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Jen Oct 2018
Yes,
This is real
Right now,
Or is it?
Still
Don't know,
No?
Is it all
Really "Relative?"

Is what
We see,
Merely small pieces
Of waves, Of frequencies...
Chosen by
The system...

To trust it,
Doubt it;
Or, none
Of the above.

It's my radio,
It's yours too...
It belongs to everyone?

We all see
Through
A different lens.

His is winter
As he paints snow-
Theirs is different
Since surviving
The war; Different
Each day.
Hers right now,
Is magical
As the wind blows
And colors
Impose
On her fate
Unknown.

Stations
Changing
Constantly,
In these
Realities.

In my head,
Yours,
It is all in
Our heads.
Advent Oct 2014
coffees are my one-way ticket to contemplation–
to realizations and dramas
it shapes my eyes
to view life like a panorama

coffee makes me think
about the world,
the people
and both combined

coffee connects me to the crowd
to their lives,
mishaps
sometimes shared with mine

coffee gates to different events and realities
it awakens wishful thinking
and kicks curiosities

coffee, summed up
is a friend
of all those who've got their heads in their *****

it is a guru of life
love,
and other life experiences


                                                   ­       a.t.
Kristina Weeks Jul 2018
Why are you so familiar
The way you look so iconic
You’re the gin in my tonic
The reverie is chronic

Have we met before now
In some distant place
I know I’ve seen your face
Old memories you replace

Perhaps we knew before
Each other in another life
Not this one we’re in now
Other realities; Our story rife

Maybe in one we met young
We went to the same school
I was too scared to talk to you
You were probably too cool

I watched you from afar
Saw you grow and mature
You married her and never saw me
That is one I’m sure

Maybe in one I wasn’t scared of you
I faced my fear; We talked
You decided to give me the time of day
And on the beach we walked

We dated for a while then
But one day it was too much
I pushed you away you disappeared
Some stories go as such

Maybe in one our time was brief
A few moments maybe more
Minutes or possibly seconds then
The short ones I abhor

I was down and depressed that day
I was looking for a friend
I saw you then you frowned at me
My life I decided to end

Maybe in one we’re fictional
Characters in a book
We existed only as words on a page
That story I would look

I was a princess and you a knight
You rescued me from a tower
A dragon you slayed you were so brave
With your golden sword of power

Maybe there’s a happy one
My favorite one at best
The one with the happy ending
In this one we were blessed

We stayed together, got married then
Some kids to college we would send
With each other we grew old
We closed our eyes; Our story ends

Ramblings of an imaginative girl
It could all just be thought
But just in case I could be right
My many lives, you’ve meant a lot

Each one just as important
No matter how short or long
In each one you’ve played a part
Your contribution never wrong

So now we’re here in this life
Talking in your bed and going to shows
When this one ends our souls restart
Infinite loop of which no one knows

It’s comforting to think about
How my spirit will follow true
In life and in death we’ll find each other
I’ll forever love you
Comforting thoughts of eternal love.
Sophie Jun 8
I live in small realities
I built inside my head
That keep me up at night
when I'm laying in my bed

These small, little realities
mean the world to me
'cause they make so much better
Than the world could ever be

And I know that in my small realities
Tucked inside my head
Everythings a place
that I would rather be instead
Shorter version of my longer poem.
Ron Gavalik Mar 11
Inside the café, a cute artist
with blackened fingertips
sketched in her notebook.
A handsome boy took the next table
and waited patiently for a chat.
Sketching with a fervor,
oblivious to her surroundings,
that artist and I shared a truth.
Imagination is often preferable
to the daily realities
****** upon us.

–Ron Gavalik
sian Feb 17
I am wandering around aimlessly
Feeling like a failure, disappointment
So easily hurt by the realities of the world
With so much pain and suffering
Is it normal to be happy?
I am the paradigm of a girl who looks like she has everything, but feels she has nothing
Third Eye Candy Apr 2013
Gemini in seasonable  evening,
serenely swirling in Septemberous
ferris wheels
reeling in the vast domain
of lonesome leviathans
and witch-fires;
nowhere bound in the boundless fecundity
[ the feral joys of creation... ]
twins
meander in gravity's
well of souls,
swollen with unknowns and proteins;
golden rods in pointless foam
brewing the elixir vitae
in the Dippers cup. the Milky Way,
a wayward gush
from an ancient Mother Goddess,
plump and shameless, pumping teats
to nurse worlds
infused with divine rays of gamma and x...
why set dark apart
from firmament burning
spheres?

dragons
must clutch eggs in the void
as much
as fork tongue white dwarfs.
of course, the Source
unfolds
as  Love does. it's purpose,
in thrall of fearless veracity,
spinning yarns for glad garments
to clothe the naked dread
of such fearful symmetries
as roam the wild delights
of the infinite
meringue.

the Pi
on the window sill,
tempting the circular frame of reference
to square with the sublime Will.
another Fibonacci in your
bedpost,
to better hobnob with
broomsticks.
everything annihilates hatred.
from within,
we sojourn to sovereign super-continents
of opulent peace.
profound realities surge serpentine
with Meaning.
we are outdone on the inside by small minds
and farcical
hearts.

so at night
look up.

Love's Tongue Is
Love's
Word.
Steven Cole Aug 2018
If I could be a better man
I'd have enough insight
To always come up with a plan
In times of trouble, danger, or distress
I'd keep my emotions under control
And never run out of rational sense
No circumstances would ever drown me
Or rise above my head
Because I'd know how to swim the currents
And land on solid ground instead


If I could be a better man
I'd have the courage to follow through
With every noble goal I set
And every appeal to selflessness
I am tempted to forget
There'd never be a task
I couldn't undertake
Even if it meant
My life was at stake
Money and time
Would never grow on me
But I'd give of these objects endlessly
And at the end of the day
I'd still know how
To be completely and utterly free


If I could be a better man
I'd never fear the entity of change
But embrace this shrewd reality
Unhindered by its pace
I'd keep a face like solid flint
When revolution
Threatened to derange
At will I'd change my emotions
To better fit each phase
Each chapter of life
From page to page
I'd wire my brain to electrically flow
Smoothly and flawlessly
Everywhere I'd go


If I could be a better man
I'd always be a man of my word
Letting my actions always
Positively confirm the things you heard
I'd mean every syllable I spoke to you
With fiery convictions I knew to be true
I'd always know how to communicate
And wouldn't let grievous words
Separate
Relationships so vital and true
The stuff we're made for
And shouldn't undo


If I could be a better man
I'd never struggle with uncertainty
But always know what choice to make
No matter the options that lay before me
I'd never have to second guess
Overthink, obsess or stress
The presented realities and decisions of life
A special wisdom I'd possess
A knowing in my gut and heart
Of all that is my destiny
And all the steps I would have to take
To get to where I want to be
How each occurrence
And aspect of life
Fitted this picture
I'd also see

If I could be a better man
I'd be a fountain of virtues flowing
Ever going
Like a rumbling and roaring
and rushing waterfall
Dazzlingly Tall

Wisdom

    Prudence

   Diligence

  Patience

Courage

  And Emotional Intelligence

     Faithfulness

   Rectitude

  Purity

  Relentless tenacity

    Fortitude

      And overall confidence

                                            With surety


If I could be the perfect man
There'd be one thing I'd always know how to do
And that is, my friend, in all sincerity
Faithfully loving you


But since I know
I am far from perfect
I will do the best I can
And though I fail now and then
I will get back up
And stand
I will seek forgiveness
Down on my knees
Ask God for Grace
And Mercy please
My weaknesses I'll count as blessings
And thank God I don't have to be
The Savior of the world
Superman
Who for comfort, has no need
Tammy M Darby Jan 2015
From sleeps sweet embrace
To become realities eyes
Clouded with a dark imagination
Set forth in a torturous rhyme

Insanity my love
Premeditated thoughts undisclosed
Insanity my love
Revealed the prophecy
Attired in woe

Each long night when dreams turned to sand
The delicate soul lay bathed in tears
Doing battle protected by the amour of loyalty
Overcoming the conquests of fear

Nightmares emerged from sleeps sweet embrace
Memories became realities stark face.
Morning comes and ends the assault
A peace that is gained
At a terrible cost.


This poem is copyrighted and stored in author base. All material subject to Copyright Infringement laws
Section 512(c)(3) of the U.S. Copyright
Act, 17 U.S.C. S512(c)(3), Tammy M. Darby Jan.7,  2015
I'm closing my eyes deep In thought drifting slowly
remembering I can see snow on the ground I'm In a park
all the trees bare of leaves they look almost like ghostly figures hiding In the shadows waiting to pounce
I approach a Park bench I'm not afraid because there Is a hand In mine It's that of that wife to be Helen her name so sweet she Is so full life sitting down beside
me I'm looking at her pretty face It's bitterly cold but neither of us feels It we have youth on our
side
Helen Is dressed In this lovely two-piece green suit white blouse white stockings and beautiful black shoes so petite almost like a china
doll
I'm sitting there can't take me off her but no way was I going to let this girl slip away I'd made up my there then she would become my wife
Helen was so beautiful to me as I finally her walked home we stood at Helen garden gate I looked In those beautiful blue eyes
I could hear my voice In
my head It said you don't know It yet Helen but I'm going to marry
you
shortly after that I did so proud of her I was she gifted me a son even though my poor girl passed away our son stayed with me he's just like his
Mother
I love him so much I'm reluctantly opening my eyes now my short time away from reality was so good while It lasted so beautiful Helen was to
me
Helen In her beautiful green two piece suit white blouse and white stockings black shoes she look like a China
Doll so petite Helen was so beautiful to me
Nicholas Mar 15
Universal entropy,
masking it’s plan

Perceivable good and
evil, much more than so

A light waiting to be shone
beyond which we can ever comprehend

Camouflaged, patient;
wickedness one day proving itself
God’s rippling gift

And yet, the present seems bleak,
The great unknown rests
behind a curtain,
even to you

Keeping us suspended
above countless destinies below,
those realities flickering like traffic from
a private city rooftop

Our actions,
for an audience we are unaware exist
So not for naught,
do indulgences befall

Some good can come of our mistakes,
even if it's to faces we'll never know
An attempt to explore the implications of the butterfly effect and how our actions as individual, no matter how seemingly random or potentially evil they may be, may inadvertently impact people we'll never meet in some positive way.
Johnny walker Nov 2018
I feel like a wolf In
the wild, that lost It
mate In the middle
winter

That has to fend for
It's self alone In harsh
realities of life, closing
It's territory

A lone wolf that as now
to walk this Earth
abandoned, In the middle
of the winter snow, now
alone afraid
Lost and abandoned In the middle of winter
Adilson Smith Apr 2017
I adulate the extraordinary.
Catastrophe
And ill-repute
Are my prime fantasies.

All it takes is ambivalence
In an innocent sentence,
And I’m instantly different:

Smarting with grief in imagined realities
Of collective derision,
And public shame.
Kanishka May 12
There's always more to it than meets the eye.
Two flowers behind the fence house a million stories,
Insurmountable for all to tell by.
For some it's just two unnoticible flowers,
For some it's the cradle of spring,
For some it's imagery of prison,
For some it's lovers in their haven,
For some it's forbidden opportunities,
For some it's consequence of a strife,
For some it's an offering to a loved one,
For some it's just the cycle of life.
KNOWER Nov 2014
We're all just a massive mess of energy
A beautiful, massive mess
And that's just the brilliance of it!

Times and times retold of our divinity,
Of our ancestors painted by the stars,
Of glory untold
And oh the glory!
That you may see it
Or even hear the echoes of its glorious memory resound across the heavens
And the loftiest of them all being our mind
Singular, not plural
For we have but the same mind
That we are moved by the same passions
That we are subtly subject to change
Oh, our malleable souls!

That we aspire for the Heavens
So we may get to soar freely
And yet dance to tunes of a heathen kind
Such is the hypocrisy that we've been raised to uphold as daily norm
None being the lesser!

For had it not been so, then with God you'd be this very moment
As Master, nature springing to your tunes
That you'll master all as Did SoloMon
Tense just being one of our many creations

So through this wake up call,
I beg all of you to arise from your deep slumbers
Your virtual realities whose bounds you artfully set with decided deliberation upon your mind
Wake up and see that you are infinite!
Wake up and see that you are divine!
Wake up and see that you are gods!
Mollie Nov 2018
burdened by the intense understanding of their anatomy,
their mortality
the human condition was to often forget how to live, for they always knew they would die.
from the tissues of the brain,
cerebellum,
to the arteries within their hearts,
opening
closing.
like psychics hovering over crystal *****,
humans saw themselves decay
and their world decay
with the pollution and destruction
they saw the effects of their reality forced upon those not aware enough to have a choice
how could they know that the creation of time would allow them to track every second
of grief,
every moment of pain.
time became an instrument of torture.
the days and the nights,
alone. the clock ticks,
tocks, two seconds.
two more seconds alone.
the compilation of pixels on a screen which
promotes entertainment
opened them up to the realities of the world
and children screamed
and choked
tear gas burned their eyes.
desensitised to violence,
they lied to them, their children...

why?
Not perfect, but this was my stream of consciousness upon hearing the news the other morning.
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