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mike dm Dec 2015
these long lines of me
have begun to curl
and split
along small vulnerable points
-separating-
till i stand blank as bone

.. but then you too peel away your palimpsest

new page
new tone
driven by us

a place where my alone is not read into
where your sidelong gaze allows for this core ruin of mine
to be unknown and unknowable

scribbled sick blue skies
gray clouds somersault and lick
eater of hue
it cannot be deleted it cannot be scried  

this is the waste we do not wait around for to be fixed
it is a space where margins are let in

as is

and i no longer feel written down
dm micklow
sage silcross Oct 2019
i stitch myself back together

with strands plucked from conscience

glistening points drawn out into gossamer

you come to me in comets

bringing the dawn to an astronomer

scried in seams of aether
- spellthief
Adam Burke Jun 2014
A girl has bright eyes, smooth thighs and a perky disguise.
She's been shy and never made much of a try but no word of a lie she loved a man long before she was of age to die.

A girl had long hair with tints of blue.
She wore a dress a man couldn't nearly see through but a man needed no clue as to what lay under the zip he desired so badly to undo.

A man was nothing special.
He in no way had it all.
Dark hair and he stood six feet tall but when it came to a girl he would repeatedly stall.
Never sure what to say should he pluck up the courage and call.

A girl knew she was under the view of a man.
It wasn't entirely new but this strange sensation grew as if she just now felt it too.
Not sure what to do when a man leaned in she withdrew.

A girl began to cry upon the sight of his failed try.
In the midst of confusion a solution arrived when she spied the edge of a knife and a vein which so diligently pumped her life.

A man kissed a girl in a Christmas ball, drunk as high hell and stumbling though he didn't fall.
She whispered "I love you too" only half way through removing her shoe when a man lifted her against the wall, too eager to merely watch the remainder of the clothing removal.

A girl was surprised by a man's advance.
She often scried a  future in which a knot had been tied.
A man treated her as a precious doll, protecting her from the demon's who'd call.
A girl enjoyed this time and began to find she could unwind, however, the knife and a vision of a man's advance kept clinging to her mind.

Only a few weeks later a man lies with a girl.
A girl begins to cry.
A man apologises.
A man and a girl remain together.
A man loves a girl.
A girl loves a man.
And a girl is suicidally sad.
Ken Pepiton Aug 31
Certain persons among us make claims to knowledge
kept from any who cannot imagine that truth,
we, the every day curious kinds of people,
skeptic
become habitually drawn to knowers claiming right
to tell us one may see what one believes, nought else.

Living words, in message form, why must I see angels?
Whose mind may we leave be in us, if not this one,
alive in constant readiness to give a word umph,

past last clear preconception of a call to pay attention,
today, while it remains time out to redeem in meditation,

be tween one mind's aura and another's… imagining
we see light reflected from sources undetected,
so dark sayings illuminate our directed steps,
or we so say, for we believe we know, now,

is when today occurs, and when the code is broken,
hidden meaning sought with Frankl and Anne Frank,
and dramatic reenactments of battles that inspire
judgment, know who won by who continues being,
any with a will to prove a worth, as a gift in minded
heart felt will to say
we may pay more attention
than we are willing to take.

Easily, given meaningful words… these are the medium,
this is the way we conjoin minds in hives intending
to fill to overflowing, so long as flowers need ***.

==========
Cultured pearls.

Irritatingly apparently real
as any brought to become
by merest of coincidental

rare afflictions with beauty
the initial aim, with hands
put to guiding use, knowing

the growing of the nacre
in total absence of sunlight,
of course, we can't know why.

--------

Words authored in ages past,
during times of congregation,

calling all sundry formations
from noise to align as defined

with hands commands, come
and see the other side of all and
more besides, piling mountains
as clouds in late summer, promise
latter rains on latterly sown seed.

The interpretation of this situation,
now, and not another time, here,
where your mind asks mine explain,

lay it out, tell the whole of knowing
now is when we become our self,
first formed from stories told us,

as true, to assume in storyland,
we can talk with Nature as an entity
who uses words as you would, should
you awaken in a jungle denser,

made afraid for the moment, mind
time pause, now, we think, how say
the sages past, must we treat
with care for fear of proud wrath,

encultured hero worth, a weight
in the bag we measure worth with,

each kernal of barley corn, one third
the inch, which is never taken
for a mile, given will to stretch
the wonder of learning for ever's sake,

indeed, to take each one in a myriad
of steps while helping an officer
of the law of Rome, obey it,
by keeping the peace and pace.

So, long from now, these same words
may live on loosely linked orders
of natural progression as we learn,

stories told as true as plausible,
often include impossibly fortuitous
interference in this clouded realm
of certain reasons asking rational

division of soul and spirit, despite
the rule of Rome, in year 869
of this present domineering age,
whereby soul is spirit and vice versa.

Rightly divided now, by me, today,
boldly going, where some crazies
came before me, to make me pay
attention to the will called why.

Jesus, really? Must we accept
the testimony of mystics, as more
than guessing based
on earlier guesses, up from exstacy,
beyond the first guesses given theory,
suppose, we all pretend to know,
as we are reared to become
those who teach to those so lost,
that only our knowing known stories,
can redeem their worth to truth itself.

----------
Listen, let this mindform in you, think.

In creation mode of mind,
given words for anything named
in the world wide web of knowledge,

arranged in searchible stacks, related,
tied religiously to certainty beyond Delphi,

we trust, as we trusted kings, when few
could gainsay prophecy interpreted true,
after the epoch last ended began, in truth,

measure for measure, an inch is always
three barley corns wide, no more
nor less a length, may be taken for a mile,

as we rethink the idea, charity, feeding needs,
agape, we say means charity, highest form
of love one may bestow, at no cost, true,

charity for which we pay is not the same idea.

I come to offer thought through thoroughly
sieved shards of crystaline ***** scried into,
see, there, that occlusion? that is what you

can never know, until the guru says you do.

--------------
Yes, I do recall verses written,
before exposure to naked truth
that war's glory is as the emperor's
lastest fashions, lasterly erroneously

crowning a child's sense of silliness,
when I was a child, I thought, and still
think many thoughts, what to write,
what to let slip away,
what must be folded to put away,
later, imagining I ask your eyes to see,
leaving no description light might show
either real or made up on purpose to make

believable the reason children are exposed,
to Grimm collections of secular wisdom,
unholy impossible animations, yet,

by the time, I got to Phoenix, I was knowing
days depend from days past, pendulating,
swinging arcing swipes past all pretensions,

loose the bonds of wickedness, comb
the tangled locks of dreads,
Rastaferian dread, wisdom
claimed aligned with wonder weedlike
in trembling fear of hell to pay,
what if we make believe, we two, and you,
we come to here, along these lines, thinking

why is not a factor after all is said and done,
plain and smooth, polished to high sheen,

wedoms welcome any with means to make sense,
share our dreads, show us what it is you think
you know, about the ways truth, per se, makes
where no ways was,
moments earlier, pasts past, perhaps,
happening in all that happens, once mayhap

to you,
aha,
I see, you say, lying with your eyes, but knowing
I can imagine common sense, comfort, ease,
true rest in care akin to told of care in story,

we gather to remind our hive, here we make honey.


------------
Watch the dancing bees, rethink
how few persons on earth can think
there is no mind involved in thinking that,

planning means to become superfluous,
dripping sweet memories, in precious
pricey processes of transubstantiation,

sweet, we say, at a fine fix on the flaw,
we all lie, see, we say we know, we lie,

we lieve being true, as good and useful,
the ology of everything pundits preach,
and teach that we may obey, knowing,

no lie forms from truth's first will to tell,
taste and see,
swallow, and wait… at antepartum,
all we think to ask turns bitter in the belly.
Ok.
Max Neumann Jun 9
Endless
Yesterday finished in silence
Tomorrow's gonna be scried
Sheltered

Smirk of a sick child
Pawning
On the hunt for fame

Hobbling dog
Sick child

Endless
Endless

— The End —