry...
    something that mingles with
   geology / metallurgy...
   eh... so so... it was o.k. and finally
c. organic chemistry...
   my strongest route, my faustian dream...
and so much like cooking,
so much so that... well: heston blumenthal...
maybe that's why i love cooking
so much, since it reminds me of
organic chemistry...
   anyways, i digress...
      back when i studied...
  and labour was in power with their:
education, education, education mantra?
that's what was still great
                  about britain...
the last stand as it were,
   ****, i still remember tha handing over
of hong kong...
    fee, per year? 1,250 quid...
                      that's it...
student loan, 3,000 quid per year...
   i actually did manage to live
             on the 3,000 with enough money
spare to do weekend away trips to paris,
stockholm, barcelona etc. - and god:
how i loved to travel alone,
bumping into strangers in hostels...
and the best part?
    i don't have to repay my loan until
i earn over 15,000 quid per year...
and since i'm not earning that...
                  the loan will be annuled after
30 years...
   mind you... a really **** year to go
to university and become a british citizen...
since... in scotland... e.u. citizens didn't
pay tuition fees!
      hence the massive surge of the polans
circa 2005...
                                 so: america, **** yeah!

but on a night like this,
esp. in the evening prior to the night itself,
there's that surge in electricity in the air...
you're walking to the supermarket
and the most mediocre magic happens...
sonny rollins' blues in your ears
you pass a street lamp and it gets switched
on by the grid...

                   it's only special because
your're listening to jazz and when you listen
to jazz and promenade...
you might as well be as content as if
walking a yorkshire terrier...
    
   while on the way back, instead of your
usual beer... you buy yourself...
a rowntrees ice lolly...
    and you eat that... smirking, feeling
                                                 like a badass.

p.s. the best thing i received from
the university wasn't even the degree...
a chance to play squash, mountain climbing
(glen coe was a beau)...
         a t-shirt...
since, once i left: a self-teaching discipline.
Nikunj Dec 2012
out from school we came to jmc,
to become what our parents wanted us to be.
with NC we enjoyed harrapan and vedic civilization,
Ashima mam taught us Transition ( paleo to noelithic).
writing 10 sides answer seemed IMPOSSIBLE,
15/25 only left us numb.
coming for hindi at 8:30 was really irritating,
mam's msg of cancelling the class was even m
ore *******.
Tues and wed 8:30 were scolding days,
since frustated JS splited her anger on us.( though i like her lot)
om sai ram and gandhi was KN's department,
though antique, she was another inspiration.
enjoyed Montage for the first time,
Chronicle was the accomplishment for the lifetime.
first year ended so rapidly,
90%ees were satisfied with 60s.
then we met the iron lady of our department (chaddha mam)
she asked questions after every second point.
RS Sharma got replaced by sultans of delhi and Satish Chandra,
every notebook had words like sufi, bhakti and Iqta.
transition frm feudalism to capitalism muddled our heads,
Dobb and Sweezy never left us till the end.( remember jha's ******* :P)
enjoyed boston tea party and civil war in States,
though never understood out of khiljis and tuglaqs- who is great?
****** taught us stress, depression and suicide,
we almost got killed by Bronte's Wuthering Heights!
Orcha trip was another milestone,
Khajurao sculptures turned all of us on :P
pool party with "tinku jiya" was superfun,
each one of us made good connections.
Second year also got over and we entered in our own little world- T9.
everything was new to us,
future tension always bothered us!
Journey to China and Japan with Chakko was great,
though we never grew intellectually and understood decline of Shogunate.
Gazala mam introduced us to napoleon and bismarc,
became our friend. guide and mentor.
Chadda mam took us to royal court of mughals and rajputs,
but Iqta and jagir still confuses us!
Sleeping time came with menon's class,
18th cent and 1857 always bored us. (though i admit she is a great scholar)
we stopped studying and started enjoying life to the fullest,
since history taught us no matter what Peasant is the one who will be suppressed!
Montage 2012 rocked,
DJ Aqeel's ferrari left us in shock!
Postponing and preponing the classes was 3rd year's trait,
petty fights over it were always great.
Since first year we all wanted this day to come,
to wear saree and have FUN.
BUT....
the Farewell day has passed :(
From now onwards... NO cancelling or preponing classes, no prof to scold us, no NSS hours to complete, no deadlines of tuts, no canteen's samosas and macroni, no diwali mela, no Montage and Chronicle, no Ashok bhaiya, no ******* and commenting and last but not the least NO HISTORY HONS 3rd YEARS (2009-2012)
No one realised how these beautiful 3 years passed away.our eyes are wet but heart is content.
just wanted to tell everyone that i will miss you all. though i may have not interacted much with everyone, but I wish you all the very best for your future...

So superseniors,
leave all grudges behind and enjoy the last week of your college life at JMC to the fullest
Omar Kawash May 2015
In a time,
when men were the superheroes,
born in an unconventional location,

a young girl, unknown to the future
she was destined to,
was born with a uniqueness
unfound in all people, a superpower
of empathy
and as she grew,

the world knew
she was imbued
as a living embodiment of legends:

Athena's wisdom,
beauty that surpassed the goddess Aphrodite,
conversational skills that made Hermes envious,
and strength that Hercules
could never attain.

As she approached an age, when her parents would
trust her to be guardian,
her powers manifested.
This incredible child was now a woman.

With the ability to heal those in need: she could expunge
poison that had afflicted a person,
even their hearts,
a God-given gift for those most sacred;
her correspondences exponentially developed,
able to connect in all languages, fueled by her empathetic nature,
this allowed all who interacted with her to trust her for she radiates sincerity.

Now, fully grown, this super-no-

This Wonder Woman had retired her duties
to save the world, not forsake it, but,
to train Wonder Girl, her daughter,
to unlock the latent abilities her mother had passed on to her.

She still looks up at the Higher Power
and realizes her duty to provide
the world justice is not over
but only beginning.

Her holy spirit was not unacknowledged
and was gifted
a bulletproof bracelet,
forged by the most skilled craftsman by direction
of all that is wise and healing.

Given to her to wear
so that nothing could halt her
as she continues
her fate to provide the world a humanity
that could only come from
an intrinsically true
dear heart.
Lyra Brown Feb 2013
i scanned the room and wondered silently how many of these people
would care if i died,
how many would come to my funeral,
what kind of things they would say about me if i
ceased to exist.

i sat by myself
watching them
all the handsome talented boys interacted with the other
handsome talented boys
all the dilettantes interacted with the other dilettantes,
and all the other people just
interacted with the other people.

they made it look so easy,
so comfortable, so almost fun.
so impossible

i became so far removed from myself
i could hardly breathe
i was watching the people and all i could think of
was how badly i wanted death
perhaps not literal death,
but i wanted desperately to **** the part of me that would never be like
the people,
the part of me they don't
understand. the separated
part.

it's an illness.

so i sat alone in a bathroom stall waiting for the next musician to start
wondering when he would call me up on stage
so i could sing
and leave.
the stage is the only place
i feel at peace. i don't have to talk for them
i only need to sing for me.

they were everywhere, i was surrounded by them
i sat alone,
watching them
watching them
unable to complete a single sentence
or feeling
of any kind.
For years, Tim had the visions
Seeing things that no one could
If he spoke of them, he's crazy
He kept quiet, like he should
Just normal, little, visions
Of people who were dead
Just wandering in places
He knew weren't in his head

It started on vacation
He saw the "grey lady" in a room
At first, he thought the lighting
made what he saw there in the gloom
But, later, in his bedroom
while reading pamphlets on the place
she appeared there in his bedroom
But, he couldn't see her face

He kept his little secret
Not telling people she was there
She was mentioned by no others
So, he didn't really care
An undigested bit of beef
A piece of moldy bread
Like Dicken's Scrooge before him
She wasn't real, because she's dead

While still on his vacation
He saw two more, this time more clear
He saw one upon a staircase
And the other, much more near
They never interacted
Didn't know that he could see
But, he wondered "why could no other"
"see them 'cept for me?"

Two years had passed, he was at home
He was living on the coast
When one day he saw the woman
And he knew she was a ghost
The house was large, and gothic
With a widows walk on top
It was there he saw the woman
He shut his eyes to make it stop

She walked upon the rooftop
Looking out over the waves
Her dog was there beside her
Looking for someone to save
He walked away in silence
Turned to look, she was not there
He knew better than to think that
It was a trick of light and air

Turns out the spirit walker
Lost her husband in a wreck
He was a whaler, up in Portsmouth
He drowned and broke his neck
A wave came out of nowhere
Sank his boat, "The Lucky Hoof"
Now, his widow walks and watches
She is a fixture on the roof

He's seen children in the bushes
Not quite sure if they were real
But, could he talk about his visions ?
His dark secret to reveal
They never seemed to notice
That he saw them, they just were
So he'd watch them and he'd listen
Till the day that he saw her

She was sitting in the corner
Of a restaurant, alone one night
But as he watched a little closer
He saw no shadow from the light
She sat alone in silence
No one ventured where she sat
She was dressed in twenties clothing
A classy dress and flapper hat

Two nights went by, he saw her
Sitting exactly as before
When he asked about the table
He saw the table was no more
He had to find this woman
find out why she showed up here
He would investigate the building
But, first he'd have a beer

Turns out her name was Maisy
At least that's what he found out
She went missing from the building
Of this there was no doubt
No one knew which way she travelled
No one ever saw her go
But, the stories, oh the stories
Maisy, turns up...don't you know

The corner with the table
Was just a bricked up wall, that's all
It was constructed when she left here
By the old owner Joe Paul
There never was a reason
For the wall, it had no use
There could only be one reason
And I think you can deduce

Maisy never went and left here
Joe killed her late one night
It was an accident of passion
He had to hide her out of sight
But like Poes tale "The Telltale Heart"
She would show up in her seat
Only Joe could ever see her
No one else would Maisy meet

Tim went to the new owner
Told him of Maisy and her tale
Told him of The Widow Hanker
And her husband and his whale
Was he crazy ? or a mystic ?
The owner said "you are no clown"
And he said tonight at closing
The wall is coming down

They found dear Maisy waiting
In her dress and flapper hat
She was sitting at the table
She was dead, and that was that
The owner, shocked to silence
Stood and watched our mystic Tim
As he stood there while Maisy's spirit
Left this world and passed through him

Tim still has the visions
Still sees the woman and her hound
Still watching for her husband
Tim knows he won't be found
He knows which ones he's needed
To investigate, set free
And the rest of all the spirits
Well, Tim knows what is meant to be
Nola Leech Jan 2021
Sweet Tea wrote 3 months after I turned 15, 2018


Before you, I was a girl devastated by things I couldn’t change
Trapped in an endless bitter reality from which there was no escape
Sinking into a dark, spiraling well, from which I reached my hands and found a pool of light
You were my light, a haloed sunshine angel, who graced me with his presence for what seemed so long and ended so abruptly
The sound of your voice seemed to be honey, so sweet, attracting the bees, attracting me
My sunshine sweetheart, angel lover You’ve done your time so now you can leave
Why would you want to stay with me? I’m only a cement brick that will bring you down
A loose thread that will tear you down, a yammering parakeet who will wear you down
One time you told me that I thought too  highly of you
How couldn’t I? With someone who made me feel so confident with my body, somebody who praised me, someone who thought I was worth their time at least for the time being
In a way it’s better that you left, you’ll never be forced to see what I had to see looking in the mirror hating every inch of myself, hating the way I acted, and the way I interacted with everyone and hating the way no one seemed to like me
But you liked me, but it’s better this way because I’m a letdown
It’s Like when you thought you had bought sweet tea
But it’s actually unsweetened



The new version
Sweet Tea wrote 1 month before my 18 birthday, 2021

Before you, I was a girl alone
Being molested every day by the people who said they would take care of me
I was a fourteen-year-old girl who was taught at a young age to get yourself a man to save you
So I tried everything to keep you because talking to you distracted me from the fact my fourty-year-old stepdad was touching me
But what I definitely didn’t need was a twenty-year-old man messaging me
Telling me all the things he wanted to do to me
When the law would finally unclaim me and allow me to give someone a part of me he doesn’t deserve
You made me feel so much more alone
Somebody who told me he’d touch me
But instead of giving me what I’ll need he’ll leave
“Lick me up like an ice cream cone” huh Luke?
yes I thought highly of you
Because you made it seem like you’d never hurt me
You were the biggest disappointment
You always will be
original written about a man who groomed me in 2018 when I was 14, vs now I'm nearing 18 in 2021. as you can see I know how things are supposed to be now and I have stopped blaming myself
AmberLynne Sep 2014
I think there are parts of our
lives that we can't possibly know
the meaning of until we are
months or even years removed.
                                                                    I'm
talking inconsequential moments
that snowball, gathering up value
over time. Then you look back,
and suddenly you are just
                                                                    so
surprised at how many actions
interacted perfectly, the necessary
amalgamation of happenings to
bring about one exact minute. I'm
                                                                    glad
to have had this experience the
second you walked up. At that time
I could never have possibly known I
would be here today. Never guess
                                                                    you
would have such an impact on my
life, knocking an avalanche into my
world, leaving me gasping for breath,
showing me what it means to
                                                                    exist.
9.9.14
Àŧùl Jul 2013
Destiny* had had offered me a choice,
Good memory* or a best friend for life,
I don't much remember what I chose.
My memory had been much more better before a significant road accident.
My HP Poem #350
©Atul Kaushal
Nigdaw Apr 2023
as I left the theatre
she held the door open for me
the hint of a smile on lip-sticked lips
slipping into her leather jacket
to combat the cold night air
leaving an intoxicating trace of perfume
I'm just a face in the crowd
that she never noticed or will remember
" cheers " and an attempted smile
as we interacted for the only time
in our lives, but I miss her
she stole my lust
and a youth I never had
k e i May 2017
her patience was starting to wear thin, impatience growing as one of the pervs from the table across his eyes preying on her. she gave him the finger and her hardest glare.

where the hell are you  she typed out, texting him

be there in ten i kinda just got out of bed...sorry

she just sighed looking out the glass panes that gave a view of the busy street, letting her thoughts wander. sam was waiting for her bestfriend, noah to show up. she was going to help him find a flower shop that caters black roses. he was going to give it to jean, the girl of his dreams as he liked to call her (sam just knew how much of a cliche he was underneath; they barely had a conversation in which he didn't insert her-sam stuck up with it and listened to him, always assuring him that he's going to get her who wouldnt)

"sorry im late" he says, panting as he arrives, varsity jacket slung in his arms

"you owe me" sam says cooly, ignoring the drum pounding in her chest. he looked like he always did; and gave off the same effect to all the girls in town (he had quite a following though he didn't mind)

playfully he rolls his eyes at sam and the two walk their way into his beat up camaro (which was very good at overheating and taking too long to start)

"bet this thing would come up with its tricks again" sam started with their usual banter

"oh hell no it's got my back"

"your flat back"

"my bootiful ***"

sam scoffed "wanna bet?"

"game on" noah smugly retorts with the smug smirk on his face that showed off his angelic structures

"on three two....." sam had her fingers crossed please don't work please don't

noah tried gunning the engine a few more times, turning the key into the hole over and over again but the engine kept dying. he tried for one more time;it was a miracle that it did. he faced sam who's face turned down into a frown. "ha you owe me now"

"i owe you none" she says slumped in her seat though deep inside she was enjoying this. their friendship had alot of these immature playfulness which she usually started.

"just buy me an extra waffle cone and we're even"

"*******"

noah laughed and sam heard the lilt in his laugh that she grew fondly of. they drove off the road with only the radio to filter the silence for a while. sam started tracing patterns on the car window.

she felt something for noah and it wasn't something she expected, neither was it something she was looking for. the first time they ever interacted was in a class they both had. his eyes had that mischievous spark that day and  he wore a devilish grin-sam thought he was the perfect guy to turn into one of her casualties or better yet get his heart broken. but all they did after class that day was hangout and drive around town. sam was quite shocked with the numerous things they have in common. since then, they've meant alot to each other. although it was different for sam. sometime in their friendship she started feeling something for him, someting more than friends do .she hated it; the thought of it made her want to rev her guts out;

she was never the type to like guys or girls and fantasize about them being together or even feeling the same way. she was the type of girl who played with guys for a night (a week was her longest) whenever she felt like it. she toyed with their hearts and felt satisfied when she saw them with tears in their eyes. she felt no remorse for leaving them in the gutter. she was never vulnerable  she was a heartbreaker. she was that type of girl. but with noah it was all different, it was all new. it was like being on the other side of the spectrum

it frustrated her, all of it. most of all the fact that she couldn't do anything about it. she couldn't just steal him away from jean especially now that he stood a chance. plus, he was serious about her, sam could tell-even if she tried making moves on him, he'd leave because that wasn't how he knew her-they went so well together: her being on the cheerleading squad with her perfect friends and her perfect grades, perfect life ahead and him being the quarterback of the football team and the perfect college waiting for him, heir to his father's company someday-they were the power couple. they deserve each other sam thought bitterly. she could be one of the "perfect" girls in her school if she tried. but she didn't, didn't find the need to because why bother? she'd rather be on the outside and deal with her own company and just resurface whenever she felt like it. he had dreams;she didn't. she was just a heartbreaker, a mess.

yet she didn't want to lose noah; couldn't lose noah-it wasn't a risk she was willing to take. around him she let down the high walls she usually was encaged in and instead had vine trellises wrapping around her almost as if caressing her. it wasn't like in the movies but it was a **** cliche which she felt in gradual waves.she could hear wind chimes in the edges of her nicotine corrupted lungs whenever she was with him and none of the nails splintering against board in the emptiness of her house she felt in the dark while her sister slept soundly in the next room, none of the stale unfamiliarity of her mother working herself thin in her round the clock shifts, staggering home the next morning smelling like alcohol. she felt something other than the hollow in her stomach when she's out partying with strangers, the bass sounding too much like her heart breaking and her existence decomposing. she felt none of the filth she did when she slept with guys and let them make love with their exes through her body. she felt none of all the ugliness, heard none of the monsters' calls. noah made her feel pure. made her feel bliss. there was no irony, no catches, no waiting for the other shoe to drop in what they shared.

some days she's accepted that they'd always remain platonic, that it was better for them to stay this way. but today wasn't one of those days, for it was one where she wanted nothing but to plant her lips against his and make him tell her that he feels the same, for him to wrap her arms around her and bury her face in the crook of his neck, drown in all their memories, become the memories become an us. it wasn't love but he made her feel loved.

her daydreams were cut short when noah parked the car infront of the flower shop near the outskirts of town. she smoothed her hair as noah opened the car door for her. she felt her palms sweat, immediately telling her brain that he was really just sweet and it's jean that he likes stop spewing up hurricanes and thunders for every sweet thing he does.

"so first stop"

"i still don't get why you can't just buy her a bouquet of plain roses and spray paint it black. i'll help out yknow" she replies in her usual mocking way as they enter the shop, the floral fragrance enveloping them.

"because you gotta put all your effort and your heart to get her"

"yeah right, hey you gotta put effort in spray painting too yknow like shaking the can and making sure the roses are all covered. we can cover your heart in black paint as well if we still got any left" she replies sarcastically as they start perusing for black roses.

he rolls his eyes at his best friend, throwing one of the discarded dandelions at her direction. she picks one up and throws it at him quickly. it was only a matter of minutes til they were both on the floor laughing, sneezing in intervals, dandelions scattered around them. the florist scolded them when he saw the mess they caused and made them pay for a daisy and a petunia boquet that was haphazardly upturned in their rowdiness-no black rose in sight.

sam laughed as noah took out his wallet and paid the florist who's face was now red. she heard him mutter a sheepish apology and for a moment, she allowed or tried to let herself get lost in the fact that she and her bestfriend were spending the day together she tried to forget that she was spending the day with him to help him be with the girl that he likes.
hi this is my first time here
and this is a new writing style of mine
let me know what you think about it
x
I cannot give what I do not have.
I had it once.
I was created/born with it (I think).
I lost it, first time diagnosed,
Most recent when insane,
Do NOT lose trust in your own mind,
I cannot give what I do not have.....
My own mind.........
Doubt asks multiple questions,
I have zero percent answers now,
I know once it gets to less than zero
The negative space will have won.....
And I will have changed.......
But without your current positive space
Within negative space I cannot
Continue with you.
......here we are and I am friends
With
Doubt.......
I face everyone everyday.......
(lots of dots - no negative signs except for this break previously)
Face with Doubt - acceptance, reluctance, no choice - ance :-)
I Learn to question every thought and re-question the motivation behind,
Behind (no mistake) the thought (but my mind slows, I know)
If motivation is OK/acceptable (i.e. non harming - i injured/destroyed insects on the steps to my current housing - I tried avoidance but without guarantee - drink helps ease this guilt also)
Then if the thought will not result in negative spacial harm ( I have no way of quantify-ing this until after the fact but it helps future decision making - (when I can remember :-(      )
but again i lack future projection skills - anyone who reads this with whom I have never physically interacted with - how am I (i) supposed to know the difference/change - too many **ing strange coincedences in my life have helped my current world environment view - but I digress - maybe i should end this :-) - night night (in Eire) and no more beer :-)  listening to 'nice' (personal intrepretation) music now - stop typin....... )
First in-the-moment poem (cant imagine these sober = major current fault but ....) excuse the spelling mistakes :-) dont have a clue as to where it ended up as compared to my first thought - which was I can give TRUST anymore - sorry but true - but probably a good thing since I am still here???? doubt again - whatever - what tags?..............
Hello, York Suburban! It’s great to be here today, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be...speaking...than right here...with all of my awesome classmates. I can’t believe we made it here, you know, this was a really great experience, going through school and everything. Back in the day, before our generation became obsessed with social media and electronic stimulation, I used to have a past-time that I greatly enjoyed. I don’t practice this...practice, much anymore, but back when I was young, I used to watch cable tv a lot. I know, I’m really dating myself here. When I say dating myself, I mean, we’ve been dating for a little over 18 years, myself and I, that is. Anyway, watching tv, yes, and when I used to watch tv, I saw what our media portrays as a usual high school life. And much like everything the media portrays, I later found out that high school is nothing like how it is portrayed. I used to think it would be a bunch of young adults standing around, talking about each other, with each other, waiting a few tenths of a second for the studio audience to start laughing, that part was definitely only on tv. (If no laughs, move on. If laughs, say, maybe it wasn’t only on tv). Anyway, yeah, they were all standing around talking on tv, so young, gullible me, I thought  I would just stand around and talk for four years. In order to prepare for this activity known as high school, I proceeded to wear what I thought everyone wanted me to wear, I only expressed myself when I thought I should, not when I wanted to. And for my first year, that was about all I did, more or less. I was scared at first, I was defensive and I loved my life back then, but my life was motivated by fear way too much. My whole life changed after that like the sun changes the sky when it rises. There was a light that came into my life, or should I say, the light came from within myself. I had revelations about my motivations, my beliefs, and how I wanted to live my life. Once I started being who I wanted to be and making choices that were good for me and were the choices I wanted, I started to love myself. During my time at York Suburban, thanks to all of the amazing people I interacted with, I learned to love my life more and more every day. I learned that if I continued to express myself, I would increasingly love myself as well. Expressing yourself is so important because it doesn’t just build your confidence, it builds you! When you express yourself, you learn what you like and don’t like about yourself, and that’s what happened to me. Even though a lot of my high school career was unfortunately spent alone, or feeling isolated in some way or another, I really loved watching other people express themselves and have fun. I always wanted everyone to express themselves more because I learned that I love watching people express themselves, it’s the most beautiful behavior I’ve ever seen and that will never change. I learned so much from every person I had the privilege of interacting with, so thanks everyone, you know, that was really great. I love you all! And that won’t ever change. But I can’t promise I’ll remember all of your names, and I don’t expect you to remember many either. Kids these days, you know, always overstimulated by media and smart phones haha. But when you leave, really take yourself with you! Take yourself and hold on to what you love within yourself. That’s enough, you don’t have to hold on to any memories here. Siddhartha Gautama (also known as Buddha) once said, “Do not dwell in the past, do not dream of the future, concentrate the mind on the present moment.” It’s sad to leave this all behind, but leave it all behind. It’s ok to be happy and remember the good times, but I love you all, I want you to succeed! Don’t just remember memories, create memories! Keep changing yourself, changing people around you, and changing the world until your body runs out of energy! That’s all I ask. I’d like to thank all of the employees here at York Suburban High School for giving our class a healthy and constructive environment, full of excellent role models, and good life lessons. And thanks to my family too, especially my brother Max, he’s really cool. Also, check out my Hello Poetry account, Nick Gati ;) haha. I had to plug at least one electronic media account, this is our generation! And before I leave, I would like to recite a rap that I wrote.

Class of 2015
Let me say what I mean
I’ve been inside this machine
For four years and I’ve seen
People loving and hating
People giving and taking
People in boots shaking
People with hearts breaking
I’m like Kendrick Lamar without the beats or the fame
I’ve got rhyme and time, I’ve got pride and shame
It took me too long to make my life mine
It took me too long, but I’m right on time
I love being weird here before you all
I love it so much, but let me take this call
“Hello? I am currently giving a speech
Before I go to IUP to learn how to teach.
I’ve gotta speak these bars to try to communicate
How all we need is love, we don’t need any hate
So let me hang up, I’ll call you tomorrow.”
MY WHOLE LIFE has been consumed by too much sorrow
It was hard, at times, to navigate my way
I had times where I’d go days not knowing what to say
Until I found all the answers written in my mind
Until I changed myself and became one of a kind
Thank you all for letting me express myself
And express yourself too, leave your pride on the shelf
Love people, love life, and remember these words,
Life is about listening and letting others know that they’re heard
Hannah P Jun 2018
Skin,
Our protection.
A guardian we take for granted.
I was taught in
Science class how
 The skin is our
Barrier and protects us
From countless enemies.
A shield that is responsible
For keeping us healthy and safe.
But yet we abuse it,
We show it no gratitude.

When I was a kid
I allowed myself
To go roller skating without my
Knee pads,
Despite the infinite reprimands
My mother provided.
A scraped knee
Wasn’t anything a Band-Aid
And some time
Couldn’t fix.
I thought the band-aids in
The bathroom cupboard
Held some type of magic in the box
That I could not fathom
That patched up my skin
As if nothing ever happened.

But then I was taught in science class that
It was my skin performing
These magic tricks.
I remember those scolding hot
Summer days
Spent on the beach with my friends
Where the waves absorbed
Any sunscreen I had massaged on my body
And my face turned
Crimson from soaking in the rays.
But the burn always tempered
Down into a glowing tan
After the aloe soothed
The stinging.
In science class
I constantly overlooked
How our own flesh
Performed these illusions
To shield us from harms.

In science class
I studied how our skin
Interacted with the outside world.
How sensations were
Directed to the tips of my fingers
And goose bumps rose on
My arms.

But I was never taught
How to experience them.
I never questioned it though;
Unitl I met him.
Everything I was taught

Got lost,
As I had in his presence.
The way he gazed at me,
The way he talked to me,
The way he stroked my skin.
It gave me all those sensations
They had talked about in science class.

Everything happened so fast,
Everything happened too fast.
Intoxicated hands held me too close
And my intoxicated heart let them.

I forgot what science class burned
Into my brain and
I gave him my skin.
I let him become my armor.
I let him corrupt my flesh
Just as I had so many times before.
His finger nails
And teeth
Sunk deep into me
Leaving patters of desire in each layer
That soon soaked into my veins.
Our rib cages pressed together,
Both our hearts rattling
Within our chests,
Stimulating our brains to send signals
Allowing serotonin and oxytocin
To spill out,
Premising his lips to outline my body.

No science class ever
Taught me how to react
To my blood pressure rising,
To my sweat glands heating up.
No science class ever taught me
Why I wanted more,
Why the marks he left on my skin
Didn’t ache like a
Sunburn or scraped knee.

I trusted him,
With his hands full
Of my skin,
And the way that he
Made me feel;
I felt safe.

No science class taught me
That I could feel so
Alive,
And I loved it.

But when he was done with me,
My skin felt wrinkled
And used.
When he gave it back,
It was no longer mine,
He took it with him.
My skin cells lingered
Next to his nail beds
As he dressed himself.

No science class taught me
Why I felt so desolate
As he walked out the door,
With simple goodbyes,
That did not need to be spoken,
And no amenity in his eyes.
No science class taught me
The feeling of numbness found
As my heart rate decomposed
In my hallow chest,
Knowing I let him take my
Shield and watched him destroy it
Right in front of me.
No science class taught me
The bite marks and scratches he left
Would always be sore
Even after they have healed.

No Band-Aid or magic trick
Could fix the damage
He left for me to patch up
By myself.
No science class taught me
I would feel
The sensations of
Love and loss
Aching through my bones.
No amount of horomones
Could change his mind,
Or tug on his heart strings.
So why I thought I was
Invincible when I was with him,
I can’t understand.

But it is my fault
For not memorizing my
Notes from science class and
Sticking to the known facts
Of my own anatomy.
But I do know
After years and years of
Being lectured in school,
No science class could teach me
What my own damaged skin could.

Love and science will never coincide
And love cannot be found
In the physicality of
A one night stand.
Don't Exist Apr 2014
Our bodies are borrowed
yes, it is not hard to comprehend
it's not a poetic metaphor
nor is it a intellectual endeavor

our bodies are borrowed...

it might seem strange at first
but then it starts to make sense
but its crazy

our bodies are borrowed...?

Hello, for your whole life you was borrowing something
your soul borrowed the body made from your mother
a mom whole also borrowed her body who sexually interacted with another person with a borrowed body
whose parents created them with borrowed bodies
all the way to the beginning

our bodies are borrowed....!!!????

that means our life is borrowed
our kids are borrowed
our happiness are borrowed
our darkness are borrowed
our ****** activities are borrowed
even our souls are borrowed

our bodies are borrowed??????

Now will you continue this borrowed reality or use your borrowed body to create a world?
a world that doesn't require a borrowed body?
a body of your own?
This poem is kinda shaky. Please comment and don't just ready. Don't be scared.
Dan Feb 2019
I saw the best minds of my generation
Brutally isolated from those around them
Surrounded by series of boxes
Some meant to relay
Some meant to contain
All passively made to control

And past all of these boxes we can see
The place where the grass is greener
Where the trees are taller and stronger
Where the animals live
We call that place wilderness
Some say we used to call it home
Some others say that when we did
Life was nasty
Brutish
Short
Well
Many of these days I would prefer that to
Long
Meaningless
Alienated
But it really depends on ones perspective

See the problem with Civilization is that somewhere down the line someone has to take the full force of the trauma
Whether that’s indigenous people
Robbed of their land
Forced to work in Rare Earth Mineral mines
Or sweatshop factories in foreign countries
Or Facebook content moderators in Arizona
Forced to be subjected to violent murders and graphic *******
Their bathroom breaks are monitored
They are ordered to stop praying if it takes too long
All so your racist uncle can share news articles from PatriotPress.com
And people who haven’t interacted with you in years can wish you a happy birthday
This is the price we pay for our convenience
This is the passive acceptance that our comfort is more valuable than their lives
I heard that the first megamachine was made with human parts
Now we witness that machine cannibalize itself

What is the alternative to this concrete techno-Hell?
I hope that one day we cast off this Leviathan whose tentacles wrap around our necks
To live a life of lower standards but higher meanings and ambitions
To live simply
With nature and not at its expense
It’s not a past to return to
But a future we fight for
Where the grass will be greener
But only because
We let it grow
Star G Apr 2015
I don't wish for many things from others.
But I do wish the most from myself.

I wish I could play the guitar, the piano,
the ukulele, the violin, the cello; as many
instruments as I possibly can.

I wish I had amazing grades, like 90's
and 100's on all of my educational
classes; and that I had joined the PAP and
AP courses sooner in order to impress
colleges and universities.

I wish I was more slim than I am now,
and that I had attractive curves - not as
in oversized *******, but as in nice
curves on my stomach, legs and arms.

I wish I was pretty, as in big beautiful
and attractive eyes, soft and colored
(not pale) lips, clear skin free of acne
and ****** hair, long and luscious and
silky hair, soft skin, and a cute nose.

I wish I was a nice sister, one who
didn't ignore her siblings, who
interacted with them and got along
with them greatly.

I wish I was an amazing daughter and
family member, one who didn't argue
and wasn't distant from her parents, who
visited her family members frequently
and was sociable with them all.

I wish I had the best personality, one that
didn't ignore her friends and family, one
that always made people smile and laugh,
one that was sweet & nice to everyone,
one that was perfect.

I wish I was perfect.

Too bad they're all wishes.
This is a poem from the deepest and most secret part of myself that I desperately try to hide and deny.
It's just so hard to keep existing
Can't keep the walls up,
Because it's hard to do that alone,
And everyone can see
That I'll always be stuck on the outside,
From being too quiet
And too alone.

I know I have to stay,
But I really want to go.
How I "manage" is by finding ways
Of waiting till it's over.
I know I'll have to be trapped in a room,
Full of many others.
Everyone expects me to talk,
Without thinking I will only be distraught.

I don't feel people looking at me,
Unlike I've heard people say,
Instead I just get this harsh feeling of dread
That I can't be there any longer.
My insides feel torn,
Because I just have this feeling I can't explain to you.
All I can say is that I could never feel worse.
I want to escape but this is my curse.

I'd love to be able to talk to you guys,
But I'm afraid I feel I am breaking inside.
So just don't talk to me
And don't look close either,
And if I'm staring into space,
Then I don't want to be here.

If I'm supposed to be social:
Then I don't know what to say,
My heart will feel like it's floating away.
Heart palpitations are not what I seek,
Although I still happen to get them most weeks.
It's hard enough,
To wake up and think:
Today I have to get up
And surround myself with too many people and lost dreams.

I want to be social.
I would wish for it,
And sometimes I do,
But it doesn't seem like it will ever come true.
My longed for ambitions shall never be complete,
For they require social abilities
Which I cannot meet.
When I manage the simplest things,
That no one else has to think about,
I am just completely amazed at myself;
Like someone saying hello to me,
The fact that it happens
And responding back,
However after that one encounter,
I feel as though it's drained me,
Because I had just interacted
With another human being.
Hal Loyd Denton Oct 2012
What thoughts most admirable to take the emotional avenue to create to see in your mind a one of a
Kind person get the soul right and then move to the exterior that which would be seen and interacted
With for a life time what an undertaking but what else could make such sparks and the tremendous
Emotional swell to go to this place stand before the quietest shimmering possibilities a personality like
No other accepting the fact there would be common traits that everyone has but this is special this is
Horrendous in the idea no tolerance for error can exist this new person with functionality of will and
Freedom to express it demands nothing less so lies social justice and order then the operation of
Communicating what extreme place of awe you have to stand at to attempt this feat the tone the
Measure it will exact in the human drama of life seemingly simple but genius throughout in form and
Substance a constant flow that was the sum total of exquisite harnessed displayed in ordinary you need
To think on these matters when negatives penetrate the operational defense they should die as you
Contemplate how marvelously and wonderfully you are made your being passes the greatest minds and
Achievements our language is beset and besieged for a temporary time so the best we offer is listen
Here buster but behind that there is an imprisoned intellect that is now subject to the winding and trifle
Terms of existence but in those confines what beauty what treasure is hinted at the suppressed holds
Such revered qualities if we could get this psychiatry would be reduced greatly what a storehouse you
Are every need in human existence is there every fixation has deep roots foundational bedrock you
Were mined in a divine realm your feet are weighted to earth but over riding this is spirit that can’t be
Held completely to the functions of the body what immortal springs call to you as you have a thirst for
Them nothing else will satisfy why else is there such unexplained anxiety the Psychiatrist can’t give this
Answer because they follow the same path that is ignorance that parades as intelligent comprehensive
Analysis which you can plainly judge as ineffective and man trying to answer spiritual complexity with
Limited understanding I guess it is hard to unravel the statement that we are all fearfully and
Wonderfully made this writing comes from me looking at your picture truth truly will set you free
L A Lamb Sep 2014
In an overpopulated world, vanity is necessary for survival. The need of the self, above all else, becomes a main factor in the daily pursuit of happiness. Anyone who’s made a difference was extremely aware of themselves, and that was the difference. Humankind is raised to do so, or at least the strongest among it are.



The depression came and went like strong tides. It seemed to be controlled by some satellite, indeed, some forlorn object which she could neither control nor pinpoint. Still, the presence was always there, surging predictably in what she considered routine cycles. “Is my entire life to be lived like this?” She looked for meaning in it. She looked for meaning in the root of it. The cause was disappointing.



She grew up to be a tall American stunner. She didn’t have to try to be slender and she didn’t have to try to be pretty—she merely was. This realization didn’t occur until she was eleven years old, though, and she went through childhood being gawky, wishing she was privileged and had male parts. As a younger girl, she noticed the gender differences among her peers in the ways they interacted. In elementary school, during recess, it was assumed that the boys would dominate the basketball courts and other “balled” sports and the girls stuck with jump ropes, hopscotch and jungle gyms. This carried on outside of school also.



The boys of the neighborhood would play games outside, showing off their competition, athleticism and strength, and she too wanted to play. She was occasionally allowed to partake in such activities of privilege, and her cousin who was similar in age lived across the street. “It’s okay, she can play with us,” he’d vouch for her, but if the majority ruled her out, she had to leave. Depending on who was present, the situation played out differently. “She’s a girl!” was the general excuse to not include her.



One day, however, the neighborhood boys did allow her to play a game with them. This game involved throwing and catching a ball, but whoever had the ball was targeted and sought after to be “smeared”. She felt proud that the boys finally decided to include her, although she didn’t question why they didn’t at first—the acceptance itself was enough for her. She stood on the field eagerly, reaching out her arms when she saw the ball fly in her direction and calling out to have the ball passed to her. They wouldn’t.



She was an obstacle, something to avoid running into another body that served no use to the boys, and therefore she was ignored. She was slighted by this, but retained her optimism and ran around in proximity, pretending to be involved. After several minutes of this, one boy, who was about to be smeared and had no other options of passing, tossed the ball to her. Thrilled, she caught it and ran. She was chased by the boys because she had the object they wanted, but once she gave it away, they immediately lost interest and chased whoever had it. That was the way the game was played.



The ball was passed to her twice again after the first time, before a particularly aggressive boy, who she recognized as one of the boys not wanting her to play, tripped her. She did not possess the ball, but he targeted her for some reason which she did not know. She stood up and resumed playing, but his aggressively towards her resumed, and he tripped her again. This time the other boys noticed. He laughed audibly and the other boys stared. Her humiliation caused her to shed tears, and the humiliation was further extended by this weakness. The drive of anger was stronger, however, and something inside her desperately and obsessively stirred.

She rose, and the act of standing up charged her wildly, so much that the drive of attacking him seemed like something she couldn’t suppress. She ran over to him and tackled him. She leapt towards him and forced him on the ground, and he pulled her shirt and tried to pin her down. She kept her legs strong and loose, maneuvering her body on top of his in a straddle he couldn’t escape. She looked down at his wretched face of what she viewed as hatred and she punched it again and again, cocking her right fist back and giving relentless blows as she could deliver them. He thrusted his hips up, knocking her off balance and slung his arm across, slapping her face and knocking her over.



They aggressively rolled around on the ground, and the other boys stared in amazement at the bizarre display. She felt the need to crush him, to hurt him, to show him pain he wouldn’t expect from her. She was awakened and aroused, strong and determined, and the rush of fighting gave her strength to use her body in ways she never before imagined. She regained her position on top of him, locking her legs against his side and began repeatedly scratching his face until she felt his skin cells collecting under her nails. The power she felt encouraged her to scratch harder, and his squirming body and scrunched face crying out in discomfort began to grow red. Lines of blood scattered across his face in vertical and diagonal directions, and her relentless lust for making him pay hampered her ability to measure the price paid.



A neighbor’s door opened, and before she could see who might see her, she rose up and ran away. The boys who stood staring rushed to the boy on the ground with the scratched face, ignoring her flee. She ran across to her house before anyone could notice. She never looked back, and when she got home, she hid under her bed for hours. During these hours, she felt the fear of having challenged conventions, and having lost control as a result. The combination made her feel in control for the first time in her six years of existence. Eventually her mother came into her room and asked what she was doing. “Nothing,” she sheepishly responded. She crawled out and left the room. Her mother’s initial concern subsided, as she knew her daughter was a queer girl.
Connor Nov 2016
(A wall with grainy, white tile misses being appreciated by the passive glance!)

This open Hotel window reveals the encasement of a city wearing its own
Labels stirring distinctly

Monochrome sculptures
Increasing eye the gradiant of
A voice
The dialogue of a coffin sleeping
And the
Waterfront smokes tired cruiselines and
Already wishes for Sundown & good spirits.

Some burdened Animal lept from
Its grindings of clean survival &
Has written an essay on

Fire in relation to psychological warmth
& the associative memory response to comfort

(The fireplace is your Childhood & lost Faerie Mother)

The lapse of this Tidal Concerto
As wet pebbles ripple over each other like Tokyo haircuts,

I am the collector of
Distant and missed opportunities

I keep them close as potentialities and not regrets

I have a fishtank full of drowned Bees
& phonecall revelations

As Humidity only sensed and not sweated
Boils from a desk drawer in the Summertime

LAUGHING STAIRCASES/
LOBOTOMY IN NIGHTMARES OF VICIOUS ORCHIDS/
THE CRIB HAS LOST ITS FUNCTION/

           A CRABSHELL HAS REPLACED
           THE PILLOW/
          
           MY TEETH ARE NUMB
           WITH YOUR KISS
          
           YOUR KISS ERASED BY
           THE SUDDEN SALTWATER OF A
           HIGHTENED MOMENT
          
           DO NOT RETREAT BACK TO
           BRASS SPEECH
           OR COMMON BELIEF


Stresses paused on
Gysins colorful meditations
& Nat King Cole sings of no
Orange Colored Sky instead
A silent rotating lightbulb
And the sensation of lifting off my chair

(few nights in a row of this ambience behind a glass door)

"-the illusion of existing on the edge of a comforting unalterable space and in being so close to it, I blend into it!
A man with a telescope residing on a mountain top can observe the town below in a detailed entirety. It's the larger and more obvious/physically active space. The mountain distant from the town is a space of reflection, where things are less chaotic. Where peace is more inwardly recognized in its external shelter. In the corner I have this illusory telescope and I am perched on the mountain, who's properties have flattened to the dimensions of a coffee shop, or a general interior. The wholeness of the mountain reserved to the confines of a dark corner. Behind the brickwork exists a vast valley where this mountain once stood in its humble yet ferocious silence. The space which now exists in an imaginary context. The expansion of darkness in front of us!"

           Come forth from that Mexican
           Practice
           Or the vengeance of a sobbing
           Hand,
           Friend

I, willing to play weary in
ur aztec smile/
Am to slip from a shivering
Elevator
To ***** my finger with a name

A name that I have never interacted with until now!

"UNE FEMME EST UNE FEMME"
Followed by gossiping
& accommodations
Downstairs,

I hope you wake easy to find my
Skinny hand warming you from December's hesitant grave.
Hal Loyd Denton Jan 2012
Enlightened Joy
E. J.

Son this piece was requested by your Auntie Ann now a lot will say you are limited because you can’t
Speak or walk or all those things others take for granted but here is the first secret your limitations’ only
Make other peoples possibilities stand out so highly so for awhile I’m going to turn my gaze your way don’t
Worry it won’t hurt at all it might hurt some for their wrong thinking as already spoken there are so
Many children they flow in a course in this life but God chose a higher one for you this life is truly just a
Dress rehearsal then we take our place on the eternal stage this is some of the stories and facts when
Your life is reviewed you have a bridge component first and foremost you are an emotional deep spring
You are not interacted with by a standard means of communication but by feelings a bridge naturally
Suggests water well this also has to mean a dam if we are talking about a lake and we are any one can
Come into your presence and they are carried over from the humdrum craziness that is going on in their
Life you also afford them a dam that holds back trouble bad thoughts or the trying circumstances that
Constantly wash against lives in your life is found a quiet calm the wind isn’t to high but there is a fair
Breeze jangled nerves find perfect Equanimity it describes a complete openness to experience, without
Being lost in reactions of love and hate. It’s a powerful quality in its own right if your mind becomes firm
Like a rock and no longer shakes in a world where everything is shaking your mind will be you’re greatest
Friend and suffering will not come your way this quote perfectly describes the doorway you provide into
A sanctum of peace and shelter the whole world seeks this but rejects the one who promised it freely in
Your life these valuable qualities are found and freely enjoyed you are not just black and white but a
Rainbow glows vividly God put special effects in the sky to mix and complement one another the sun
Shines through droplets of water giving an array of colors your life holds and bends people that they to
Create emotional rays that spray the earthen sky with wonder so many miss the actions of love and
Grace because they think it should happen a different way look what they missed when they couldn’t
Look beyond the stable where he was born he gave you a life that doesn’t fit every ones idea but it was
Perfect for what God envisioned you never judge or deny love you come with complications and we are
To earthbound to spend the time to unravel the mystery that is for our blessing you give and hold great
promise I have described a few of them God designed it to take a lifetime to understand and know them
all love to you big boy thanks for being different it opens and gives opportunity to explore a different
means of understanding value is greater than just the obvious measure of people.
Megan Mae May 2011
The car ride is normal, simple and polite. But we smile the whole way, pretending not to care, taking advantage of the light. So here we are on the way to 'LARP', you upset, yet I'm even worse. True the joke was funny, the rest of the group knew...and when they saw you their smiles simply grew. You asked for a fountain, they pointed the way, and once you were out of earshot they couldn't help but say...

''He has no idea does he?'' Kurei asked with a big broad smile.
''He's going to have one hell of a game'' Garrus claimed with a padded blade.
"He'll never know what hit him." Umbrus chimed as he unlatched his swords.
I sigh and smile at them each and said, "Lets just start this game."

How does the line go? Stab me in the face you're **** out of luck... stab me in the back you're.....?

The game begins, I avoid you like the plague. I wouldn't even fight you with in distance of a hand grenade. If I ever interacted with you, it was simply to sing a song. My simple Siren Song paralyzed you and left you to the mercy of my friends. I myself never attacked or 'killed you' I wouldn't even dare...The one time I 'took your arm' you whined like no one was there.

"Why did you hurt me?" you asked foolishly, true with a smile, but why ask at this game?
"You're my enemy," Avexi snapped, not even me. Oh how when I have the chance...I can be so mean.

The game continued, you couldn't keep alive, you still had fun though- some how you tried. You always tried to come at me, you always tried to attack. Thank the lords Umbrus and Kurei always had my back.

Finally the game was over, and the whole team knew the line. They kept back from smiling, kept back every time. 'You stab me in the face, you're **** out of luck...You stab me in the back...

I bring you to LARP!'
Ju Lia Dec 2016
I have wandered among these sidewalks for lifetimes,
I have made a home out of busy sidewalks and small patches of dying grass
I meander with past friends in the middle of empty roads,
With no destination in mind.


I’ve lived amongst thousands of others,
We pass each other daily
Greeting each other with shy smiles and a brief nod
To part and never unite again


I have interacted with this city through the earth
I walk its roads until I can no longer feel my legs,
And I shall continue
Until I have mapped out every inch of my home


This city consists of my raw emotions;
I will always carry this city with me


No matter which new streets I may roam,
No matter which new sidewalks I may take solace in.
C Dec 2017
We are ****** into the reflective pools of narcissism that we hang on the walls,
pushing us further into the millions of
personalized tunnels of vanity
that lead to self-obsession and greed and ignorance.

These tunnels are separated
by thin pieces of glass,
through which the world and others existing in it
can be easily observed and interacted with if we choose to.
For some reason, though, we don't.

We are hypnotized by the images of ourselves.
We are fascinated with the way we feel,
not paying mind to how others emote.

"Listen to learn and understand,
not just to respond."
" - H dawg
Mateuš Conrad Feb 2016
but i like drinking and i like the drinking me;
plus there's ~8 billion of us,
what sort of personal are you trying to get,
considering that everyone else
is attempting to create a personality
without a personal life to be mentioned,
look how you can create a disclosure of a personal
life without the narcissism of a personality
that's nothing more than p.r.;
yes, i'd like a postcard from you,
but in the oddity that's the internet,
an interactive phone book... an interactive phone book,
you never... you never seem to peer intently
at anything but the basic visage surface of
not interacted with.*

i too shed a crocodile tear
when i didn't, and could be boyfriend material,
but my libido wasn't satiated aged 18 to 21...
and when a girl readied herself to shoelace me as boyfriend
material... it was already too late...
by that time i objectified too much,
and was given too much object than subject
because i didn't experience the object enough
and because of that, couldn't find a subject to
relate to: wedding ring, gown, napkins, life insurance...
i just turned my hand, a ******, into a feminine skull
and read kant... oops...
i also found cosmopolitan magazine query material
as she stated to be ahead of girlfriend,
ahead of wife... mother was long gone,
as the title entitles a change of dimension
of the ones who did the pyramid in reverse...
girlfriend comes last for them...
or at least they congregate in old age
when all the males are dead and the females
are left alive...
i wish i didn't start ******* aged 8...
but i also wish i didn't...
there was no pathology inclined when puberty
kicked in...
i'm against 8 billion people and only one answer
that's a spectacle, akimbo by the the Thames river
by Tate modern...
'i'm telling you, get the paranoia drill ready...
i've been shopping in the same Tesco for a month,
a bottle of whiskey and a few beers a night...
today i spotted a change... they changed the generic
everyday value labelling to SCOTS CLUB
at 50 *** (pence) more... the shufflers
wearing gloves murmured: something,
something different... when i'm dead they'll just
say rasputin walked these aisles...
the generic bottling of whiskey disappeared...
but still the generic labelling anti-capitalism cheap
of citric barley with caramel colouring at 17 pence...
well, that's me.'
there's two of them buying excess wine...
i elongate **** after wine, i can't hibernate day-to-day...
hey arab! lookout, you diabetic wannabe,
check your sugar levels before you ask me to
check the percentage of alcohol when i walk...
watch it.
two girls talking, want to include me,
one says her boyfriend texts her with accusation
as if they're married...
the other asks whether the one accusing her boyfriend
of matrimony lax will pay for the bottles of wine...
she says she's phil collins... so she's o.k. next day
in paradise:
celibacy ogling i too add: i'll be playing the tummy
tum drum when the echoes of hunger recede
into feline growls, or hidden burps.
Mateuš Conrad May 2016
as an antidote to the poetic of onomatopoeia, i simply won't allow such a desecration, the ruinous cloud of plum purple hangs over language with this one poetic technique, just before the barrage of rain falling like a vertical tsunami, as i found myself fishing in Poland, the white-precursor of Mickiewicz's castles turned into horses' gallop... and then foo! a monsoon in 5 minutes... the fish? quiet big, but since kept in a reservoir, a bit fat... actually... too fat. seriously, the onomatopoeia has to go, we can't be found imitating sounds of inanimate things... or debasing our use of phonetic encryptions with sounds of edible creatures... why... if we kept at it, you'd see monkeys building the coliseum and man playing the Mongolian harmonica of vibrating lips and the index finder moving up and down to their tune; plus i think onomatopoeia is the culprit of excessive spelling in english... i know, the keeping of necessary aesthetics but come on... moo vs. μ?

and i wish to lessen the optic strain for continuing
subject matter non-italicised...
you know what's more interesting than paying attention
to the use of onomatopoeia like that, the crudest
musicological element of poetry (well, rhyming is
also up there) - English is perfect, it's a-diacritical
(ah or a? never mind) - you have to start to imagine
the language like a blank canvas, but not necessarily,
what's more interesting in this vector rather than
clinging to onomatopoeia technique is that you
can apply anti-onomatopoeia, distinctions, accents,
yesterday it became revelatory,
it's roland garros on the television, after the days
events there's a program with Mats Wilander
(Swedish no. 1, seven grand slams between 1982 and
1988) and a blonde woman presenter,
i picked up my loss of interest in using onomatopoeia
to profile her origin... she could have been of any
European ethnicity... but the accent... it just landed
in my ear... German... and indeed, without an information
bracket on the programme's description, it was
Barbara Schett... you see, you paint the accents, it's
more interesting that way given the nakedness of English
compared with other siblings of the alphabet high-jacked
from Roman; you end up pricking your ears to attune
accents that than ol' McDonald had a farm.

that was my initial fascination, the lie of Eden passed down,
like Voltaire on his deathbed being read his departing word,
his own encoded as: this is not the time  to make enemies
he was referring to the devil)...
also: you'll find it hard to find his *éléments de la philosphie
de Newton
... you will find Candide,
and Letters from England... but the elements of Newton's
philosophy will be a holy grail... oddly enough, contrary
to common belief, Voltaire never alludes to an apple
falling on Newton's head, but the book is a joy,
given that it includes diagrams... a bit of an Alice moment
for me: what's the point of books without pictures?
i could give you a chapter-by-chapter schematic of
what's being included so you don't think i'm bullshitting you,
the first chapter is about God... i know, ha ha, Voltaire
the ardent atheists... the third chapter is about the
freedom of the deity and on the great principle of sufficient right;
hold on! i'm digressing again, this was a debate concerning
onomatopoeia! you're probably asking why i've started to
use runes again... imagine what lied more, the tongue or
the eyes... this is crazy geometrics! geometry precipitated
when human went wild encoding sounds, it needed
something rational and coherent to attach itself to, to find
a cure for this crazy phonetic encoding, Pythagoras
attacked (Δ, δ) - i'm sure of that... i mean, can you just imagine
two drunk vikings sitting there, ******* themselves
sound-spotting and dissecting their mouth? which shaped
what, and which was to be cut-off / trimmed after they
poured wax into their ears and started to lip-read?
i mean... how many ****** shapes came from all
the soul-cages being opened with the shape of the mouth
from O?
ᚺ - hail             ᛖ - horse (and i'd say camel, but no camels
so far north)       ᚱ - journey         ᛟ - heritage
      ᛚ - water               ᚷ - gift
                                 i mean, it's amazing how we managed
to cut of subsequent letters we ascribed to things
and create a distinct sounds... but can you the torturous
road toward this end? to have created ~20 distinctions
from nouns? no wonder Aristotle asked to debate
proper names... i'm more inclined to ask a debate about
proper sounds... but still... so many wild geometric shapes
from just one... O... or - (a shut mouth)...
no wonder mathematics emerged: you couldn't really build
a longboat using ᚠ - ᛞ, or a house, what mathematics emerged
was probably when people thus dispersed interacted
via the merchants' enterprises and saw a gold nugget
of applicability write in how so many different people interpreted
looking at the mouth talking...
but i'm but one man, and this is a mystery, for i wonder
how the mind worked in order to write mandarin and
also qin **** huang's wall - i accepted many people died
doing it, and that the Mongol invasion was inevitable,
and that Japan was spared by a tsunami...
but how they took snippets from O to write a phonetic
encoding like 政 (Zheng, which also ascribed the
tetragrammaton at work, with one atom being a surd).
SweetCindy Mar 2017
The thing is, all her heart knew how to do was love.
It thrived on it, fed on it, was addicted to it.
It explored all of its elusive definitions
Basked in the all-consuming existence of it in her surroundings
She'd see it in the way lovers looked at each other when it was true - she could spot that look anywhere.
She'd hear it in the laughter between best friends, "soulmates"
When a gift was given unexpectedly, or a flower picked
She felt love in the trees and flowers she observed,
In the way birds and other animals interacted with each other.
She knew exactly what love is, and what it was not -
She learned that the hard way, unfortunately.
But, she couldn't catch it, she was never, at the right place or at the right time.
So, she locked up her heart, stored it in a safe place where it could no longer be broken.
Angie Acuña Aug 2015
To the boy leaving to California,
I'm gonna miss you, but most of all,
I'll miss the eyebrows that you tried so hard to hide from me.
I saw them anyway.
You'll do the music scene of Idyllwild good.

To the girl who ******* me over,
I don't know why I kept you in my life for so long.
******* ♥.

To my Pastor,
I'm not supposed to ask you for forgiveness because you say that it's not your place to forgive.
I hope that you do.

To my sister,
Yes, I am leaving to San Antonio. No, you may not have my stuff. I'll see you at the concert.

To my Prom-Effect crush,
Sometimes I pull out our pictures, read our old conversations,
I look at the goofy drawings you gave me.
You gave me so much more.
Thank you.

To my dog,
You're dumb, but you're cute.
I'm going to miss cuddling with you at night.
I'm going to miss the comforting nuzzles you gave me when you saw me cry.

To the people I spent my time at Moonbean's with,
Who will I get my indie coffee with now?
What will I do if I can't see your calming faces everyday?

To the homeless man  on Jackson Road,
You were gone for a while.
I'm glad to see you're back.

To my other sister,
It's been more than a year and you're already so big.
I promise to be there for you in any way that I can.

To the mailman,
Yes, that is my parking spot. No, I will not move.

To the cute boy at church,
That's all you'll ever be. I see that now.

To my cousin Monica on my mother's side,
You're going through a lot right now.
I know you are.
Remember that you've been through this before.
Maybe it's not easier the second time around,
but at least it's familiar.

To my other cousins, Jessica and Gaby,
I expect great things from you both, each in your own way.

To my "father",
It's still been years since I last saw you.
It's still been years since you last called.

To the five people with a bracelet that reads "Bestie",
You are some of the most amazing and breathtaking people I've ever met.
You are the ones I am scared of losing.
I pray that I don't.

To the lady at the post office, Michelle,
We never really interacted much.
Thank you for that.

To my 12th grade biology teacher,
Santi, your work is a pain in the *** and I didn't learn a **** thing.
I already miss seeing you first thing in the morning.

To my 12th grade English teacher,
YOU ABSOLUTELY ******.
I CAN'T BELIEVE I WASTED AN ENTIRE YEAR IN YOUR CLASS.


To my better, whiter half,
You are still my soulmate,
You are still my person.
I will never forgive myself for being a horrible friend to you when you needed it the most.

To my brother,
For the love of Jesus, please don't ever change.
I'll see you soon.
Clean your room.

To my dad,
It's got a nice ring to it, doesn't it?

To my stray cat,
I honestly don't know how you've survived this long.

To the bookshelves in my closet,
I now you're already full and I haven't read 60% of the books there,
but where can I place these 7 new books?

To my orchestra teachers,
You taught me so much more than music.
I will make you all proud of me one day.

To the girl who went a little ****** this past year,
Have you found your peace?
How about a lie to tell yourself everyday?

To the Parliaments in my room,
I bought you the night I started crying myself to sleep because of him.
I have yet to stop crying.
I think I'll keep you for a while longer.

To my momma,
I won't let anything stop me.
You'll soon have a third diploma to frame.

To the kids who skipped school and smoked,
I changed the wording.
I am one of those kids.

To the University of Texas at San Antonio,
I'm allowing for you to take me from everything that I love.
I pray that you're worth it.

To the boy that I lo-...
It'll be a long time before I'm able to finish that line again.
I hope you're the same person when I do.
lol everything hurts
Mr Uncanny Oct 2018
Sometimes we hold on to things that just don't exist anymore
Friendships because of shared memories
Acquaintances because of networking potential
People in general who once were around, but no longer there

Is it because we want to keep our memories alive?
Keep the bonds and connections we have?
Why do we long for bonds?
Why do we hold on to every possibility that came our way?

Unfortunately in life people grow apart
We drift away for an array of reasons
Some because our commonality is no longer there
Others because of the notion when out of sight, your out of mind

Social media has given a false sense of friendship
Just because it says we are "Friends" , doesn't always ring true
When was the last time we had a meaningful conversation?
Could you remember a birthday without being notified?

Technology has brought us closer, but with consequence
We have lost that human touch
We hide behind the our cell phones, computers, and tablets
We forget how to interact with another human being face to face

This by no means negates the position influence of technology
People we would have never interacted with, because of distance
We just need to redesign the human element in those interactions

Friendship has become a loosely used word
That we forget its meaning
Although most would agree we define it differently
Just as opinions are subject to interpretation
Friendship, as well, is subject to interpretation

Friendship is about harmony and understanding
The ability to share without judgement
To relate to things, even if you cannot understand
Being there for each other verbally or face-to-face

Sadly if a "friend" cannot fit into your personal definition
Are they truly a friend?
Do you become so anxious to keep the friend flame alive?
When deep down you know it has already died

We must re-evaluate on what friendship means to us, to you
What friendship means to another person
Understand that when one friendship dies
Another can rise within its flames
Just under new definition

Bridges burn all the time
Just like in the journey of life
The road is always under construction
New bridges can always be formed and connected
Orchid Feb 2018
We are all drops in the ocean,
We create ripples in the water,
Waves to the shore,
And tsunamis to the town.
We don't hold anything close to us,
But the people that we love.
And as it seems where we stand now
We only affect ourselves,
But if we look a bit closer,
We're setting fire to the rain.
Our tiny moves and actions
Aren't affecting only our souls alone,
But the God in heaven as well.
And that just simply isn't all.
For we are also slightly affecting
The ones that are close to us,
The ones we claim to love.
And so if we want to see
The affect we have today,
Look at each individual
That you have interacted with,
And don't just simply look at
Your selfish simple heart.
First poem on this site.
From the top of the steep sloping green hills
they sat relaxed on horseback to marvel
in awe at the natural beauty of unspoilt land
uncorrupted by the destruction of progress
taking away the virginity of the landscape
where creatures safely interacted unharmed
by callous hands in pursuit of immoral gain
the countryside balance they did not retain!

With no tall grotesque buildings to sully the view
nor chimneys from factories that regularly
spewed more deadly toxins to choke our lungs
then the air above clear from human impregnation
from more suspected elements of depopulation
weather harsh but the seasons were well defined
there before pollution and technology encased
our lives and the nightmare future to face!

#TheFoureyedPoet.
It is said once the air and landscape was unpolluted by mans hand!#TheFoureyedPoet.
Lacey Good May 2016
Nothing you said makes me happier
Not “I love you”
Not “I miss you”
Not the sweet words,
The secret language
You used with only
The girls filled with hate
Now I think, to this day
That nothing you say
Could ever make me happier

Nothing you said makes me happier
Not “Come over”
Not “Come closer”
Not the proofread lines,
Carefully exacted
For the time you just left
Me to wander, distracted
Alone in a crowd
We no longer interacted
That didn't make me happier

Nothing you said makes me happier
Not “We need a break”
Not “I'm moving away”
The looks that you gave
Or the way you berate,
Not even a whisper
Of lie and debate
Will make me happier
Than when you told me
“I'll be dead by forty.”
Dark Smile Jun 2014
Hey uhm so therr's this guy who I knew in primary school (sort of like middle school for those of you who live in the US). Now I'm in secondary school (high school) and I follow him to instagram and Twitter and stuff and recently he's been talking about need someone to talk to about life and I really want to help him but I haven't talked to him or interacted with him in YEARS. So, I don't exactly know how to approach this. Sorry if you felt that this was a waste of time. I couldn't ask my friends or family because I know they wouldn't understand and they would jump to the comclusion that I want to get into a reltionship with him when I just want to reach out as a friend. So erm please advise( if you can) and Thanks!!! :))
Oh GodI just realised how trivial this sounds but I'm in a girls school so I'm a little awkward with the opposite gender and I'm not really comfortable with talking to people much because I've always been stuffing everything within (which is probably why they are all bursting out now) and this is also why I chose to be anonymous here because it gives ne a sense of security, I guess.
AW Dec 2020
If the quantum is foaming
Roaming space for a chance to manifest
Lest it neglect to collapse in on itself
Then who am I

To negate the hypothesis
That life is ineffable
Interfering with the pattern
That would have else entangled me
Instead,
I find myself a wave function
Undetermined until interacted with
Insignificant until observed

Who am I to challenge
That everything is energy
Rising through the ranks of probability
A wavelength contracting  
An equation waiting to materialize

Who am I to doubt
That uncertainty is anything less
Than a superposition  
A potential to fill
The vacuum to the brim
With vibrations that extend far beyond the evidence
Fluctuations fulfilling a destiny  
Of singularity
A momentum to make matter matter
The Science Sessions
amme Mar 2023
Everything was very lucid, everything but the beginning.

Like the scene from Inception where she cannot remember how they got there I too had that same feeling.
Everything seemed normal at first but I quickly realised that the people around us did not notice us at all.
They did not even see us, like we were invisible.
My vision was seemingly blurry when I looked at the world and people outside the circle we formed standing together in a crowded park in the middle of the day, yet perfectly fine when I looked at my own body or two of the six other persons standing in the circle.
I picture it today like different resolutions.
Infact just like in the movie, I was actually dreaming but I did not know it at that time and there was no Di Caprio to explain it to me.

All I knew was that I was being chosen for something.
Something I have being longing for my whole life of confusion and wondering why, how and who.
I had no idea what that something was but I knew that I along with these people standing with me was finally chosen for something unimagineably great.
That intese feeling of relief that came with it was the most powerful feeling I had experienced to this day, almost like I knew that I would finally get to know the answers to the secrets and mysteries we all have been trying to figure out as humans
and after this journey all the suffering would stop and everything would be over.
I knew that the rest of the people felt a similar way even though, at that time, we had yet not spoken to eachother. I knew it simply by the way they reacted. Just like myself we were all surprised, overwhelmed and at the same time joyful.

I remember having a strong feeling of wanting / being chosen as a kid. Chosen like in Harry Potter being a the boy who lived, Peter Parker becomming spider man or Clark Kent realising he is superman, you get the point..

Apparantly a lot of humans have the same feeling and now I was living that dream.

After a few seconds of taking it all in I realised that only two of the six other people were visible to me. I knew there were six other beings next to me but only two was visible.
One was a male with dark blonde hair and trimmed ****** hair, looked like a regular swedish person in my age but nobody I recognized from my town. Then there was a brunette female also in her 20s.
And then there were four other beings who I had no vision of but I could somehow know they are right there and is a living being just like us but somehow way different.
I could "feel" or know that they were just as suprised as we were and had as much knowledge about the whole situation as we did.
I also knew that they could clearly see and hear us. An ability we did not possess as  humanbeings.

Some people would probably use the words "alien abduction" trying to describe the experience (dream) I had but I use the word "chosen" for the reasons I stated above.
Also at this point I had thoughts running through my head that these non visible beings was extraterestials but as I said these beings was going through the same thing we were, driven by a force much greater that both of us.

A "WOW" was the first thing that came out from the swede as we all aknowledged that reaction and let out a laugh, flabbergasted of what was happening. And so far we are only 1 minute into the whole thing and we are still in this circle in the middle of a crowded park.
Next thing we all got individually surrounded by this bright white light that would transport us to the next stage of the journey. Just like you would see in a 90s music video the light just appeared around us until we were covered in it and dissapeared from the park and appeared ... somewhere else.

At this place it was only me and the two other persons I could see, the swedish male and the female brunette. The other beings was at a similar place designed for their kind. I knew this because I would meet them again after this stage and find out.
I cannot describe this place but I'll try my best explaining what happened there.

The three of us would go through a dream like state one by one in our own personal dream, designed by the devine to be a test. In this test you would enter a dream where you play yourself from a memory from the past. It is hard to explain but think of it like the jumanji movie where they load into the game and become new characters with missions.
We were loaded into a dream where we play ourself and had our own missions within that dream to beat as a test to go to the next stage of the journey.

My test was up first.

I quickly loaded into this dream where I was myself as a kid in a very distant age of humatity. Everything was sand and stone and the only humans alive was the people in my tiny village in the middle of the desert. The whole vibe was egypt and sand dunes.
Even though I was playing myself in the dream I could also observe as a third person outside the dream, like a spectator and the others was watching my dream play out aswell but we could not affect anything in my dream, or "test" if you may, while just observing from outside the box.
I needed to play myself as a kid in this sand dune world and the others could actually load into my dream as themselfs to help me with whatever my missions was.

As you know with dreams there is too much unexplainable stuff going on but overall my dream test was a huge complicated maze I had to run through. In the end it led me to running up a stone staircase which spiraled around a square block of stone.
When I got to the top it was a simple stone building, a house made for worship where all the humans gathered at dawn to pray. Right outside the entrance to the house was a big block of stone, same sand dune colour. This stone was very important and I somehow knew it but I did not know why. I gave it a pat like a kid would do and my test was finished.
I did not have a certain feeling of knowing exactly what was going on or if I completed my test or whatever I was just going along in the journey for now.

Next up was the other male. His dream test was this anoying, mind boggling puzzle that took forever to figure out. We managed to do it anyway and last up was the female.
Her test was filled with agony, misery, anxiety, extreme sadness and anger. It was no dream I would ever want to go through again but we had to help eachother out to complete the tests together.
It was very important that we went through it as a split unit because if one failed we would all do.

After a traumatic experience with the females dream test we finally broke free and again got transported to another place.

This time we were traveling in the vast darkness of space. No spaceship, no suits just our bodys almost being dragged through space.
We were not feeling any force dragging us or felt like we were in motion but we could tell we were travelling because there was a single point in our vision that got bigger as we were seemingly getting closer to it.

Here is where I meet the the remaining "chosen beings" again, they were travelling with us but did not seem as fazed by it as we humans were. Atleast that was my understanding by "feeling" their reactions or "aura" or whatever.

We were travelling for around two minutes and I remember feeling uncomfortable as the experience flying through space was terrifying and not at all what I had hoped it would be.
I actually was so scared I almost started to panic as these two minutes felt like forever, until I saw that point we were travelling to getting significally bigger by the millisecond.
Faster than I could tell we were there, our point of destination for this stage. It was a big big cube made of unknown material just floating in space. The cube was transparent so we only saw a hollow plasma like cube and nothing else.
The cube had rounded edges and for size comparison it was pretty much a 10x10 Meter cube from the outside.

Once we floated inside this cube we could see that it was not what it seemed from the outside.

First of all, every single one of us got a mutual feeling of being home, this cube was a safe haven for us. We were protected in this cube and could feel secure.
There was so much space inside this thing like you wont believe, it was not really affected by time like we are here on earth. If we wanted to go to a private room we would immidietly be there, there was no time spent walking to that room.
If we wanted to relax on a couch we would already be in the same couch relaxing.
It made no sense but there was no questions needed to ask for us. We just intuitively knew how to use this cube for whatever our needs were.

One funny thing I remember was a lady sitting inside the cube at a office desk placed at the top left corner of the cube. As I first entered the cube, to me, she was sitting upside down at her desk with a full suit on and even a scarf looking like a calssy office worker.
She gave all of us a glance and a little smile before focusing on her typing again. Like she was a regular at this cube place and there was no big deal at all that seven beings, humans and ... non humans would visit this cube.

She was also human, well as far as I could tell she was fully human, we never communicated, just like we never spoke to any other beings at this place.
This journey was not filled with much communication as we people have here on earth. We all just knew what the other was thinking based on pure intuition. The cube was filled with beings but as we seven was on our own special journey we did not interact with anyone else and nobody else interacted with us.

We got to a room in this cube where we walked up to an altar looking thing. On this altar was a huge holographic monitor. The monitor (that was really just light) was showing a 3D model of the earth. It was a white light background and the earth was showing as black lines like you would draw the earth from space on a piece of blank white paper with a regular black ink pencil.
It was a problem though, everything was static, no motion, no life. We all were just standing huddled up watching this holographic monitor not knowing what to do or think as we did not understand anything.
This is when I stepped up to this altar holding the holographic monitor and again by pure intuition I placed my hand above the emitting lights and somehow grabbed one end of the "monitor" and flipped it to the other side like you would flip a page in a book.
Now we saw the same 3D picture of earth but it was a live feed and not static anymore. The earth was in motion and you could see the green colours of the land the blue waters the white clouds and everything else so beautifully. There was a live statistic upgrade on EVERYTHING you needed to know about the earths "health" if you may.
Like the temperture, oxygen levels, fertility in the soil, density of the mountains and everything else you can think of.
It was amazing to see and every single one of us felt the same way. We also all understood that the previous static earth we saw was one of many planets like earth used to host us humanbeings until the end of our test that was once active and in motion but is not anymore.

After this experience in the altar room with the holographic book monitor thing we all ended up back in the circle in the park we began at. Everyone knew our tests was over and we were about to join the devine, whatever that means.
We stood for a minute processing the whole journey we went through waiting for the next step.

At that moment there was very much information getting downloaded to my system.
I got to know that me and the two other humans represent the three dimensions we live and experience.
Each of us is representing a single string, a string that is the smallest possible form of matter that vibrates to to a beat. Our heartbeat.
We are one dimensional beings but together we live in a three dimensional world and our strings will together form the trefoil knot.

The other four beings is representing the fourth to seventh dimensions. Even though all dimensions is weaved into eachother, we do not possess the ability to see above our own dimensions but beings living in higher dimensions can see the beings below and actually live amongst them.
This explaied why I cannot see the other beings of course.

They still have a string just like we humans do but they are made up of different type of matter, different type of energy and live in a different type of frequency. This means that they had to tie their knot sepereatly from us humans, meaning they had different type of tests and live by a completly different type of rules we human beings do.

Together we had two knots symbolizing a total of seven dimensions of creation, A starmap for us to enter infinity and beyond.

The lights swiftly swooped in and surrounded us, nothing else mattered, we were ready to go.
One by one everyone got beamed up, the non humans was the first to go.
As one was beaming up after the other we looked at eachother with great humbleness and pride. The female was the last to go before it my was my turn but as she got beamed up it came to my knowledge that I was not chosen to get beamed up this time and my faith was to live the rest of my life here on earth like the person I was before all this.

I could only catch a glance of the females face before she got covered by the beam and I will never forget the look she gave me. A look that knows the great pain I was feeling and the responsibility I have to carry out among the people I live with now that I know what I know.
I think my heart stopped for a second as I felt so betrayed, left out, alone..

The seven strings was now only one, the other six existed only as a memory.

This is where everyone in the park could see me again, and I was standing there alone in the middle of spring with a leather jacket on that I used to wear in my 20s. It was a sunny yet windy and chilly day.
I knew that nobody would understand me or even believe me If i told them what happened. I had to struggle with the feeling of living until I die of "natural" causes and nobody would ever understand me.
It was depressing to say the least. I began to walk home through the park as a car stopped by me. It was my friends from real life, they yelled at me to jump in and asked what I was doing alone in the park.

I struggled to keep my tears in as I just shrugged and sat down in the backseat, listening to their endless, pointless normal life conversations as my thoughts wandered away to the journey I just experienced.

This is when I wake up and realise that all this was a dream and I took about 2 hours laying in my bed reflecting on what I dreamed.

To this day, years after the dream, I still go though the journey every single day, as a memory. I do not know what It means or necesarrily still try to even find meaning in it but it lives in my mind rent free.
I just wanted to write it down on paper and share it and maybe It will help me realeve some of the feelings I still experience because of this dream.

Thank you for reading.
Anna-Marie Rose Mar 2017
You have got my heart stuck in a moment of bliss,
If my voice doesn't speak
My thoughts they will leak on to bleached paper.
Behind the covers of this spiral notebook lays my hidden secrets and treasures ..
Chained to their pages
These tears are my imprints in my life
Theses very heartstrings are the fibers that keep my soul interacted!

— The End —