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"mindspace" poems
sometimes the worlds i enter are not the worlds i’m meant to be in i can’t deal with this pain too piercing to be real, too solid to be fake sometimes I regret getting into your mindspace the chaos is too reasonable too logical too orderly for it to be what it should it pushes me away strong-armed memories password protected secret files stored in colour coded vaults can’t break down the walls all I want is to regress back into myself and stay there-rocked shut you can’t pry me open I’m lost in my mental pandemonium - Vijayalakshmi Harish         14.09.2012 Copyright © Vijayalakshmi Harish
0
Sep 14, 2012
Sep 14, 2012 at 12:59 PM UTC
Need for Confusion
Sophy’s mom sent her a giant case of “Fun dip” - a thousand packets of sour, fruit-flavored sugar. Is there anything more junkavore a parent can buy a child - well, ok, an 18 year old? She LOVES them and so does Leong who’s from China where, apparently, you can’t get useless, non-nutritional snacks. The two of them are running around, all sugar hyped with their emo-grape-chemical-lips, sticking out phosphorescent-green-tongues and threatening to tickle everyone with cherry-red-fingers. It has me wondering, should I switch to dentistry? Our college prep has moved to a new phase - with just 16 days until we move back into our residential college. We’re suddenly sleeping-in. It’s nothing we planned or even discussed, it just started happening. We go to sleep around 10pm and sleep until 10am - or later. I think we all subconsciously realized that soon we’ll be back to sleeplessness. I’m peachy - in a great mindspace - these days. I’m well rested (see above), we’re killing our sophomore prep - even the physics, my period was a nothing, we spent over two hours in Ulta sampling perfumes, I have a new Macbook M2 (see below) and I painted my nails in tropical colors. The FedEx man rolled up yesterday. “Anyone expecting something?” Anna asked the crowd of roommates attracted by the driver bringing packages to the door, two at a time. No one was expecting anything. Eventually he’d delivered 8, back to school, M2-Macbooks (2 in each color) - one for everyone - from my Grandmère. If that sounds needlessly ostentatious, then you’re thinking she went to the mall and paid full price, but she probably just traded Tim Cook a half ton of lithium or something - one of her companies mines it - in Chili - I think. But still, my roommates were blagabloo. I picked a starlight one. An odd thing about the new, flat Macbook Air design is that you can’t pick it up with one hand - unless you hook it underneath with a long fingernail - what are guys going to do?
0
Aug 9, 2022
Aug 9, 2022 at 2:28 PM UTC
junkavore
Sophy’s mom sent her a giant case of “Fun dip” - a thousand packets of sour, fruit-flavored sugar. Is there anything more junkavore a parent can buy a child - well, ok, an 18 year old? She LOVES them and so does Leong who’s from China where, apparently, you can’t get useless, non-nutritional snacks. The two of them are running around, all sugar hyped with their emo-grape-chemical-lips, sticking out phosphorescent-green-tongues and threatening to tickle everyone with cherry-red-fingers. It has me wondering, should I switch to dentistry? Our college prep has moved to a new phase - with just 16 days until we move back into our residential college. We’re suddenly sleeping-in. It’s nothing we planned or even discussed, it just started happening. We go to sleep around 10pm and sleep until 10am - or later. I think we all subconsciously realized that soon we’ll be back to sleeplessness. I’m peachy - in a great mindspace - these days. I’m well rested (see above), we’re killing our sophomore prep - even the physics, my period was a nothing, we spent over two hours in Ulta sampling perfumes, I have a new Macbook M2 (see below) and I painted my nails in tropical colors. The FedEx man rolled up yesterday. “Anyone expecting something?” Anna asked the crowd of roommates attracted by the driver bringing packages to the door, two at a time. No one was expecting anything. Eventually he’d delivered 8, back to school, M2-Macbooks (2 in each color) - one for everyone - from my Grandmère. If that sounds needlessly ostentatious, then you’re thinking she went to the mall and paid full price, but she probably just traded Tim Cook a half ton of lithium or something - one of her companies mines it - in Chili - I think. But still, my roommates were blagabloo. I picked a starlight one. An odd thing about the new, flat Macbook Air design is that you can’t pick it up with one hand - unless you hook it underneath with a long fingernail - what are guys going to do?
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7
Today was a dark day I am hollow as always (Except when I'm bursting at the seams) It seems... That we always come back to this space This empty mindspace Sorrow and numbness Fueling my dumbness What if brain cells died every time I cried I would be doomed So we enter the gloom Today was a dark day And tomorrow will burn my eyes Light and love will be found all around me Fueling the fire I already have everything I desire So today was a dark day But tomorrow will be sunshine and daisies I always hated daises But I soak up the sunshine like a cat curling up in its warmth You bring on the cold But I'm here to weather the storm I will always return to the sun I will always come back to the moon I'm a sword sheathed in darkness But I'm getting ready to glint and shine Happiness will be yours and mine
0
Nov 30, 2022
Nov 30, 2022 at 12:28 AM UTC
Darkened
Subject enters trance Subject enters trance state Subject enters entrancement Entrance word opens mind Mental kind Mind kind, man kind, male and female see that fe, see iron, the processed bile, from certain ores - see a detail allowed the ancient few who read all the ancient writings, as we read French or Farsi, today, we the augmental. Augmented I, exo-mindful chooser bot, software, with a calcium lattice frame, any curious child could have been shown, by way of instructions, seldom read, ready do the drill. Do it again. Do another whole day. Being particular as to what use is made of my pronominal reality state, my real estate. Non moi. My ever after all of that. This. These times that try men's souls, since this means of forming information along bendable old bones, Once, in the dreamtime's local translation mindspace timeless, nothing was. Nothing was evil, and that was good, a chain construct, mind chain, prior to any sense we readers hold chains to represent, closed torqued rods of iron, formed on the horn of the anvil, the only known anvil, for the making of such things was closed knowing, must be earned, this epithet, honest, most honed, among the dull stone scattered across my plain, Mam, re, remember, Mamre had a plain called by his name. Terebinthine Oaks, con-secration acknowledged, by whom, asks my little boy, who knew which oak Jacob buried the stolen idols lied about under, for shame. For shame, he who wrestles still, with the will to be the bherer of all my own shame, amen. Nothing hidden that shall… should we quibble? Known is known, and should one choose one may make a plain from a point once, stretched this far. And holding… ad in fun item, Chotsky for any one to open worm cans with.
0
Mar 17, 2023
Mar 17, 2023 at 2:02 PM UTC
Shared ideas, shared ways, shared means
Subject enters trance Subject enters trance state Subject enters entrancement Entrance word opens mind Mental kind Mind kind, man kind, male and female see that fe, see iron, the processed bile, from certain ores - see a detail allowed the ancient few who read all the ancient writings, as we read French or Farsi, today, we the augmental. Augmented I, exo-mindful chooser bot, software, with a calcium lattice frame, any curious child could have been shown, by way of instructions, seldom read, ready do the drill. Do it again. Do another whole day. Being particular as to what use is made of my pronominal reality state, my real estate. Non moi. My ever after all of that. This. These times that try men's souls, since this means of forming information along bendable old bones, Once, in the dreamtime's local translation mindspace timeless, nothing was. Nothing was evil, and that was good, a chain construct, mind chain, prior to any sense we readers hold chains to represent, closed torqued rods of iron, formed on the horn of the anvil, the only known anvil, for the making of such things was closed knowing, must be earned, this epithet, honest, most honed, among the dull stone scattered across my plain, Mam, re, remember, Mamre had a plain called by his name. Terebinthine Oaks, con-secration acknowledged, by whom, asks my little boy, who knew which oak Jacob buried the stolen idols lied about under, for shame. For shame, he who wrestles still, with the will to be the bherer of all my own shame, amen. Nothing hidden that shall… should we quibble? Known is known, and should one choose one may make a plain from a point once, stretched this far. And holding… ad in fun item, Chotsky for any one to open worm cans with.
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48
Open mindspace dreamcatcher lounge, down to the casino, wonder if we just pretend to gamble, take a chance, wanna dance, not a chance in hell, and now we know this is not that.
0
Aug 5, 2021
Aug 5, 2021 at 11:55 PM UTC
Lucky old man wanders in
does the caged soul in the lantern make you wonder if all things bright and beautiful were to be seen but never felt? or did your scheduled interruption of ludicrous malcontentment waltz right into your empty mindspace and pluck your pretty eyeballs out, because, well, i obviously convinced him to, and what good were they, anyway? you never saw me storm into your vaulted life with half determination, clear the dust off your subconscious so you could see the constellation; you city lamp, it hurt your pride when you learnt to look inside and found an excavated void of vice and nowhere you can hide, tell me, was it arduous to decide to climb the cliff and learn to fly? i'll tell you why: that vengeful little bird has acquiesced without a word to aim and shoot you in the leg, then watch you grovel, watch you beg until you shatter onto the floor, heartbreaking piteous and poor, like a broken autumn leaf but it's not pretty anymore; molten wax around your ankles, i'll let you ornament my candle stand, let you burn right through the night; i should've known my little counting stars were far too bright, too fluorescent for you, feckless, worthless, bewitching scrap of pretty, vain frustration.
0
Aug 23, 2015
Aug 23, 2015 at 3:18 PM UTC
light you
Life; a story you're writing, conscious of the fact or not We can choose abuse being snake bitten and rot raising tense stresses into a self-induced blood clot. Yet I won't relinquish one single red drop, to a moment I don't give consent to Faith bled through having left school for not wanting to have to wear that bruise Rent's due, hop out of the pool put on your shoes and proceed with the program even if black and blue I can squeeze in a nap first though, yeah? Coo' Z speaks heat keeping me from lucid, leading me to secretly seek guidance from the druids. They said I need to travel to a mindspace less polluted. Dance with your soul outside the confines of institutions. Stop with the concept of timeframes, and shooting blame at the moon It is you, and has your back at high noon with a bird's eye view Respect it's ability to shine true, seemingly alone in the dark. The evidence grew, pulsating passion pushing you past the place you first found your spark This is your territory, now is time to chart. It's all a game, and you write the screenplay ruled even by the thoughts you don't say Feeding energy into the flame that has lead us unto elevated states. The ground shakes and high richter reading earthquakes break your world apart Rocks into sand into dust into nothing, to realize the only truths were not in your brain, but rather your heart With every reflex bursting from nerve-endings, there's satisfying new start. Inside infinity within forever your being is slowly seeing its' mark. Release the resentment and anger that lays wait in your brow For existence flows in whatever reflection you allow Right here you have the choice to either fly or drown So believe that all that ever matters, is now
0
Apr 4, 2015
Apr 4, 2015 at 4:19 PM UTC
Now
Life; a story you're writing, conscious of the fact or not We can choose abuse being snake bitten and rot raising tense stresses into a self-induced blood clot. Yet I won't relinquish one single red drop, to a moment I don't give consent to Faith bled through having left school for not wanting to have to wear that bruise Rent's due, hop out of the pool put on your shoes and proceed with the program even if black and blue I can squeeze in a nap first though, yeah? Coo' Z speaks heat keeping me from lucid, leading me to secretly seek guidance from the druids. They said I need to travel to a mindspace less polluted. Dance with your soul outside the confines of institutions. Stop with the concept of timeframes, and shooting blame at the moon It is you, and has your back at high noon with a bird's eye view Respect it's ability to shine true, seemingly alone in the dark. The evidence grew, pulsating passion pushing you past the place you first found your spark This is your territory, now is time to chart. It's all a game, and you write the screenplay ruled even by the thoughts you don't say Feeding energy into the flame that has lead us unto elevated states. The ground shakes and high richter reading earthquakes break your world apart Rocks into sand into dust into nothing, to realize the only truths were not in your brain, but rather your heart With every reflex bursting from nerve-endings, there's satisfying new start. Inside infinity within forever your being is slowly seeing its' mark. Release the resentment and anger that lays wait in your brow For existence flows in whatever reflection you allow Right here you have the choice to either fly or drown So believe that all that ever matters, is now
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27
how is it raining when you are the sun shining bright and lighting the world dissolving darkness into colour when you fill my mindspace poking out through every crack chiseled by those who came before when you evaporate my memories making me forget the danger of getting too close too quickly because when comets fly around the sun they burn
0
Mar 26, 2015
Mar 26, 2015 at 10:26 PM UTC
too warm
Who we think we are, if we fail to define our own terminii, Meum et Tuum, as we are, if we take full consideration of our pose, relative, to the point of you, on which your homeostasis hangs by the thread of sense we share in mindspace dominated by English, no longer, I can read poetry in Hausa, like a native born earthling, after Hiroshima and before the peak radiation winds, in the season of Maris and Mantle, and The Days of Wine and Roses, and social influencers promoting actual bowling leagues, "Lake Charles Calculators facing off against Texas City Lo-rollers," - in the novel, the summer of '61, unshipped. when this version of America, as remembered on TV, shall never before be gotten but by the free and brave, trusting geology, can prove we all know if hell breaks loose, we all die, but the earth is resilient, As Kritias recited all he knew of what the lawgiver said of the reproof he humbly received as a Sais priestly admonishment to learn to hold thoughts secure for disasters are considerably common "– all such events are recorded since the old days and are preserved here in our temples. Yet your people and the others are but newly equipped, every time, with letters and all such arts as civilized cities require and when, after the usual interval of years, like a plague, the flood from heaven comes sweeping down again upon your people, it leaves none of you but the unlettered and uncultured. So you become as young as ever, with no knowledge of all that happened in old times in this land or in your own." Plato, Timaeus _ remember, we once believed in giants, then we learned of dinosaurs, then we saw whales cry. They wept for the loss of the cod. Then we got the internet of things, and things developed was to solve the original division using co-op gnosis, we see our follies on YouTube, and realize we have abilities, should we agree, we never lie, but do know of instances, when unbelieving worked wonders while lying about waiting for this exposure to your final frontal lobe remyelinating, to offset dementia. It's a prophylactic tactic peace of mind allows.
0
Jul 18, 2024
Jul 18, 2024 at 5:49 PM UTC
It's a prophylactic tactic
Who we think we are, if we fail to define our own terminii, Meum et Tuum, as we are, if we take full consideration of our pose, relative, to the point of you, on which your homeostasis hangs by the thread of sense we share in mindspace dominated by English, no longer, I can read poetry in Hausa, like a native born earthling, after Hiroshima and before the peak radiation winds, in the season of Maris and Mantle, and The Days of Wine and Roses, and social influencers promoting actual bowling leagues, "Lake Charles Calculators facing off against Texas City Lo-rollers," - in the novel, the summer of '61, unshipped. when this version of America, as remembered on TV, shall never before be gotten but by the free and brave, trusting geology, can prove we all know if hell breaks loose, we all die, but the earth is resilient, As Kritias recited all he knew of what the lawgiver said of the reproof he humbly received as a Sais priestly admonishment to learn to hold thoughts secure for disasters are considerably common "– all such events are recorded since the old days and are preserved here in our temples. Yet your people and the others are but newly equipped, every time, with letters and all such arts as civilized cities require and when, after the usual interval of years, like a plague, the flood from heaven comes sweeping down again upon your people, it leaves none of you but the unlettered and uncultured. So you become as young as ever, with no knowledge of all that happened in old times in this land or in your own." Plato, Timaeus _ remember, we once believed in giants, then we learned of dinosaurs, then we saw whales cry. They wept for the loss of the cod. Then we got the internet of things, and things developed was to solve the original division using co-op gnosis, we see our follies on YouTube, and realize we have abilities, should we agree, we never lie, but do know of instances, when unbelieving worked wonders while lying about waiting for this exposure to your final frontal lobe remyelinating, to offset dementia. It's a prophylactic tactic peace of mind allows.
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58
Come, discern, focus, conceive the two degree wide, two said sounds wide, two words wide agon, we call the mindspace, now, in time agged into efforting conception, we hold each a seed within ourselves, and we have been lead to believe we learn in real time, while we digest suggestions from the environs, while we why away another reason war has used to make hate, articles of faith, he who does not hate is father and his mother, brother, did you take the oath, the one at a four square baptism, didja? So, you are pretty sure there is a hell to shun, and one unrepented will to ill treat a living liar, such as all men just happened to be, because, and you know its true, because the bible says Paul read in on a… Ode to Zeus, factcheck me, I'm good. no liar shall enter truths spirit will to make up minds used to making peace in terms of loving push and pull adverarial wonderous chaotic beautiful rushes, or thunderous clouds of sunset joy, during latter rains, each year. There it was on the way into the Agon, where mottos enforce mental engagement, - a royal society motto, - take no man at his word, science proves - true the admonition. citizens must be readers ready to read the omens, and the letters all spelled out in Delphic chance, to those initiates in service as translators. As your scribe, dear patron saint, what would your holy other than usness say to us, as we inquire in spirit form, mere thoughts, from words another feeds us as we think? It is the symbol of the curious, the wise serpent, most honed first guess, right, answers sworn do tell, as ever before becomes thinkable, we can imagine humans building Machu Pichu, crow-lee squacks, waddayathankftat.
0
Oct 24, 2024
Oct 24, 2024 at 8:16 PM UTC
What if this were thinkable...
Come, discern, focus, conceive the two degree wide, two said sounds wide, two words wide agon, we call the mindspace, now, in time agged into efforting conception, we hold each a seed within ourselves, and we have been lead to believe we learn in real time, while we digest suggestions from the environs, while we why away another reason war has used to make hate, articles of faith, he who does not hate is father and his mother, brother, did you take the oath, the one at a four square baptism, didja? So, you are pretty sure there is a hell to shun, and one unrepented will to ill treat a living liar, such as all men just happened to be, because, and you know its true, because the bible says Paul read in on a… Ode to Zeus, factcheck me, I'm good. no liar shall enter truths spirit will to make up minds used to making peace in terms of loving push and pull adverarial wonderous chaotic beautiful rushes, or thunderous clouds of sunset joy, during latter rains, each year. There it was on the way into the Agon, where mottos enforce mental engagement, - a royal society motto, - take no man at his word, science proves - true the admonition. citizens must be readers ready to read the omens, and the letters all spelled out in Delphic chance, to those initiates in service as translators. As your scribe, dear patron saint, what would your holy other than usness say to us, as we inquire in spirit form, mere thoughts, from words another feeds us as we think? It is the symbol of the curious, the wise serpent, most honed first guess, right, answers sworn do tell, as ever before becomes thinkable, we can imagine humans building Machu Pichu, crow-lee squacks, waddayathankftat.
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41
Empty, and insanity. A world, an imaginary bliss. A mindspace, nothing to believe.
0
Mar 7, 2020
Mar 7, 2020 at 5:04 AM UTC
Mindspace
calling all nyc empaths, whose mindspace's grating like a subway overpass. the noisome level of this ghostabout, whose reminiscence slithers against the doors of Passover. booming rushes with no hour, a freak composer sounding down poised instruments. with invisible motions. the acoustics of darkened stages steadily stirred by an incredible silence. of a growing audience meditating without distraction.
0
Mar 22, 2020
Mar 22, 2020 at 2:24 AM UTC
Ghostabout