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mannley collins Jan 2016
Lies are lies
they deny you the truth.
Truth is truth
it denies you the lie.
when examined closely both are exactly the same.
They are interchangeable.
People that tell the "truth" to you are denying you lies.
How boring and dangerous and malevolent are people full of truth.
Choose your religious truth---
Christian truth.
Islamic truth.
Judaic truth.
Vedic Hindoo truth.
Buddist truth.
Capitalist truth.
Socialist truth.
Free market truth.
Managed market truth.
Monarchist truth.
Democratic truth.
Militarist truth.
Liberal truth.
Fascist truth.

People that tell lies to you are denying you truthfulness.
How boring and dangerous and malevolent are people full of lies.
Choose your lies.
Christian lies.
Islamic lies.
Judaic lies.
Vedic Hindoo lies.
Buddist lies.
Capitalist lies.
Socialist lies.
Free market lies.
Managed market lies.
Monarchist lies.
Democratic lies.
Militarist lies.
Liberal lies.
Fascist lies.
Truthfulness is neither truth nor lies.
It exists on its own.
Truthfulness is free of the Duality of Truth and Lies..
The individual Isness exists in the state of Separate and Merged with the Isness of the Universe.
Permanent Mindlessness is unconditional love--just ask any Dog or Cat.
The Mind separates us from the Isness of the Universe.
The Mind creates Duality which is governed by Conditional Love.
The individual Isness creates Unconditional Love(Consciousness) which is outside Duality.
Mind cannot create Unconditional Love.
The individual Isness cannot create Conditional Love.
If you have Mind/Conditioned Identity in your head you cannot love Unconditionally.
If you do not have Mind/Conditioned Identity then you can only love Unconditionally.
If you have Mind and Conditioned Identity  you cannot be Merged with the Isness of the Universe.
If you are Mindless and Conditioned Identityless you are merged with the Isness of the Universe.
Conditional Love says I love you on Condition I can hate you.
Unconditional Love says I will never stop loving you but I may dissapprove of your actions but I will never hate you because I cannot hate..
Conditional Love is selective--it only applies to Family and Friends and fellow GroupMind members.
Unconditional Love is not selective--it applies to every living being--human or otherwise.
Unconditional Love does not see people as Friends and Enemies.
Unconditional Love sees people as individual Isness incarnated in bodies.
Humans are deceived by the Mind into believing that the Conditioned Identity is their true Identity and deceived by the Mind into believing that they should leave the running of their brains and therefore their lives to the Mind.
The individual Isness is a small but equal individual independent,
nameless,formless,genderless,autonomous portion of the Isness of the Universe that people controlled by Mind are taught to call a Soul.
The Soul is just another Mind created Conditioned Identity.
The Atman is just another Mind created Conditioned Identity.
The individual  Isness is formed from a small but equal portion of the essence of the Isness of the Universe and incarnated in a Human Body of either Gender-_male or female of any skin colour.



www.beyondenlightenment.co.uk
Butch Decatoria Sep 2018
Hell is like waiting in a long line for the zoo
So this must be limbo...

Time stretches / skeleton skin skeins
The tock the tick / the clock
Sketches
Schizophrenic melancholia
Mockingly sickening
Traffic of panic / deafening
Time stales / takes Forever
A long while - in limbo
Zombie shock / mind akimbo

And loneliness is a box
This corpse sits in
As existence / outside frightful / persisting
***** and spritz-ing
Our vibrant thangs
Songs shouts to gang sign slangs
Even when the lyrics
Go deep
Six feet sorrow
Hip hopping to defeat

But we gots to love it
The life we have
The Flava and the savor this last dance .
Makes me wanna Dougie
Percolating / jump / criss cross
Vanilla bean / jump jump

But what is a song to a diminished bird
No cage more cruel than the loss of worth
Hearts depart from its soul
Jester / fools / without cheer
No cartwheels glee or clue
Happy days adieu
High times zero new
Birds to the sky / fist pump / guns
This is for the Razza
End what's done begun

Waiting to get thru
Theme parks colorfully masking
Reality's streets and truth
Inmates as we are forced to wait
Hate is quicker to arrive
Behind bars hollows Time
Takes our forever
Even waking up
Still in limbo / thirsty without a cup
Same ole system
Who's business makes slaves
Kept blind and silently afraid
Kept
In a state / of mindlessness
Now worse than before

Schitzo screaming schisms
Crazy IS the war
Fear wreaks havoc
Boom boom back to a room
In your head goes the bomb
Shrapnel wounded / half none...

Are we there yet?
Just farts in the wind
Waiting is hell / how does life begin?
Just passing by / passed away / a passerby
Yelling and complaining
Let me in ? Get me out ?
Ghost to life's boo hoo / poor you
What happens to dreams wasted
In the zoo
Eyes turned frozen
Cold uncaring
Dying and lying / lifeless stories to share
As beauty within is in despair
As beasts overcrowd the fair
Flotsam in limbo float
Alone in its killer cold
Time still passing / parole / on hold
Much hope

Where are we
If there is nothing
No penny for fairy tale wells

Wishes are dead in fountains
Rich and heavy to the bottom
With tossed currencies. Fell.
How will a coin speak
Who will ever know
If we do not paint out loud
The masterpiece of the dream?

Tell me dreamer what time do you have
Still waiting?

In this zoo...

When it always was and is
And always will be

Up to you.
Revised retitled
Meenakshi Iyer Nov 2012
The night has been commissioned
to awaken in me
the ubiquitous longing for your touch.
The mindlessness consumes me
when I wander from dream to dream,
fantasizing the ever after
that’ll mysteriously become present
once you touch.

The exuberant charm in every swipe
of the breeze broadens a smile,
reminding me of the endless passion
for good humor and intense delight
that you decree in large measures
whilst I quail in love.    

It is diabolical, this game you play
of keeping in shadows
while I wither,
in the unremitting glare of the sun
that keeps me on the banks of the dark lake
leaving me with only
a few drops to wet my hand.

I will implore to have an end
to this ceaseless battle of restraint and abandon,
But am only left with a tremulous belief,
it is all not false what I see,
in the glorious mist that night casts,
I do not only sleep.
mannley collins Jul 2014
I am individual Isness incarnated in this body which is the latest of the many bodies of either female or male of all five skin colours and all ****** orientation that I have inhabited throughout all time.

Each individual Isness is a small but equal,individual,independent, nameless,formless,genderless,non physical,unconditionally loving entity formed from the Isness of the Universe and incarnated in a human body lifetime after lifetime.

The individual Isness is not Atman or Soul or Spirit--these are mind created identities and will only take you as far as groupmind allows.
As Janice sang"freedoms just another word for nothing left to lose".

I am the individual Isness.
I am that! --I am!.

The Isness of the Universe is responsible for the manifestation,from its own nature,of the entire universe and all in it,physical or metaphysical, including so-called "gods" and "goddesses".
Each body alive contains an individual Isness here for the purpose of realising its true nature as an individual Isness--ruled in its actions by Karma and evolution.
Only the individuals efforts at self realisation count here on Earth.
No one gets a free pass!
Mind and Conditioned Identity must be dissolved totally and permanently consciously in order to become Isness realised.
I am an individual Isness.
I am that! --I am!.
I am the only permanently mindless/conditioned identityless male person  in existence--by my conscious choice and effort.
My partner is the only mindless/conditioned identityless  female person  in existence by her choice and conscious effort.
ALL others claiming to be Yogis or Yogins are prisoners of mind created dualistic delusions and can speak only truth but cannot speak truthfully.
Yogi is not a title or rank or buisness status but merely an acknowledgement of the state of permanent Mindlessness and Conditioned Identitylessness that any person,equally female or male,can attain through their own conscious efforts.
We are individual Isness united.
We are that!-- we are!.
There is no luck or short cuts involved.
No one can be born in this state either.
Any person that says they can "grace" you is a liar and a criminal.
There is no grace option as all religions would have you believe with their lies.
It is NOT possible to buy your way in either.
We are not and would never ever want be "enlightened".
We are not nor would ever be Bhuddas.
We are not and would not ever be  Avatars.
Very low states of existence these all are.

We are not and would not ever be celibate.
Love a good ****,
We are that!-- We are!.
We celebrate life only and do not celebrate death as religions do with their phoney "heavens and hells"--and their vain bloodthirsty "gods"..
For us and our future there is NO heaven or hell--- just endless existence elsewhere to this planet--for this planet is truly the hell of existence and made that way by the groupminds of petty religions and politics with their petty violent  followers.
Only a personal conscious effort to dissolve mind/conditioned identity can lead to the state of Separate and Merged
or Isness realised.
Isness realisation is NOT a group activity.
The path of Yoga we follow is called the
Yoga of Dissolution of Mind and Conditioned Identity.
I am that!--I am!.
I am incarnated in a male body in this lifetime.
Grene,my partner,is incarnated in a female body in this lifetime.
We have been incarnated in both male and female bodies many times.
We carried the accumulation of Karma,both good and bad, with us through these past  lives--as do all alive...
Karma is the undeniable and unquestionable moral energy stockpile earned by every action every one commits,both good and bad,and is a reflection of their acquired morality and determines the next incarnation type that they have..
Karma,both "good" and bad" ties each Isness to the ever revolving Wheel  of Birth Life Death and rebirth--from which the only escape is through Isness-realisation.
No "god" or "prophet" or "holy man or woman"can make it happen for you--only concentrated personal effort.
Before Isness realisation can happen ALL Karma ,good or bad,must be dissolved completely.
Enlightenment or gnosis or being a Bhudda are nothing but worthless mind generated states that have seduced and betrayed humanity endlessly resulting in a planet at war with itself and heading for all out nuclear war rapidly..
for instance---
Buddhism,the so-called philosophy of peace with its monarchs and differing interpretations according to nation states--has utterly failed after 2500 years to bring peace to the world--buddhist terrorists killing in S China or Sri Lanka anyone?..
Islam-Christianity--Vedism--Hinduism--Judaism and all their various subgroups have only brought wars and division, with their ensuing trail of death and destruction, throughout the millennia--drenching the planet in the blood of innocents in the names of  their "gods" and "holy" monarchs and nations.
I am 75 years so far in this body but I have no age--only the body has age.
I followed the true inner path of Yoga assiduously through many lifetimes.
I am not a physical contortionist--a "hatha Yogi"--a contradiction in terms if there ever was one..
To be a follower of any "religion" that boasts a "god"or "goddess" or saving philosophy" is to be mired in bad Karma--as all "religions" are immoral and can only bring war/death and destruction in their wake
then ones action in supporting can only be bad Karma.
No religious follower of either *** has ever gone beyond  ignorance and self deception.
My partner and I are united in the ultimate state of existential beingness
that is called Separate and Merged.
As neither of us have a mind we are able to communicate closer than mere words and voices.
We share mutual ******.
We "live inside" each body--separated by flesh ---merged by mindlessness.
We are two id-entities playing the game of life as one.
We are Separate and Merged with the Isness of the Universe.
We are that!--we are!.

www.thefournobletruthsrevised.co.uk
Cíara McNamara Dec 2014
When left alone
Late at night
The voices of my mind
Being my only
Lonely plight –

I oft wonder
Do I love you?
Is it a feeling
Imbedded deep within
My soul?

Or a lust?
To be your bed maiden
Your late night
Lure?

Is there a “we”?
A heart spoken
Us?

Or is all this
Just a “madness
Coated in my lust?
Mateuš Conrad Nov 2018
.i honestly don't know who Spengler is... perhaps just a zenith for a man of his times, who, needs to be carried by someone like Heidegger, into a notable mention in the 21st century reader...

point being... man is not an illustrious
biological creature...
             yet how Heidegger puts it...
this ignorant proclamation of
the abandonment of beings by being
...
which, if i remember correctly,
    instances of the intimidation of
"facts"...
      now... i understand facts as those
pointers with a numerical back-up...
a fact isn't a fact if it is merely worded...
that's an opinion...
  a fact looks something like this...
      the area of a circle = πr²
to me... that's a fact...
          for a fact to be a fact
there has to be a numerical addition
to said fact... what is a big bang theory,
or the Darwinism of "history"?
approximations...
         even in face of π... being seemingly
endless...
   well... the infinitesimal division of
the square...
  in short... π = o / ω
               π equals the omicron divided
by the motion of omicron
in the form of ω... rolling... spinning...
in an orbit...
a fact is a fact, to me,
when the "fact" isn't merely worded...
Darwinism doesn't have a definite
numerical proposal for its wording...
as neither does the big bang theory...
after all... we are biologically flawed
animals...
          we're not pristine biological
artifacts... for ****'s sake...
we get a toothache and we turn ballistic!
how is the biology of Darwinism
actually translated via
humanism and philosophy?
                    it's translated as
the zoology of Darwinism...
               yes, we are zoologically on
top...
  but biologically? don't think so...
we are inclined to think about
(if any) history interference with creating
the present borrowing from Darwin,
precisely because we are the highest
zoological outcome...
we're the ones who can cage animals...
animals can't cage other animals...
we're not the highest biological
specimen...
   but we are the highest zoological
specimen...
                       if we were the highest
biological example...
we... say... wouldn't be susceptible
to... viruses...
  our complex brains could avert infections...
i don't know how... telepathically?!
we're such a grand zoological specimen
in that we can interest ourselves
in borrowing traits and characteristics
  from the specimens we isolate...
but to my "knowledge"...
     bad ******* move...
                  i still don't understand
the mindlessness of accepting both the big bang
theory, and the theory of evolution
as facts...
                       concrete facts...
this scientifically secular dogma
                       with a rigidity that defends
itself with ridicule... oh no... not the religious...
humanism...
       it's not going after religion...
humanism is at stake,
esp. the bridge between humanism and
science... philosophy...
so we evolved to do x, y, z...
  just as the gorilla evolved to do x, y, z...
i find that we're biologically
intimidated by an animal...
the fact that an animal requires
so little, and so little has changed...
to perpetuate its existence...
while we have been forced into an endless
spiral of over-complicating things...
we're not fallen in the classical respect
of what that Genesis metaphor implies...
you chose, the harder route...
doesn't anyone think that...
hell... one monkey in the tribe
gets eaten by a snake...
these days it's a dozen peeps get shot
by a PTSD crazed ape-**** ex-marine...
what's the difference?
   but having a body like a gorilla,
and having the gorilla strength,
from what? a ******* vegan diet?
       how much... whatever the body-builders
take does it take... to have the equivalent
of a fifth of a gorilla's strength?!
see... an over-complication spiral...
and how do animals resolve their
social problems and their fears of death?
on mute.
                  no chit-chat... instinctively...
it would appear that silence can convey
more truths than the logos of man's
blah blah blah...
          we didn't evolve biologically...
but sure as **** we evolved zoologically.
trick question...
  in this... glorious labyrinth of thought...
would you rather be killed
by a tiger... mercifully...
or by a jeffrey dahmer... mercilessly?
              i'd pick the ******* tiger!
evidently psychology emerged after
people inverted their zoological
"evolution" on themselves,
     having, somehow exhausted
their first curiosities with the originally
caged animals.
  we didn't evolve biologically...
what has thinking to do with all
the biological advantage of the current animals?
like bears... who don't have to put up
with the blues of winter, escaping
it to hibernate?!

p.s. and this whole feral animal living
in constant stress of finding food?
yeah... pandas, sloths and koalas
look... really stressed...
and whatever happened to the carnivorous
thrill of the chase?
at least these specimens don't
need to deal with the *******
of having it inverted into a ***-honing
metaphor;
   i suppose a filled stomach
feels much more gratifying than
emptying a ******* sack.
Sakii Apr 2015
Maybe you’re just terrified that the distance will take over the already empty spaces between your words. Then again, how close are they now? Should’ve never said them in the first place. You kept infixing the wrong meanings into the almost right words and that’s how you ended up here, talking to yourself. Do they mean the same to her as they do to you? How would I know? More like “what would they mean if they didn’t mean anything to you?” Whatever that is, is exactly what they would mean to her. I hate how you always make sense to me yet I’m the one who’s called crazy when I tell people the same stuff that you tell me. Wait, are you crazy? We’ve had that conversation already. Maybe it’s because you don’t say it the way I do. Or they don’t hear it the way YOU do. Remember how you “INFIXX” the wrong meanings into the almost right words? Why would you “INFIXX” my infix? I like that word. No, it’s not a made up word. And I agree. But language is overrated. Everything we’ve ever read is just a different combination of the same twenty-six letters. Wait, why do you always do this? We were talking about her. Let’s talk about her. I like talking about her. Why are you even writing this down? I’m about to post it on the internet. Hellopoetry? This is not even a poem. You could’ve paragraphised it at least. Is that a made up word? ...yes.
Her at the edge of mindlessness
Yet he is the one who keeps me sane.
Curtains, veils of virtual vice

So, gaze through the ****** intermix
of positional latency,
nano-notions lost in frantic phantasm,
requisites of an idle, unhealed mind.
Draw the virtual screen curtains open,
bring forth the lustful images to
feed the circuitous appetite, lurking
front-row-presence, at the keys.

Unknown, undertones
of desirability, poses in patient wait,
online implication of fallen ways,
predication of unveiling moments.
As any-time-**** pours its spill
of sickest gratification behind
the curtain tab selective viewing.

It is someone’s child the glides on rails
of drawn conclusions, through windows
where drapes of cyber mindlessness
hang on dank walls of seedy buildings.
The ***** grinder always plays the tune
to which monkeys happily dance,
in a world where Neanderthals hang out,
unperturbed with new technology.
Mateuš Conrad Apr 2016
well, mind you the curvature of the spine,
furry all round,
now glacier smooth with forehead
as naked as a baboon *** -
i'll keep you minding that image -
now, enlighten me,
why are we sending super-expensive
equipment to the celestial sahara
that's mars?
                       why are we gravitating
our inquiry there?
once philosophy was born from awe per se,
now it's born from mindlessness -
and i know it's harsh -
but given the scales, and timing,
i succumb to the physics' time-scale
rather than biology's -
before earth was to be inhabited,
before it was habitable -
the earth was smaller and hotter,
hence the volcanic volatility -
indeed there was life on Mars,
but that life migrated -
it had a different ecosystem -
less obstructive and more inclusive -
when the sun was a higher tier cauldron -
when earth was inhabitable -
when the sun was warmer -
              an earth inhabitable,
life thrived on Mars, once -
but then life on Mars begot migration;
i esteem earth as Australia with all
the convicts dumped on the forgotten
bridges of tectonic continents -
i've been here before, but not in a gorilla suit
readied for a party -
standing outside all of space & time
includes a necessary evil of abstracting either -
and by abstracting creating a different
non-collective narrative -
and so it was:
when the lifespan of the sun at the genesis
point was at its richest,
it soon passed to be excluding,
hence the nadir, the exodus of the sun's lifespan,
when earth became habitable - and was -
prior to the asteroid belt of the celestial
umbilical chord of safety -
still earth resembles the colony that australia
became administering the empire's convicts
among the Aboriginals -
but why probe a dead planet when you
have a dying star to mind?
of course the third planet in question is
Mercury, since Venus is as gaseous
as Jupiter and Saturn -
the world where the red dwarf will become
a spectacular insomnia of the girth,
the equator - but why probe a dead planet?
it's inhabitants never had the same
ecosystem akin to ours - why probe it?
all this work for a ******* ice cube?!
you have to be ******* me!
time-scales, remember, i'm as absurd mentioning
this as society is measuring the Olympic
100 metre sprint akin to formula 1 decimals of
care... i don't care... one finished 1st, the
other 2nd... all it takes is the dipping of
the *** in the sand to begin measuring
the long jump rather than the extended feet mark...
of course there was life on Mars, there was life
on Mars... but the dynamic of the sun changed,
it cooled down... so the next profitable planet
could express itself in evolution
from volcanic eczema... there was once life on Mars,
but there's no longer a case to argue for proof....
globalisation gave us unity among once
warring ethnicities... but that will hardly
accumulate in a trans-global orientation...
i've spotted a u.f.o. once, by god i did...
it was fluorescent like a bug phosphorescent
in the dark with a disco ball *** to shine...
listen... this time-scale is long enough to craft
a future history according to what the Martians
did - and this is my idea of god...
happy? no. sad? no. anything at all? mm...
now we're talking - earth was once
non-habitable, too hot, hence the cold  blooded
lizards akin to birch trees, the scouts of forestry -
then the mammals all confused turning
against each other when the predatory aesthetics
were forgotten at kin and Gemini to lions -
life was once apparent on Mars, but Mars is
a dead planet, i wish it was an antique shop
that the n.a.s.a. hopeful geniuses wish it was...
but it's not... just imagine that train of thought
surrounding the sun like you do with the march
of progress... but with the sun imagine
a rotation of progress...
              hey! i wouldn't be looking for
liquid nitrogen bacteria mummified on Mars...
i'd be wondering how the circle
evolved from O, to 0, to ∞ (8)
given the squish - the opposite of two black holes
colliding; honestly, you can find more meaning
in things while you take the big to be small;
i know i'm not famous among nouns -
i can hardly equal the fame of casual noun usage,
no one can, and i know that the fame i sought
is actually an anonymity in verbs (actions),
i forever the shadow - mind yourself to be content
with such a fate as i have found myself content in
progressing to expressing such a chequered flag -
chequered flag, the irony, the invitation of the many
participants for a game that takes two -
the irony of the chequered flag as the death of chess -
anyway - Mars was once a home to those who
came prior, prior to when earth was not habitable -
bypass Venus and you enter the history of Mercury,
the last rock to be minded -
and no one will prove me wrong, to have lived that
long... it is, i must add, rather dangerous
to posit yourself outside all space and all time -
it's dangerous, there's no saturday night awaiting you,
there's no casual talk over a coffee for mortal
problems taking fold and shape...
once you breach the barriers of sane conclusions
that the river explains you will become a cursor
in the only dimension waiting for you -
a vibrating stasis, imagining geographies for
clearer conclusions of movement -
and since man's technological advances have provided
the entire mapping of the earth,
you will be cleanly placed to usurp any other
imaginings other than those prescribed to
the reduction of yourself as x
moving between             point A                and
                                       point B -
                    now try that without geography
and with knowledge, as the greeks famously answered,
             a coordinating cursor x between
point α                    and                                     ω.
E A Bookish Feb 2016
You stole my last cigarette and coughed red all over the ashtray. Fountain like it overflowed with our combined wants. Your limbs seemed annexed from your mind and flew all over the place, like across my shoulders, and I had to wriggle out. You drew sticky lines in ash and spit, into a ***** table.

Your mindlessness serves you well, in times like these.

All I could do was collect the half smoked butts and construct them into something not new but at least poisonous. I keep it far from you, though you’re paying as much attention to this as the last bi-election.

Your mindlessness serves you well, in any time.

My smoke creates a protective screen between us, unhappily easily broken by a waving hand or a breath exhaled forcefully. But it’s all we have, so we sit quiet and in our own worlds. You’ve got bats and old songs in your head while I have ****** in mine. Every second of silence is a plot to **** you, every puff, a breath, a gift, a warning. I’d give you anything you want because soon you will be gone and I will take it back.

Everything. The gifts, lies, memories. So your mindlessness won’t serve you so well.

The only thing you get to keep will be a coffin and a lonely name. Keep philosophising into your glass. You want a tin foil hat? Is that your last request? Let me laugh as I dig the hole, I won’t trust anyone else with your death. It belongs to me and I’ll take you and what’s due with utter carelessness.

I close my eyes as you open your mouth and I dream up a better world. It is better because you are not in it. It is better because you are in a grave I had commissioned and then forgotten about and your name is spelt wrong and I had done that and the headstone had been kicked over and maybe I did that or maybe it was some other random marauder with more beer in their veins than blood and an arbitrary rage to exhale.

I woke up into a smoky haze when you touched my arm, asked me for a light. You'd bought a new pack of smokes and two pints. Maybe I can deal with you now. You touched my arm and I started and punched you in the temple.

You don’t mind.

In fact, you laugh and snuggle up to me, take a sip of my beer and steal my cigarette and when I say I can’t wait to **** you, you laugh as if there is no consequence.

We forget about each other as we drink ourselves senseless.
alex kennedy Aug 2014
We worry about why we exist but our only purpose
is to fall in love with a masterpiece created by a god
so lonely he had to invent an audience.

So if every one of us is one and we are all god
maybe that's why I don't see shooting stars,
but I look up and fall in love with
every wish I will never make.

Maybe when we drink wine we lose a sense of self.
Because we are not humans,
but we are something much bigger.

Maybe that's why when we drink we get hiccups.
Because hiccups attempt to shock the mind back to consciousness.
Thinking is a drug and drugs are just spiritual defibrillators.
This is not done at all it is absolutely a draft but I haven't posted in so long.
tranquil Oct 2013
in graves of boorish lands
a livingness so fake
riddling away this void
amidst the autumn race

with blink of bleeding heart
memory seeped in pain
she hangs upon his sleep
stale as love remain

but though may demon heart
pull voices in a head
and shrink below her weight
triumph as quitters dead

to find itself holed in
a crypt of blinding dark
dystopian consciousness
rejected cut spark

if faith shall fade and choke
in throes of emptiness
risk streams of million thoughts
set freeze in mindlessness

he'll find himself alive
near oasis of hate
her cascading blue eyes
crashing inferno's gate

for in his dreams as if
twisted lie angry shores
an accident of life
she drifts as nervous smoke
awaiting a distraction
that permeates this soul
as fragrance of wet earth in monsoon.
Abby Apr 2014
The sun shines upon flesh,
bathes it in heat and cheerfulness,
lavishes upon it gifts of light and promise.
The sun shines upon a walking corpse,
skin but a display,
behaving as if alive for lack of alternative.

The wind moves among hair,
covers it in cooling whimsy,
carries it towards peace and frivolity.
The wind moves among exhalations,
each breath but a show,
in an out to pass the time.

The blade sits upon a shelf,
speculates on past and present,
mindless as a thing long dead.
The blade passes through the yielding skin,
each slice like a breath,
anything to feel alive.
A fire raged in the darkness that resembled a postcard sent from hell
It was destroying the once beautiful vision that was the old town Carousel
Large striking white horses that in the past stood like angels in the night
Were all now fiercely burning as they cast an eerie sight
The smell of the charred wood and the plume of ash in the air
Left a tearjerking memory to the workers on the fair
A disturbing insight into mindlessness certain people possess
The flames rose in the air caused by those who couldn’t care less
Blistering heat was getting stronger with every hour that past
The sounds of loud sirens finally filled the air at last
Gone was the wonderful paintwork resembling times gone by
Now there were black patches that made the ancients cry
What now for the old Carousel?
With so many stories yet to tell
Feeling Real Oct 2014
I am hungry for infallible
Disastrous possession
Avoidant personalities
Violent narcissists
And angry pedophiles

I, narcissist
I have asked for this
Inattentive guardians
And half-baked characters

This willingness of mean
Wild and violent
Watch me fall asleep
And take out your mindlessness
Colm Feb 2017
If you mind
Their small mindedness
Their mindlessness
Will become the beast which kills the creative genius
RIP LOL
Raj Arumugam Jul 2013
STOP
We don’t need Science. STOP.
We already have all the answers.
STOP.
Stop all inquiry and research.
ALL ANSWERS IN OUR HOLY BOOK. STOP.
We have all the visions and the dreams and the formulae
in our Holy Books and in our religions
and in all that is Revealed by the ALMIGHTY.
Stop! Stop Science! STOP! God has spoken to us
And the BOOK says BOO! to Science.  
STOP! STOP!
God has appointed the Few to teach the Many.
Listen to the BLESSED and the HOLY ONES.
STOP.
IGNORE SCIENCE. Be ignorant of Science.
Silence SCIENCE. STOP.
STOP SCIENCE. We know all there is to be known
in our Holy Book. STOP. We will explain it to you.
Trust God and listen to those appointed by GOD.
Everything you’ve always wanted
to know is all in here. STOP. In the Holy Book.
Our Places of Worship have got it all. STOP SCIENCE.
STOP INQUIRY. Inquiry is sin. STOP. Science is against the Holy.
STOP. God does not like Science. God gave us a mind to obey
and to think only of God.
Think mindlessly about GOD. In Mindlessness is Salvation.
LET your MIND be ALWAYS of GOD. Think NOTHING ELSE.
STOP. STOP Science.
Science is endless questions. STOP. Religion is Pure.
Religion is the word of God. Science is the ACT of the Devil. STOP.
Listen to the priest and those who are holy. STOP. Obey Religion.
STOP. Obey God. STOP SCIENCE. Obey God. STOP.
Stop inquiring and research.
ALL ANSWERS IN OUR HOLY BOOK. STOP.
LISTEN. DO NOT INQUIRE. OBEY. STOP SCIENCE. STOP.
...my video of this poem is on at Youtube...
voodoo Apr 2014
So convinced that this is the end,

You tore through turbulent existence;

Your sentences, all past tense.

What is foe was once a friend,

Yet, you seek rhetoric arguments

And metaphors that never make sense.

Some crazy paradox? – If I can comment,

Your presence was always permanent.

The madness brimmed and quickly spilled

Actions of mindlessness – impulse -

Jumped the cliff, the water repulsed

Skull against stone, drilled.

While the gulls cried out grim lullabies,

Your soul fell through the punctured skies.
for K, as has always been.
nivek May 2016
The bagpipes blast through the open window
a marching band
a commemoration of The Battle Of Jutland
up the road, a stones throw,
the military cemetery full of dead young men.
Remembered now in solemn hearts and minds
- the mindlessness of war, the breaking of hearts
when the bagpipes stop piping, the silence.
SheOfNeverland Mar 2014
i think i started five poems just now
trying to find the right words
some days they flow with ease
some days they sound
strained
the backspace button shows
the most wear on my keyboard;
i wish there was a
backspace
for life...
i stared at the screen too long
and it went black
tired of waiting for me to
think of some clever combination of words;
i never set a screensaver
there's something weird about those.
i read a poem the other day
by a poet telling us
what it takes to be
a poet
but i think anyone can be
whatever they want;
who are we to judge
when we are always writing
about those who
judge us?
our species is endangered
in this age of mindlessness
we are the catalyst
for creativity
the embers of the fire
started by the great minds
of ancient times...
will we let it die completely
or will we succeed
at rekindling its
greatness?
i'm not sure where i started or where i went with this but i kind of like it
frances Mar 2014
Set down your sword and feel
the breeze of finality
in the gaps
between your fingers
Don't let it take until your blood
is spilling like sand through an hourglass
to realise that war never had any
winners;
fill your lungs with red earth skies
and the way shadow weighs more than time
Take the shard of glass out of your pocket
Sooner or later you will learn
that firewood burns better than
the memories of that girl that you thought
you loved
Terrible things happen to those
who stare into flames for too long
Don't ever think that your mother
wouldn't cry over you
You are not as disposable
as those organs you mistreated
and filled with ashes
or those torn out pages
that you spilled your mindlessness onto
Remember the way that the earth shakes
but does not crumble beneath the weight
stop me if you've heard this one before
because the words wont cease
once I have begun
spit out your numbers and lay
down your weaponry
even if you were remembered for
your downfall
you wouldn't be around to feel the ache of pride
Appreciate the beauty of the temporary
Del Maximo Jul 2010
alone in the dark
feeling the infiltration
porch lights and lamp posts
softly glowing through curtains
stealing onto the ceiling

robbing me of sleep
streaming, churning mindlessness
a holding pattern
clenched fists grasping on to night
keeping tomorrow at bay
© July 27, 2010
Squirrely Girl May 2014
Are people happy?
Are they content?
I see so many blank faces
Faces of disinterest
They are neither happy
Neither sad
Feelings are none
A blank canvas if you will
They dont feel anything
Nothing at all
Is life something that is lived
Nothing more than this?
Aspirations are not in the cards
The wheels keep turning
The direction unknown
Endings are endings
Begginings are beginnings
This is life
Mindlessness and transfixed
Life goes on
What is to be
Is to be
Regret is none
Future is approaching
Jon Elfers Nov 2014
pulsating bodies caught in the eyes,
of a beat pounded to death,
over female screams of why god why,
must we go through these cynical contortionist
abortions to stay in this state,
half alive, half dead, in this granite slate
we are now writing upon with shots
so we can synchronize to these animal times,
and the mindlessness, mindfulness of being.
Raghu Menon Apr 2020
A lockdown of everything..

Of our arrogance
Of our mindlessness
Of our ignorance
Of our apathy
Of our cruelty
Of our carelessness

With the lockdown lifted..
Will we change for the better?

Better we do..!!!
We are going through unprecedented times and situations. We have been mindlessly living and COVID 2019 is an eye-opener. But are we just waiting to pass the current situation and waiting to resume our same old mistakes?
Hal Loyd Denton Nov 2011
Unseen Glory

Yes I’m still on a kick I want you to have more I know the sorrow and trouble that plagues your life
My desire is not for frivolous mindlessness but substantial and variable defense newness maximized
On black days when trouble hits you have a birthright that you’re missing and you’re settling for strife
Your heart bears the onslaught of attacks that are already won for you all you need is claim victory

A little one cries I’m sorry I don’t care how old you are you are little children that cry is without equal
I have heard your heart neither I nor God care to hear words that are not real those are for free places
I’m talking about the places where you are bound from long ago hurts they allow no escape you quail
You long to be free the throne of heaven is open but you hold your troubles and press on in the dark

Ministering spirits have no other job or duty but to come to your rescue who denies a child comfort
“A broken and wounded spirit who can know it” or find its depth or understand its pain what remedy?
The spirit of man abides among the unseen where all is open and revealed your help a mighty fortress
All is needed is look the unseen draw bridge will lower in the company of angels the healing will begin

No more fits and disturbing thoughts to beat you a suffer no more healing has been purchased by blood
By stripes from the whip he saw your face of tears it made him steady and strong cruelty vanquished
With unsteady steps you will be lead then you will feel the burden lighten as no other he understood
Your plea is the golden coin of this realm it buys priceless love freedom from sorrow all burdens lifted
Zoe Irvine Nov 2012
No I
No Me
No Mine?
No problem

It all makes so much sense
In a meditation hall

No Music
No Mouth
No Mindlessness

Life’s a breeze
At the end of your nose

Then you leave
And life eases you in gently
It’s good to be at home

Alive

No Lie
No Meat
No Alcohol

No Drugs
No Stealing
Morality is the new rock’n’roll

Equanimity will wake you up
And help you sleep
Ignorance is no more answer

The knowing tugs at you
Won’t let you be
There are things to do
That can’t be un-done

And things to be
That cannot be done
That can only be done by being

It won’t go away

Every time you look
In the opposite direction
The mirror gets bigger

Until eventually
You always see it
Even when your eyes are shut

I endeavour to shut my eyes more
But only so that I can see
Shreya Inks Jun 2016
Directionless and I wanted to be alone;
said you'll follow me no matter where I go,
lights misguide me, darkness is home;
we're clueless little kids not so long ago.

Words heal like nothing else would;
said all my thoughts you understood,
felt like am out of the woods;
but words stab like no knife could.

Nothing stays forever but;
general outlines of memories stay,
and it runs right behind you;
all those colors of promises fade away.

Telling the truth and lies too;
swearing like we never lie,
believed lies more than the truth;
love so blind, can’t deny.

Cried over mindlessness;
every time you tried to let it go,
hard to find good in goodbye;
‘cause you know healing is slow.

Nothing stays forever but;
general outlines of memories stay,
and it runs right behind you;
all those colors of promises fade away.

© Shreya ♥
"You were scared, weren't you? Scared of closeness, exposing your scars and fresh wounds. Scared to reveal your soul and a strong desire for a soul to cling to. Scared of agony, emptiness and heartbreak. Despite that you fell, deep and irrevocably —then you attempted to get over and it saddened your heart to know that there's no getting over, only falling deeper. You went elusive, you lost the desire to be found. You assumed that would heal, but healing is a slow and long process. Sometimes, you don't heal —you just learn to embrace it, sometimes you know it's a one way road and you take it anyway. You realize, you were better as a kid 'cause everything seemed easy then and most importantly you were loved, unconditionally. You believe in general outlines, like basic thing defining a figure. Colors fade away, images lose identity but the outlines somehow guide you to recognize and help yourself to pick up and keep going. Worst you can do to somebody is to destroy the perception about love."
allen currant Nov 2014
withered eyes a
crescent moon of
dusk under the
pupils red lightning
cracking across
blank pages born
from some unseen
space beyond the
corners

when the head lolls
back the neck snaps
to refocusing on the
unseen nothing in
the physical to grasp
at looking through
all layers of deceit
at an inside a
center that cannot
exist but is always
there

motion is the mirror
the frame the negatives
rolling seamlessly teeth
and sprockets a perpetual
rotation immune to friction
faction and conflation

singular in its mindlessness
just an eye bloodshot with
nebulae as everything
collapses in on itself at the
speed of light passing
through the central retinal
vein feeding information
into the unseen center of all
i am very tired
Shanath Aug 2017
On my way back,
He got angry at the seats
Assigned separately.
A little too far,
She, a little too dimwitted,
Those who travel together
Sit together,
Now don't normal families do!
But we couldn't,
The seats were empty,
We were the first few to arrive,
She has no excuses
Other than her mindlessness.
I stopped the formal complaining
And would sort it I say.
(Rough edges).

In the aisle, a small traffic
I, the second car.
After a brief, polite but angered spat
We sat sepearate,
Say I will sort it.
The man I could tell
Spoke my tongue,
I waz getting better at observing.
After two lines of request he agreed,
And I waited for the aisle to empty.
(Questions. Answers.)

In the wait,
The man behind got up
And offered his place,
I couldn't thank him enough,
Our frivolity
Made his act a nobelity,
I declined.
We smiled at each other
Our truest of smiles
And things were better again.
We were one big family,
Looking after the other.
The man of my tongue
And the man of my family
Drifted off to a conversation,
And I to a digital page.
I can't speak for the noble man,
I didn't look at him again.
(Silence)

After a light meal,
I am craving a tea,
That's the first thing I ask now
Everytime I come home.
(It might be red.)
Travel Tales V
Posting the last
Of it all.
Took so much
To say it all.
brian mclaughlin Nov 2015
when perfectly clear
I've no reason to think
a mindlessness that I fear
stagnation does stink

I've no reason to think
give me my abstract
stagnation does stink
give me my mind back

give me my abstract
it serves me quite well
give me my mind back
set me free from this hell

it serves me quite well
to answer questions I find
set me free from this hell
and open my mind

the ability to think
this mindlessness that I fear
can be too often the case
when things are perfectly clear

I want my own answers
that way they'll be mine
so don't worry yourself
I'll be perfectly fine
eva crown Dec 2017
Too familiar with the unhealthy coping mechanism of numbing emptiness with mindlessness
Your hands are too tired of the math review you’re desperately trying to finish.
You find yourself
Tapping through Snapchat stories, barely paying attention to
The group selfies, of bright, well-lit rooms decked with Christmas decorations
Of red ribbons and green pine and mistletoe
Of the white glints of friends’ toothy smiles
Sometimes the snaps would be videos
With deafening, muffled sounds of cheers, people’s faces recognizable
Even when turned away, laughing, looking at the star, the subject of the snap
All the cameras point to her face as she dances
It’s a party, and the late realization makes you feel dumb
I wasn’t invited. But why would I be?
I’m the asocial one, the one who always has to politely decline with
“Sorry, I have to do homework, have to do this, have to do that”
They’re IB kids. You’re in AP. What’s your excuse?
You think as you sit in front of your fluorescent LED screen
The phone’s luminosity searing through your eyes
But you can’t tear them away from the festive scene playing in front of you.
They’re having fun. It’s nighttime, 11:04, 5 seconds in, but
The environment in your house versus theirs
Seem 12 hours apart, night and day,
You squint, because wow, everyone is there. The close ones, the acquaintances,
That one guy you had to sit next to once in homeroom.
It’s almost Christmas.
You glance around your room.
No cat in sight, mother upstairs, conked out.
Your phone isn’t even alive. The snap has long been over. No vibrations of incoming texts.
You sigh.
Only a semester left.
And your fingers wearily
Pick up the pencil
And you resume
Alone.
Steven L Herring Dec 2018
Let a Lonely Mountain Lie Empty
By Steven L Herring

Balled fists
Murky nights
and days full of thunder
Skies full of clouds
Skull emptied out
onto the pavement
to a two piece cadence
in a half-life limped out in blunder

And still I sit here
Fist to chin
Stuck in an everlasting wonder
Where does a soul go
when its eyes burned with plunder?
I have yet a devil in me
no bigger than the devil in thee
as we pacify them
with random acts of mindlessness
every now and again

Perfection…
Tell me then
Is that not just another *******
stabbed coarsely in the eyes
of our future?
I got a Wheel Bar to die in
if I want to go out like that
**** yeah!

Small town USA
Nothing to do here
past poking an angry elk sliding by
and drown yourself in beer
or break an angry barstool
let a lonely mountain lie empty
and listen to a game of pool

But me?
I'd rather roll the dice
and live the humdrum life
I'd rather celebrate with pie
let sleeping drunks lie
and have some sleepless nights
than wake up
to a sink full of guilt
and a head full of last night's mystery
What a hubris of misery
it can turn out to be
Take it from me...
emily Oct 2013
i’m not supposed to try and write to you or contact you or even think of you as often as i do, but i miss you.  i ******* miss you like winter & nighttime smoke fixes & pure unadulterated bliss.  it hurts to care for you as much as i do because we are an impossibility, the insolvable equation with no easy compromise.  you aren’t supposed to think about me either, but i must cross your mind sometimes, if you meant half the things you said.  i just want you to worry about me, to care for me, to wonder about me.  i need to matter, because i’m worthless without someone to pull me from disaster time after time.  i’m  bleeding again & this time it’s deep.  caring for my body has been pushed to the sidelines in favor of oblivion & self-destruction.  the weeks after graduation, i spent them in a ****** blur of mindlessness & self-hatred in the lucid moments that were few & far between.  i wish i told you why i wrote all that poetry, that it was all personal, that i lied when i said i was okay.  i need a friend, a body beside me, anyone to talk to at three in the morning when i’m crying & don’t know why.  this hurts like everything else, but you are a strand of something wishful, because maybe you care more than you said & you want to save me as much as i want to be saved.
old writing from august
Scott Salter Jan 2013
In my dreams there’s a love so lost that an empty void could not for fill that of which I crave
Lusting for something but finding crumple zones of my heart turn to failure anguish bitterness
Believing that only I can transpire to realms of hope shut away in the prison of mindlessness
To tired to fight, I crucify that of me that had any chance of giving, taking, loving, wanting.
Passionate for so much, I cry with back lashed anger towards those that dare to show feelings
So hard is my persona, but just a boy inside, robbed from joys that childhood should bring?
Composure of pretence I’m torn into my own guilt of self satisfaction but I thrive to let go
Pain is my world, doom is my love, hope is for some one else, if seeing is to believe I
Wish to see.
John Prophet Nov 2023
Hearts.
What
evil
dwells
in the
hearts
of men.
Raging
eternity
bound.
Charging
the fields
of ages.
Leaving
death,
destruction.
Suffering
in their
wake.
Madness!
Primitive
instincts
holding
sway.
Overwhelmi­ng
logic and
trust.
Animal
blood lust.
Mindlessness
on full
display.
Leaving
the innocent
in disarray
to pick up
and carry
on.
Putting
the pieces
back on
display.

— The End —