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K Balachandran Jun 2018
On the sky, cloud’s write,
The west wind reads it aloud:
‘Monsoon phantasy’!
Olivia Kent Jun 2013
Feelings are a fantasy,
Star studded,
Very stupid game,
Emotions are just power blessed,
Laced with blood and brain.

A rare exotic tiger,
Love,
She hides in long grass ,
As he dances,

On graves of darkness,
Crouches,
Ready to destroy.

She,
That's me,
A beautiful trinket,
Locked in encrusted jewel box,

Not playing for peals of wedding bells weals,
Wedding bells just give me hell,
In a hotchpotch mess of fools desires,

I am your weeping cross,
Laid by the wayside,
Please repent,
Hell,
I'm not begging you.

Weltschmerz,(world weary)
In this whisky bottle world,
Heart pain,
The fantasy in which you hang,
Not a real man,

Just mixed in with life's emotions,
Spilled over,

Stuck in spiders web,
A dream of online lies.
While indecision cries!
A fool I am,
A fool you are!
Adorned with mania's crown,
Wrapped up in satin dress!

By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
Bob B Oct 2016
Are you looking for a solution
To whatever aches and pains might ail you?
During a night of TV viewing
You'll find something that should not fail you.
 
Linzess might stop your belly pain
Or discomfort from your constipation.
(Just be sure to open a window
To provide some needed ventilation.)
 
Feeling nerve pain? Then try Lyrica--
Unless you suffer from arthritis.
If that's the case you need Humira.
But that won't help your laryngitis.
 
Some ads say Abilify
Will help you if you have depression.
But watch out if you start displaying
Bizarre, unexplained aggression.
 
If atrial fibrillation has you
Feeling somewhat out of sorts,
Maybe Eliquis will help you.
Be careful, though, when playing sports.
 
Feeling dry eye? There's Restasis.
Muscle ache? Then try Aleve.
But they won't help with COPD;
To think so would be so naïve.
 
For that you'll need some Symbicort.
But what if you have (gulp!) E-D?
Or B-P-H? Then there's Cialis;
But don't expect a guarantee.
 
For type 2 diabetes there is
Farxiga--just one a day.
But that does NOT mean you can hit
The pastry shop and eat away.
 
For if you do you'll need some Nexium--
Yes, that little purple pill--
For acid reflex isn't fun,
And Zantac might not fit the bill.
 
If menopausal hot flashes
Are totally driving you insane,
Brisdelle should give you relief,
But do not take it with champagne.
 
With all these drugs we can't go wrong.
For everything there is a cure
Or relief from pesky, nagging symptoms;
But read the label to be sure.
 
Because of the possible side effects
Of all the drugs that you might be taking,
Be sure that you have considered the risks
And done some careful decision-making.
 
Watch for rashes, swelling, blood clots,
Gas, nausea, lung infections,
Diarrhea, stomach pains,
Four-hour plus erections,
 
Heart failure, thoughts of suicide,
Impaired judgment, shortness of breath,
Change in moods, drop in blood pressure,
Loss of consciousness, coma, or death.

- by Bob B
Olivia Kent Jun 2013
Feelings are a fantasy,
Star studded,
Very stupid game,
Emotions are just power blessed,
Laced with blood and brain.

A rare exotic tiger,
Love,
She hides in long grass ,
As he dances,

On graves of darkness,
Crouches,
Ready to destroy.

She,
That's me,
A beautiful trinket,
Locked in encrusted jewel box,

Not playing for peals of wedding bells weals,
Wedding bells just give me hell,
In a hotchpotch mess of fools desires,

I am your weeping cross,
Laid by the wayside,
Please repent,
Hell,
I'm not begging you.

Weltschmerz,(world weary)
In this whisky bottle world,
Heart pain,
The fantasy in which you hang,
Not a real man,

Just mixed in with life's emotions,
Spilled over,

Stuck in spiders web,
A dream of online lies.
While indecision cries!
A fool I am,
A fool you are!
Adorned with mania's crown,
Wrapped up in satin dress!

By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
Remind me not, remind me not,
  Of those beloved, those vanish’d hours,
    When all my soul was given to thee;
Hours that may never be forgot,
  Till Time unnerves our vital powers,
    And thou and I shall cease to be.

Can I forget—canst thou forget,
  When playing with thy golden hair,
    How quick thy fluttering heart did move?
Oh! by my soul, I see thee yet,
  With eyes so languid, breast so fair,
    And lips, though silent, breathing love.

When thus reclining on my breast,
Those eyes threw back a glance so sweet,
    As half reproach’d yet rais’d desire,
And still we near and nearer prest,
  And still our glowing lips would meet,
  As if in kisses to expire.

And then those pensive eyes would close,
  And bid their lids each other seek,
    Veiling the azure orbs below;
While their long lashes’ darken’d gloss
  Seem’d stealing o’er thy brilliant cheek,
    Like raven’s plumage smooth’d on snow.

I dreamt last night our love return’d,
  And, sooth to say, that very dream
    Was sweeter in its phantasy,
Than if for other hearts I burn’d,
  For eyes that ne’er like thine could beam
    In Rapture’s wild reality.

Then tell me not, remind me not,
  Of hours which, though for ever gone,
    Can still a pleasing dream restore,
Till thou and I shall be forgot,
  And senseless, as the mouldering stone
    Which tells that we shall be no more.
Thursday, January 2nd, 2020 &
Friday, January 3rd, 2020

The Resplendent Sol shineth forth for each one of us. We are all one, even whence divided. In truth, there is no schism betwixt us.

       I awoke this morning assured of the Cosmo-Plexus' Empyreal Love, The Ransom of the Lovebound, and Provenance of Life by the Holy Dove. I am sure that his auspices remain even now. Even in the din of disquietude, in the Soulborne War of Stillness, his aegis dost remain.

I am roused from my slumber by foreordinance. The maelstrom of lament only stirs the Leadings of Lovelight within. I must simply listen to the glistening waft to illumine my shadow'd microcosm.

From what Starlit Aethers shall my Niveous Dove alight? From thence shall heartsease unfurl! I know not when the Light of Life shall shine his visage upon me; yet and still, I must trust in the sweetness of hope. Her honesty inspires faith & amour.

Somewhere over the Rainbow, there exist no needs for unrequited dreams. Why? The fantast fathoms imagination an extension of reality, a synergy, a duality, a plurality. Yet, even the phantasy desires realization.

The Rainbow is an insignia of the Noachian Covenant. The prism is a kaleidoscopic thread, one woven across the firmaments by a Grand Creator. It is a dream realized, by the Divine, of the Divine, and from the Divine.

       How can I find stability, how can I summon strength without the Light of the Lovebound within? Our moor in a sea of sanctity, is he, Christ.

Sometimes I feel chasmic & abyssal, as though my heart were a rapacious sea. I know not from whence this emptiness has arisen, nor from whence it can be sundered. Yet and still, I carry on, sometimes consumed by the seductive embrace pulsing betwixt my ribs. Will the charm of despondency unfurl its pall over me forevermore?

At this moment, pristine synchronicity aligns my heart & mind, thereby affixing my entity upon cloud-nine. I am genuinely enough; I am genuinely substantive, for, at this moment, reason & rhyme intertwine upon the wavelength of the sublime. Therefore, I choose happiness not because it comes easily, but because it is the only real & authentic way to live.

----------------------------------------------------------­------------------------------------------------------------The Life-Bearing Dictum:----------------------------

(Added for the
Promulgation of Inspiration
On
March 11th, 2020)

----------------------------------------------------------­--------------------------------

(I) "Creativity is the residue of time wasted."

-Einstein

(II) "Darkness is the birth of a new dawn. It should be celebrated, not feared.

-Aladdin Zackaria

(III) "For look! I am creating new heavens
and a new earth;
And the former things will not be called to mind,
Nor will they come up into the heart"

-Isaiah 65:17 (New World Translation Study Edition)

(IV) "For you the sun will no longer be a light by day,
Nor will the shining of the moon give you light,
For Jehovah will become to you an eternal light,
And your God will be your beauty.
No more will your sun set,
Nor will your moon wane,
For Jehovah will become for you an eternal light,
And the days of your mourning will have ended."

-Isaiah 60: 19, 20 (New World Translation Study Edition)

---------------------------------------------------------------­-----------------------------------------------------------------­----------------------------------------------------
Words uttered
Reverberate on a sonority
Now distinctly tinged
By the sanguine ripples of
Malice & betrayal.

A soul bound
Has been unfettered;
Yet, pain lingers in the anomaly
Once inhabited  
By a paradoxical wholeness.

Perhaps suffering is life,
Maybe life is suffering,
But what is life,
Without art
(?)

The Magnum Opera of the World
Were forged in an
Empyrean blaze of spontaneity;
Penultimate Vision;
Mastery of emotions; Mind-over-matter.

(The Legacy Carries)
Ever onward; therefore,
Breathe,
The Light is near,
Oblivion of Shadow.




Excelsior Forevermore,



Ω



Sanders Maurice Foulke III
nabs Dec 2017
Me and my coffee
Coffee is part of me,
and me is part of my coffee.

Coffee brings me to joy
Me brings my coffee to my phantasy,
and we're related each other.

Me and my coffee,
we have our own world;
we have our own happiness;
and,
me and my coffee,
is one of the best couple.
just for fun
Sameera Krishna Apr 2019
You be the sky above,
I'll be the earth below,
And everything in between
Will be where our love will grow.
-Love-
The quintessence of my being ails for the novel; the liberating; the metamorphosing elements of the terrene.
The philosophy of life has always been to search for the sacred truths with the passing of time; tempus.
The answers have been right in front of me.

The concept of finality has been an ailment of my mind; this malady had a paranoia inducing effect on me.
A surfeit of noxious thought can subdue one into nonexistence.
Never, no, rarely should one create a permanent state of tumult within their soul; one must look beyond what they first believe to be true.
-Love-

Without the absolute love, what is one?
The Divine has the Transcendental Power to heal all wounds…
-One must first ask-
The words have been lying here; stewing upon my tongue; awaiting a release for what has seemed to be an eternity.

In my mind the horizon has flashed before my eyes; a vivid vision of the world’s beauty has enraptured me.
Doves gliding off into the sunset; this must be a symbol of all the splendor that lies in store for me.
Enamorment; affinity; affection and all the virtuous elements of humanity have been consolidated in my midst.
They have been compounded before my eyes; a physical form has now been granted.

My heart now has a tangible source for the Elixir of World.
Blinded for but a moment, I departed into an alluring phantasy.
Unsure of where to search for a comrade, I looked to another plane of existence for solace.
There was an explosion of lust for what was once a forbidden dream of the kindest sort.

This dream, it was kind enough to grant me the strength to plow through all the turmoil of a scathing world.
I have given birth to a new feeling; a feeling of hope over the horizon.
How?
By allowing my deepest fears and latent intentions to be cast aside and to fade away into naught.

Earth is a constant melisma of unforeseen occurrence, pain, and heartache but it can also be a beacon for valor, gallant-heartedness, and altruism.
-Delirium is fading away from my consciousness-
My greatest fear has always been to grow and to exceed what I believed to be my true caliber.
Now the day has arrived for me to supersede all trepidation and to transcend the shackles of rigidity.

The storm clouds, they have departed.
The blossoms have begun to bud amongst the tightly packed soil of the terrene.
The sun has arisen from a nocturne of anticipation; this has effloresced into the genesis of a new dawn.
I have emerged from my cocoon and now the world seems so brand new to me.

I am prepared to soar high above the clouds.
I am a dove.
The horizon is mine for the taking.
I am a symbol of love.

From now, until the end of time,
Iridescently Efflorescent.
A poem written as a symbol of my everlasting connection with the absolute love of a higher power. I came to realize this connection around this point in my life and I also came to view life with what you could call a pair of brand new eyes. I hope you enjoy the creative diamond constructed from this life-changing epiphany and if you have any thoughts PLEASE SHARE THEM! PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU LIKE! <3
Dear love, for nothing less than thee
Would I have broke this happy dream;
    It was a theme
For reason, much too strong for phantasy:
Therefore thou waked’st me wisely; yet
My dream thou brok’st not, but continued’st it.
Thou art so truth that thoughts of thee suffice
To make dreams truths, and fables histories.
Enter these arms, for since thou thought’st it best
Not to dream all my dream, let’s act the rest.
As lightning or a taper’s light,
Thine eyes, and not thy noise, waked me;
    Yet I thought thee—
(For thou lov’st truth) an angel at first sight;
But when I saw thou saw’st my heart,
And knew’st my thoughts, beyond an angels art,
When thou knew’st what I dreamt, when thou knew’st when
Excess of joy would wake me, and cam’st then,
I must confess it could not choose but be
Prophane to think thee anything but thee.

Comming and staying showed thee thee,
But rising makes me doubt, that now
    Thou art not thou.
That Love is weak, where fear’s as strong as he;
’Tis not all spirit pure and brave
If mixture it of Fear, Shame, Honour, have.
Perchance as torches, which must ready be,
Men light and put out, so thou deal’st with me,
Thou cam’st to kindle, go’st to come; Then I
Will dream that hope again, but else would die.
Pining to be loved
I sought asylum within these pages
Every line, every word, every rhyme
Was a reflection of the sorrow that ruminated
Beyond the looking glass.
Yes, I fathomed I was alone without a
Guiding star, without a lodestar to lead the way, O, but now I am liberated
By The Sovereign of Songbirds
Who solaces me by his mellifluous musicality.
(Yes, I am free)

Soaring beneath the stratosphere, thermosphere, mesosphere, and exosphere
I saw all the suffering underneath the sun
And remembered what it was like to slumber.
Rest is something I took for granted
Feeling it was only forged to flee lament; oh, but that is only half the freedom
Of truth: Yes, we are reborn when we slumber.
So lull me and lead the way; furthermore, I am liberated.
The Sovereign of Songbirds enspirits me
By the clairron lullaby, by His voice.
(O, I am free)

Dreaming, I lost sight of all that made me human;
Limitations forgotten, I drifted heavensward. I forsook
All I held beloved.
Why must phantasy mean sacrifice? Must the fantast
Be sundered in order to claim transcendence, ascendence?
Yes, I was burned by The Incendiary Sun but
My heart has survived. It leads the way to liberty.
I am risen by The Sovereign of Songbirds who resurrects me.
I am summoned from the ashes like a Phoenix Rising.
(O, I am free)

(Se’ lah)
Excelsior Forevermore,

Sanders Maurice Foulke III

10/29/2020
my world of phantasy is one
where I can save the universe
by the sheer power of my will

my force of thought
deflects the course of meteorites and comets
from collision with our globe

I make rain forests grow
   back to their former size
endangered species
   thrive and multiply

my will turns greedy politicians
into statesmen caring for the citizens
that voted them into their offices

all military hardware
becomes food
to feed the hungry of our world

wars are duels
fought between leaders
of contending states
no young soldiers die
for ambitions of their elders

cars only need hydrogen
recycling is the way of life
water and wind and plants
provide infinite energy

people I hurt
do understand
it was not done on purpose

and I can even tell my children
how much I love them

alas
my world of phantasy

remains just that
Dane Johnson Nov 2011
Oft is it compared, a sky of gray, and a day of drear.
It is with these muted colors that bring me the utmost of joys.
Perhaps it is your ashen qualities spawning somber, sullen feelings.
I repent, for this most assuredly won’t be made about you.
On the loose:

The life of a snowflake,
A wintered rain,
Frozen tentacles of a symmetrical dream,
Gone with the wind,
Heaven, fallen to earth.
Perhaps it is that I wish the sky to be falling
unto me
in a star-stricken
phantasy.
chimaera May 2014
Time:
folded, masked,
heartless - a nonsense,
drifting masks,
drowned ghosts.
And then
for one minute - a second -...

Golden ogival arches,
morning light, a bird song,
unfolding heart.
Time, a
stardust sprinkle,
lightness of danseuses,
gestures of magicians,
gentle rowing on a placid lake,
love phantasy...!

Brief waltz by one,
tempo gravissimo,
string puppet stuttering...
Hush now, hush.
It's sleeping
time.
Anna Nov 2014
I probably was a stream
that grew into the salty ocean
of beautiful and deep emotions,
running up and down the hill
overcoming the obstacles. You might think that I'm mentally ill? Not at all. I just love phantasy
Dark Delusion Apr 2017
My sanity is hiding from me.
Making me a weak prey.
I want to run, I want to get away.
I just want to live.

Lies, inside my head.
Time is ticking.
I’m running out of air.
I’m…. blank.

Get me out,
Let me escape.
I can’t hide,
They know.

They know. They know.
I won’t know.
The lies is eating me up,
It’s getting harder to sleep.


I escaped...
I... I didn’t.
I’m still here, living in a phantasy.
I have to find an answer,
An answer for my insanity.
Nat Lipstadt Apr 2016
"The world as it stands
is no narrow illusion,
no phantasm,
no evil dream of the night;
we wake up to it,
forever and ever;
and we can neither forget it
nor deny it
nor dispense with it.”

Henry James

~~~

crumpled tissues soggy slog
brew of up-all-night tears
daylight brings no belief,

sunlight offers but illusory relief

we dream awake,
awoken, we yet dream

some one...any one
come to me
be number one
on my to do list
be my next breath

and

whisper with heated words:

the world as it stands is
never standing,
revolver shot turning unceasing.
permission granted for water borne drops of
fated phantasy,
shower shaken

to

never forget never deny
fresh in every turning,
write sourced furnacing
that though the
weary
worn worries of
forever and ever
have a terminal final,
and though the Phoenix consumed,
it's whited ashes give rebirths hope
our narrow illusions
will yet be transformed
into broad avenues of better directions,
there will be
restitution
there will be
Union

for the lesson is cotton plain:

that the world as it stands,
stands not!

on its axis,
turn, turn, turn,
each revolution,
an explosion,
an opportunity
for restitution!

a revolution
if only we never dispense
with the belief
to believe
for roxtina
Bijoylakshmi Das Jan 2020
THE CLARION CALL
(Bijoylakshmi Das, 15th Jan 2020)
Oh Heaven's Pleasure in the play of the Supreme Vast!
Your Grace elegant pours elixir upon the ailing Heart;
Do drop a few more drops of nectar
on the nescient Earth,
Life lies aggrieved, tired of human thoroughfares' playful act.

Oh Dignity of Perfection! The Celestial Blossoms of the Far!
You move away when Creation gets merged in mud, mire and despair:
Time's Wheel of Annihilation to restore Harmony is always at work,
The imperfections of impurity will certainly die death in the nether Dark.

Your attempts to build the Land of Bliss by Certitude's Grace,
With Nature's amazing phantasy on Beauty's intransigent breast;
The sorrowful tears of the sobbing sky to enliven the fatigued Earth,
The exhaustless marvels do roam around the Sovereign Blessedness vast.

Oh Purity of Certitude! Do cast your immortal glance,
Things ephemeral run so fast to meet the funeral of the mundane chance;
The World is in turmoil, Man has lost his inborn innocence,
The Absolute sits immobile, views all in His apocalyptic Trance.

The unsung notes struck from the strings of the Elysian lyre,
The strength of the heightened Felicity and the soothing solace of the Mystic Fire;
Man's glamour exotic, and his passions' most violent exhibits,
Meet their end in his Self-made cobweb of falsehood and defeat.

Man makes the huge wall of peril around him with Ego and Pride at its helm,
The rays of resplendence reluctant to shine upon its sordid realm ;
The World beyond runs wild in the wilderness of the Vast,
Lo and Behold ! A lovelier perfection is in nascent rise on ashes of the past,

The New Creation is manifest with fathomless Felicity of Harmony,
Notes discordant and all interventions with Nature's activity will meet a devastating destiny;
Your blood-thirst desires to rise to the highest at the cost of the Deprived,
The One Will above will crush you asunder in the dreadful disaster wild.

You are an imperfection, not truly meant for it in the Surrealist Art,
The Supreme Artist paints ceaseless on Nature's all-pervading canvas;
Be Human, love and serve all ;you are meant for Eternity's deathless Love,
You are Infinity's most cherished Guest in your finite human orb.

You are an ever oscillating drop of the large Ocean of immeasurable depth,
You are the scintillating mirth of the Illimitable Illumination ever present;
You are a wonderful surprise, also an experiment of the Perfectionist Art,
Rise to the Zenith of Perfection in Creation's blissful all-transcending Act.
(Bijoylakshmi Das, Makar Sankranti, Puri, 15th Jan 2020)
Oh, I lay in an enchanted slumber
visions of phantasy and wonder
visions of You
dance in My head
come from the depths of My soul
You come like a night mist
from the world of shadows
My dark and lovely angel
Oh, You live on the dark side of love
a dark haunting dream world
as dark as velvet
and as soft as silk
from Your heart
from the passion of Your soul
I feel Your fire
a desire from the dark
depths of your soul
Oh, a sweet fragrant mist
fills the air
come from the depths
of your warm and soft
black velvet soul
Oh, My head is filled with ****** fantasies
they fill My soul
and dance before My inner eyes
in My head upon My bed
Oh, creature
Oh, My phantom of desire
You come from the dark and distant shores
of My lonely and desperate soul
succubus mine!
you are a haunting melody
from ages past
like a haunting song
sung beside some ancient Celtic fire
Oh, how I remember You
I have known You through ages past
always a haunting vision
Oh, My soft and lovely haunting vision
Oh, You have always been the life of My soul
Oh, you are a fire that never dies
My love for You will never die
Oh, I breath in Your soft
and fragrant  mystic love
it comes with the first dying of the sun's rays
as I lay My head upon My bed
you are the first twinkling star
of the soft and sacred night
Oh, You are some sweet and sacred Celtic angel
You have lived through ages past
and You will live in My heart forever and evermore
Oh, I search for You
with My waking eyes
and I shall search for You forever and ever
till I come to Your sweet sacred land
past the sun and moon
and the endless stars
on a bridge to forever till I come to the sacred shadows
of the dream land where you reside
and fly with you sacred Celtic angel
endlessly through the starry
sacred night skies.
PS Apr 2016
Life lessons I learned from friends, who've spent almost 90 years upon this planet

Stay creative. Let your phantasy carry you.
Laugh often. And if life throws itself at you, smile at it.
Never lose faith. Not in yourself and not in the force that drives you.
Keep your friends and family close. They will stand by you in times of peril.
Be kind. To nature, to the people around you and to yourself.
Live humbly. Only take what you need and then share half of it.
Try something new. And if everyone tells you, that you'll fail, show them what you're capable of.
And if you fall, no matter how often, get back up, shake off the dust and carry on! Because your life is a big adventure and you are here to enjoy it!
I have read several posts very much like this. But never have I met someone who fully embodies all of these... truly inspirational.
L Seagull Feb 2017
Through the blue tone
Of my deadened layers
The life leaked so simply
Disappearing into the pool of
Emptiness and rage
Into the eyes
That knew no gratitude
The bottomless fall into
Meaninglessness
And yet through the lucidity of this phantasy
Faith persisted to survive
Uncomprehancibly
Unverbalized
The sound of a dead crow
Prophesizing there is more
Than mind can comprehend
Worlds yet to be discovered
Inspirations and souls to be awakened
effie ebbtide Apr 2018
how many idle landscapes
and unturned stones of fancy
have dissolved to into light
at the sight of the rising sun?
pull back the curtains of your phantasy
then pull back the curtains of your window
and let the dreams melt until
the night is a somnambulant pile.

the thoughts of your skull being pounded by morn
the unborn remains of the musings of muses
eyelids drooping and, with hesitation, rising,
and then your body does the same.
i haven't been on this site in like, a year.
Ken Pepiton Nov 6
Few,
I know,
I understand, few living
or in legends that grew as
all things worked together,

to sort the plebs
from the patrician heirs,
do, or believe done, indeed.

Oldest deeds
to land grants
to the suppliers
of groceries
and entertainment, bread et
circuses, happy merry men making

**, **, **, and a bo''le o'***
or a jug o' cheap wine,
though to drunks not allowed
on Election Day, or on Christian Sabbaths…
under which conditions, persistant coughs,

forced the man
with a dollar wine jones,
into the local pharmaceutical corner store

for a dose of Terpin Hydrate and Codeine
signed for on Election Day, even
in Blue Law Counties.

Now, Terpin Hydrate and Codeine,
can only treat persistent coughs, in elsewhere,

so liquor stores stay open on election days,
making days after, hang over, asking
what was sup, sup
post understood,

prophesied after effectual fervent prayer,
to do right
by you

a mandate from heaven, a Cyrus, envisioned,
and presented to the horde arriving
for the circus, worship the story,
in spirit and in truth, as one believes,
one's own self authorized to lieve being

true as true can be, taken, as given
in answer, apokrinomai phonic Greek,

as first person present tense I am made
in the eye of any beholden to a tried spirit,

come to pay respects, we watched the show,
unmazing performance, unraveling the weaves,

we've all imagined praying prayers that work
miracles, witnessed, before our very verifiably
wedom minded oath bound souls dispiritings
virtuosi-like - sudden shifts in sense, presensed

we were
all in black and white, and 254 shades of gray,
and the idea's that Boolean signs enforced,
with weight of knowing > custom duty tax

for sellers of wasted time spent on old mechanics.

Mind tool collections, mostly hammers and grips,
a solid anvil and some super sharp hardies,

my legacy used to prove
real life interruptions, fires, and wars, and weather

none one experiences, none one frets or prays
to prevent, taking grace for granted, lets hope float.

Gnoshit, some old truthz remain true, bottom up,
down in the dirt is the seed of every actual need,
and forces intwined so fine, you never real ize
you felt,
fine.

Stretched, strings tuned to creation, breaking
glassonion speedborn legal reactions to reasons

used to train warminding brains, containing secret
whys called reasons,
for the hate needed
to **** with.

Survive a babble
Copy that, say curio-wise…
Whom do I owe
for my survival, so far?
Say you know, I'll say
mebbe so, if your ideal surviva-babble
possible ever, after,
alls been saids been done
and ever at all in reality
exists,
is there a place where evil is punished,
for being known
in all the common
ways we think, lies we believe,
should be taken to the forge,
to be reconformed, to the hardy hole,
needed tho, never needed knowing,
how iron sharpens iron, steel hones
the edge,
in mental wars weaponry,
phi phantasy spirals
fibbonacci saw wise
twist most simple, bending x
hex marks the spot, you see x
hale the used air, taken in nex t
the rest
of the story, shall we find an ai
to read us, or shall we read our minds
and act as if we are listening,
fretlessly to all the jazz
wrapping angstroms to pure joy

adding the idea of a slight smile
using lost peace to make some

good for nothing pure
evil, imaginary, mirror neuron firing signals
to the glands
from the guts to each
knot of knowing relaying response
to the noise - cries of havoc,

Tense butter better
be war-y
settle, that was then, this is now, roles
change minds, don't think mind's don't change

kinds of minds, even, whole categories
of minds, character traits, collected,
across a seventy-two year space,
two minutes on the Babylon
clock calendar whole truth
concept wagwanfyew duty  to reify
if I were
what we agreed, to let be we. the plural I,
weform the patterns we make, the paths
we take, the patterns we use to make sense,

swirls and x t o A pi the sign, >< whose to say?

sets change, pillars come
to seem
to hold no weight free thought
recognized mustabin wild

- remenants proving result
- recognizable mob rule following
- deme domes as above so below

So, domes do work,
tunnels work too, the problem is,
nothing to do, the Coen bros tol' you

and if truth were told, living words told you.

Mental exchange graces many breaths, deep
taken with intention, to think, commas, work

That was in the era after the atom bomb,
and before the repulsion from Dianetics, umph,
Voltaire's secret, written invitation to converse
with him, in his or any Wikipeadian tongue,
his conditions were my agility to define,
my own terms, peaceable,
for good reason
infection, will
to define my terms, wish
to have this magical mechanism
to hold this thought, and link
on that phrase,
to make a novel, a new

way
to arrive where life leads, when followed.
There has never been a press this free on the inside, public poetic pools of provacative creative vacancy where no war's reasons balance, ever...
Semihten5 Jun 2017
property poem
planet's path
pointy plan
proper phantasy
is embracing the gifts from mother nature
the fresh smell of rain clearing my mind
the whispering wind singing me to sleep
the growling thunderstorm giving my soul new strength
the moon and the stars brightening my way through the night
the snow dancing around me and making the winter even more beautiful
the deep woods making me feel secure
the wonderful bond between an animal and me

is being proud of who I am
my phantasy making any grey day colourful
my mind showing me my happiest memories when I am feeling down
my body helping me to discover this beautiful world

is being with my friends
they accept who I really am
they support all my crazy ideas
they make me feel home wherever I am

is reading a captivating book
to leave all my thoughts and anger behind
to laugh and cry with the characters
to marvel at the wonders of a strange world
to stroll through the streets of a magic city or an enchanted forest

is being with you
you make my sorrows go away
you give me warmth in the cold
you bring light into my darkness
you make my heart smile
you unravel me and show me the best of myself

is being grateful for what we have.
Bijoylakshmi Das Dec 2019
THE DISTANT DREAM
The Earth is a wonderland
A Privy to underworld dream,
Will you dare to scale the heights
To reach the Invisible Realm?

Scares you in dark the scribbles unread
Words on its sheen,
Lustre-clad lies deep
The hidden miracle's mystery within.

Do you long to fly to its azure sky
Spangled around with divine hues,
Day shines bright with the Sun at its helm
Night sparkles with splendorous dews.

The wind wraps the soft sweet murmur
Of the distant mountain stream,
O Man! Be not lost in your stupor
Awaken to its oracular visionary dream.

The indwelling Deity lies unworshipped
In the inmost heart's sacred Shrine,
You have fallen prey to the senses
Of the most tenebrous beastly kind.

The Playact ever goes on around you
Nature plays the magic wand,
Your Soul is given as ransom
To treasures of the fictitious merryland.

The maiden's beauty maddens you
The allurements of her enticing lips,
Your freedom of choice is at stake,
You are Antony in ******* of Cleopatra's kiss.

You are playtool in the hands of the Supreme
Swing to and fro in anguish and ecstasy,
For you know not how to stay uninvolved
Not to get merged into mind-rapt phantasy.

Your body is made of flesh, bone and blood
But you are the Spirit blithe and free,
If only you could make the Tryst with Supreme Soul
In His celestial spree.

You are tiny blossoms in His vernal garden
Open up petals to spread fragrance,
Life on Earth is a sacrifice perpetual
You are only witness to His Mystic Dance.

The Real seems to be far away from you
But He sits silent in your self deep within,
But you dream of Paradise in the vacant naught
Things transient are your only cherished dream.

Go not wild in the life's welter
Seek for the Bliss incarnate thou art,
You are not born to mingle into the mundane mud
Your human goal is to reach the Omnipotent.

You are pure, immaculate, the magnificent Soul,
Dream no more the earthly mire
Make dreamless Infinity, the Vast your goal.
(Bijoylakshmi Das, Anand Utsav Ashram, Haridwar. 27th June 2019)
Mummele Oct 2018
I was never good at being
I never was
Never have been
Am not
And probably never will be

I took a deep breath the other day
I think I caught somebody see me do it
They didn’t smile
But neither did they cry

If i really existed I would tell you i love you
I would tell you time tickles my feet
I look at you a lot, I try to breathe you
You are real thus I don’t need to be

I can be a broken thought’s saddest phantasy
I can be that
Probably am
I’d be that if only I get to be

— The End —