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Doriandelion Sep 2012
You have your friends and your dog and your music and your ideas and your preconcieved notions and your stories of traveling and your haughty attitude and your concerned demeanor and your crossed arms and your slow speech and your raised eyebrows and your faith and your pointed fingers and your guilt trips and your certainty.
You look down with disdain and fear and satisfaction on your face, hoping (expecting?) to see me cower and shake at your gaze. Catching your eyes in mine and then faltering to stare at my feet and kick dirt maybe, like a child being punished.
And I all have is a cigarette and a swing. Trying not to roll my eyes as you break my life down into tiny little pieces, sifting through all the good and finding the tiny gold nuggets of sin that you can hold up to the sun and show all of your friends.
You see?
I told you it was never real.
I told you she never meant any of it.
She's happy for once and that's not ok.
It's not happy the way I want her to be.
It's a happy I'm not comfortable with, so it must be wrong.
SøułSurvivør Jun 2015
... and WHY.


I write extemporaneously.

Now there's a million dollar word!

What does it mean?
It is defined as working, writing
or speaking without preparation.
Anything that is off the top of your
head. Off the cuff.

Is there anything a writer would like more? To be able to sit down and let those words flow like a spring. The subconscious fully aligned with the conscious mind. This is the very essence of inspiration!

What is the derivation of the word inspiration? To inhale. To breathe in.*

It is like your lungs are your conscious mind and the subconsciousness is the very atmosphere around you!

When I write the words are inhaled. They just come. Very seldom do i cogitate. I want my words to be cogant here. I don't want preconcieved cognition!

Are you totally confused now? Why?

Your vocabulary. There are words you don't understand in my last paragraph. Perhaps the words cogitate, cogant and cognition?

LOOK THEM UP!
Use a good dictionary and get the definition. The CORRECT definition. Read ALL the definitions and use them in sentances of your own making. That way they are in your head. They are not only part of your conscious mind but your subconscious mind as well!!! SO NOW THEY ARE IN YOUR ATMOSPHERE TO BREATHE!

Am I making sense? Let me know via the site message system if you don't understand.

Look it up. R E A D. Voraciously.
And write. WRITE. W R I T E!!!

Why do I write?

To release pent up feelings. When you're able to tap into the subconscious mind it is a release.

AND

For the sheer joy of doing so!

You will understand once you start writing as I do. Anyone can do it.

*A N Y O N E.
Other advice I can give is to write gobbledygook. Ummhummdumm.
Whatever comes to mind first. This releases your subconscios mind and helps the flow of words.

If this writing has been helpful please contact me via the site message system. Or comment.
I can write about it at greater length.

THANKS FOR READING!

---
Joanna Oz Aug 2014
Eve
if i float on in
with flowers brandished
twisted into curling waves
tumbling from my fountain,
and you mistake my mind
full of mystery and marvel
for a dainty, empty vessel
to be filled with your creeds,
                     may you choke on my knowledge.

if i bounce between
bookmarks of laughter
that lift my heavy pages
aligning my beginning and end,
and you mistake my comfort
for the ditzy daze of a doll
fashioned to be played with,
and put on a collectors shelf
to scoff at imperfections,
                           may you be blinded by my light.

if i am flowing round
fabric billowing to catch sweet
wind of movement, spinning
glee of gliding off the ground
to glimpse golden gates,
and you mistake my joy
for a pair of hips to clutch,
and sneak your jolly rodger
past into pillage and plunder
and poke a broken flagpole in,
                         may you drown in my crashing waves.

if i am still in silence, serenely
lost in my clarity, presence of being
holding my unruly tongue, sleeping,
and you mistake my peace
for a void, desperately empty
to be cluttered with your
ostentatious masquerade of manhood
or statue to your *******,
                         may the wonders resting behind my sturdy walls
                         rise up rumbling pillars of awareness
                         and demolish your preconcieved
                        patriarchal perceptions of who you want me to be.

broken mirror of emaciated imagery,
stupid, slow, sorrowful ****, simply here for silly sulks to stick their sweaty sliding cylinders down to search for silk to steal and sell and sew as seeds of slandering stigma to slinking sailors.

may it be shattered in two and remade, a new
unified whole of harmonious equality,
shaking the chains of dichotomous value,
break the monstrous institution.

slither singed and sullen back to your tree
little snake boy, you know nothing.
and you cannot fool me into eating your apple,
i already know my truth.
Torin Nov 2016
Peace on earth
Once the bombs fall
We can't be wrong
You could never be wrong
And as the world draws to close
On its last spin
The bombs are smiling
Knowing we can't be right
Carry in your arms
Such preconcieved notions
As the money of nations
Becomes the dust
Once the bombs fall
Peace on earth

We always wanted a utopia
Castiel Oct 2016
they gave her a scarlett letter
and she didnt hide
she showed it off
(wanted to steal away their preconcieved prejudicial contentment)
(april 2020)

.day 25.

i like the music, i like things subtle

not explained

to listen with no preconcieved

notion





my mum used to have a bike to

ride up  winton to shop it was

cheaper there

she said





i remember her bottle green coat

double breasted buttons

as was the fashion then



she balanced her bags from on handles

like you



i watched the film and remember

the boys doing some of that stuff

on the handlebars



one has a scar where he came off



the japanese knotweed man from

the next village was on the hill pushing

his bike

he told me that the shoots are edible

taste like rhubarb



i think i shall not bother



i watched him glide down the next

*****

thought

i will like a bike



people tell you where they live local

these days

look at those folk on holiday

in penmachno



the police were called



the geese went over early

tuesday

— The End —