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Trupoetry May 2015
You're probably reading this from the same place I'm writing it
behind a desk
outside the box
trapped in a corporation
free in my thoughts

You're probably reading this for the same reason I'm writing it
because words matter
because it doesn't matter
the way everything matters

You're probably sick of reading
probably
yet we are hardly anything more than what can be proven
we're probably
the invention before probability

The loving  likelihoods of life
like crawling before walking
like falling when learning to walk
like walking into runs

The statistics of confusion
divided for the mystical equation
of adding all things make believe
subtracting all things real
and solving you for yourself
Simon Apr 2021
Once a bridge was nothing more than an abstract tool for reasoning. But one day, this very abstract tool for reasoning became the literal direct opposing opposite to this very operation.
(The operation that was meant to be disposed of from the very get-go!)
But something stopped that from becoming a seamless reality...
After all, seamless is nothing more than predictable tension in the right places that don't normally fit into the very crowd of normalities itself.
But the universe is connected by such truths that don't normally (either), point its own self in the right direction full of directionless odds that don't poke and **** your very potential progression forward...if it wasn't truly for the very bridge that again, (as an abstract took for reasoning), points these very directionless odds into a newer meaning than ever before. Hence, an abstract tool (obviously) when dealing with such tension involving the universal boundaries and conditions and features and traits and meanings and properties that surround itself among many other things in its general surroundings that bear itself too much for an actual correct dose of conquest to deal with all at one single time.
Basically, because if that was the actual case (all at one single time...) Then it'd be a non-localized protocol that would pave the way for ALL such manufacturing projects in one single action!
(And non-localized making such advances in the very field of study, for the very meaning that happens all at once, not within the same boundaries from one another, length and size wise.)
Seeing as how big the universe really is, with still too this very date is filled with such EXTREME (unknown sizes and expectations of it, regardless of its own such limits regulated by the very anticipated push for discovery itself). There wouldn't even be a certain timeframe for things to have its own say (in for how ever long they want to take). Instead, you have something happening all at one time, where everything is truly about one thing, and one thing, ONLY...
Nothing is about progression (or even the very process of actually getting it done) when it's all about the bridge that reasons out the very different areas and points of many likelihoods that don't limit its own variety to its own protocols...when their own hunger is trying to go about achieving one's own aim, or goal of precipitation...
When it's entirely longer than the standing idea...that nothing is without flawless results, if and ONLY if...you make it or break its very abstract tool for reasoning itself!
If and only if you do, then you’re looking at yourself as nothing more than the very truthful meaning for "treason."
Once you commit treason... You’re also breaking the connection with the bridge who's meant to connect everything in one single action for conquest. (And not the misguided mindset for simply achieving a consequence full of such disorder.)
If that were the actual case, then everything isn't as connected as one would previously think.
Especially when your very abstract tool for reasoning is the very reasoning for shame in the face of such irrational thinking.
Hence, when different mixtures of fate and probability confront the very limitations (upon their own such instances full to brim of primal instances and events...)
That's when the bridge that is meant to connect an entire universe together.
Becomes the greatest story ever told about a bridge who also...became the abstract tool for reasoning.
A bridge is a tool for building the different gaps in both space and time. However, that doesn't take the very such elongated gaps into account, when dealing with the rough exteriors of just how long they really are...until you limit yourself to the very surroundings of how a real universal bridge connects an entire universe together before your very eyes could limit itself too such incomprehensible facts.
Shea Vogt Mar 2012
Light becomes insignificant when snow makes it easy to see
At night everything encased in a seal of white
It all has its description within covered or uncovered
The snow does this, enveloping and erasing further inquiry
Because we know only what has color and what is white
Defined merely by a frozen particle of water floating down
Forming a blanket of ultimate understanding for you and me.

I want my life to be like that.

I think God's taunting me with snow and my desire for simplicity, a desire for the ease of proper definition
My life has meaning, but not enough, only enough to tease
And there are a multitude of different shades of every color
Either metaphorically or literally, it seems excessive at times
Feelings run so deep they bear the risk of exhaustion via
The repetition of. The repetition of. The repetition of
Feeling the same exact way so many different times
That the emotion becomes a memory of what it used to be
And we try our best to remember how we felt years ago
When the emotion was a film of snow untouched
Resting gently upon a world we've come to understand
Bringing with it a new perspective on what we used to
Find so unbelievably beautiful we swore we had no words.

I wish my life was capable of either being or not being
I'd like just once to be covered with snow or uncovered
I'm growing weary of taking off all of my clothes to
Find different hues distort the preconceptions I had
Of my body when I thought I knew my image before
But I don't know, and tonight my world's washed white
And the only images I find in my head are ones helping
To define a world I had no grasp on in the first place.

So, I step softly but still the snow packs hard into my shoes
As I wander forward finding wonder in the same old things
I look back to see the steps leading me to where I stand
And I wonder if I stood here all night and didn't move,
The snow erasing all evidence of my journey to the middle
Of this field where I'm the tallest object for miles in a scene
Where my brown coat stands starkly against the ever shifting
Colors of the horizon and gentle zephyrs stir my hair. I wonder
If I could convince myself that I was the only thing that exists
When there's no more path leading to where I stand and
I can choose to no longer step forward to leave a trace
That maybe I can just stop moving and the world
Would dissipate and I would melt slowly into
The colorless world and no longer be the
Only object that ruins the scene of
What could possibly have been
A perfectly covered world
Without me in it.

Within the parameters of two likelihoods, I may be…
Covered and quickly disappearing under ultimate understanding
Uncovered and slowly crafting a memory you'll forget one day.
I suppose I'm glad for the red morning sun that melts it all away.
Pat Apr 2018
Past regrets lost in an emulsion of sorrows
Paralyzed to the point of leaving yourself behind because of these dastard individuals who you call stress, anxiety and depression
However theres a fraction of an enigma that still exists within me
The fans of reality blows and steers possibilities and likelihoods towards my life
Such a thing as nepenthe doses seem relevant and present in the world?
Contrary to my uncertainty, society could believe it does in various shapes or forms
Although, our constant search for content proves a sort of doubt
Trapping beautiful leaves with different colors in a jar never to be experienced but hopefully found by a wanderer who would demonstrate what a prize they were in the first place
Negligence ultimately derived from perpetual speculation
Build, construct your house of memories as vivid and as sorrowful as they come
They are yours!
An identity, defining who you are without all the torment
Escape the wrath of your past regrets, mistakes and insecurities
You can, if you allow yourself to

— The End —