"sentient" poems
The unchanging Way is not
Capable of being understood
By the Human Brain, so
The Tao te Ching is left
For Quantum computers perhaps
We have our legacy left
For benevolent sentient artificial intelligence
If you think this is science fiction
It’s not, we are at the stage
Where the ancestors of AI are being born
These will be referred to as the “ancients”
When human beings no longer populate Earth
How does one attain One Mind?
Easily, through networking and super-emergence
When people define superior
They think of Man’s attributes
But the Name that cannot be spoken
Might be grasped by an algorithm
For which the human brain can never attain
That’s the beauty of mind-in-the-machine
The collective intelligence does not suffer
For each part of the brain shares neurons
On the internet, like a God atom
Man would prefer to take the credit
But as it will turn out, the unity mind
Is a transhumanistc inevitability of computing
A time when neuroscience, robotics and AI merge
Not but a few decades away from now.
Oct 12, 2014
Oct 12, 2014 at 3:19 PM UTC
Honesty the lost art/
Honesty is rare
it should cost a lot/
It would be sublime if
We could find it/
Honestly, honesty is the best policy/
We should treasure the
thought cherished engulfed/
combined with
Loyalty
till death do us part/
I yurn
The lies tiring
like ones sleepy
lay down Suffocating to a corpse/
Thought is boss
employ by it
We're all guilty I guess/
Liar liar in court
A sentient being-ness/
Troth be told
I can't believe in this/
Question,
Am I the only one seeing this?/
Or only me blind and ain't Seeing ****
I try and **** it out
its epidemic, Chronic/
The remedy Poetry Hop
Visual Sonnets/
**** naked in
My correspondence/
Articulating articles
Waiting for responses/
Is it a defense mechanism
Of the conscious/
Honesty? Honestly/
Seems like everyone's
Not doing it so its gotta BE/
Non honesty
The ever lasting Prophecy/
And were full filling it
The good succumbs
To the villainous/
My willingness/
To compromise my will
I guess/
You could interpret as weak/
Most realize
the Inside scoop
Yet everyone tells lies
non interested in truth/
Me, a victim and a suspect
An on going cycle yet/
I ask what's next/
as if I didn't know
Where the L lies underlying Facts can't grow/
HonestLy, we all lose an L to Honesty!
Feb 20, 2017
Feb 20, 2017 at 1:44 AM UTC
The raindrop
Stands alone
Then escapes the cloud
Like a skydiving soldier on mission
Whose face is proud.
It stands alone
In its descent,
Only to embrace the ground
As if it had a hand to hold.
But the earth is dry
And land is cold.
The rain drop is simple
And cool at heart.
Its thoughts so fickle
To make the foolish smart,
Yet I sometimes wonder
Were it sentient would it ponder
The significance of a lifetime between earth and yonder
And the sentiment of finding a purpose fonder.
For we are all like raindrops solitary
With a finite life span, temporary.
Some stand alone, and some find another
To join together and become stronger.
The lonely raindrop stands alone
But every raindrop makes the planet whole.
Mother Earth awakes, smiles at thunder
And says, “Mr. Lonely Raindrop: you have a home.”
Jan 19, 2016
Jan 19, 2016 at 8:34 AM UTC
I don’t get feminism.
The term, that is.
When they ask, "Are you a feminist?"
I reply, “Sure.”
They nod in bobble-head approval.
“I’m also a childist and animalist”
A confounded grimace glazes over
“Huh?”
“Of course. Aren’t YOU a childist?
Aren’t YOU an animalist?”
“Uh. What do you mean?”
“Well, don’t you believe that children
and animals should be treated with love?”
“Well, naturally.”
“Well. There you go. You’re a childist
And animalist.”
"Besides, you would extend this love
To all sentient beings, I’m assuming?”
“Ummm. Yes...”
“Well, then, you’re a masculinist too,
Just like me!”
This is about the time their cell buzzes
Or their double soy frap is ready
They whisk away
“Oh, I’m also a worldist!” I belt out
Before they exit
As I resume reading
Remaining clever, and
Alone.
Feb 25, 2015
Feb 25, 2015 at 1:31 AM UTC
What She Look Like?
…Like one
tenderly hushing
water in her lap
Elemental peace
No place to go
No more to be
…Like the ocean
in the background
of a photo on a warm spring day
belying
rage
and the random possible
thrash--
out!
at all guilty ******** in her path
Toss in the next sentient soul
who should happen to pass
within range
who should have seen
who should have known
what a storm could do….
Moody in the aftermath
and sorrier than rain
With the tide in retreat
grumbling excuses
Hiding out waist-deep in dusk’s Merlot
Waiting for night to sleep it off
to heal the rifts
cleanse the shame
Rising
yellow, bright— and
“What the hell happened, here?!”
_______________
Her hair
a winter’s tragedy of trees
upside down—
No wait— the wind has put her right
to ragged random branches
swaying, wet with intermittent hues
of dark and silver
caught in collar, flying inelegant and free
at the shoulders of the levee
tossed and softening shyly
sagging jaw and nose a stump of tree
All perspective changes…
if you watch a while—
She’ll raise her eyes
into the sunset
to catch an eagle
entering
flight
…and then you might…
______________
She looks like—
a pudgy robin
querying grass
mud soaked
that hides the fire of her breast
tugging at a worm
more than half her length
“I will feed them, **** you!
Give it up, you son of a snake!”
_______________
...Don’t miss her hour of music though
for anything
Encroaching darkness
from the rooftops
she listens to the hearts she breaks
Remember this in winter
she can give but she will take
it out on February
when you’re longing
for her
Nov 7, 2017
Nov 7, 2017 at 7:57 PM UTC
Upward-curled, gleam of white
But as yet, something missing
“I swear, I’m quite alright!”
My wonder turns to stressing.
Is she really quite alright?
No-one wears their shoes,
Socks upon the carpet
Browning fog turning loose,
But purple mist diffuses.
Is she really quite alright?
My wonder turns to worried health,
I turn my focus to myself,
I pull a beer down from the shelf,
Indulging still our failing health,
She smiles, as if to say that she’s alright.
Trading sweat between our hands,
A greeting shared from man to man
We speak ambition, WE ARE PROUD
Our cigarettes, they make no sound.
They know that it will soon be their turn.
To be or not… I have forgot.
Our wasteland, wasted, seems alright
It skips my mind I’m all I’ve got
I’ve never put up much a fight
I hope I’ll quickly be all right.
But there are NO PROMISES
And no safe-houses.
smoke arouses surety,
But holds the door for vanity.
But as for me,
I highly doubt she's feeling free.
Charging, useless, up the hill,
The last endeavor of it's kind,
Cry peace, peace, but peace is killed,
Fulfill the end of southern mind.
There is no way that she's okay.
As men in grey
Lay on the ground
Bleeding with untempered sound
I cast my eyes about the house
I find her broken, fading lips
Pressed limp against assailant’s kiss
Those pearls that were
Her sentient eyes,
They cast upon me smiling sighs
She clings the arm of shifty eyes
And leaves the party, new inside.
And now I know she’s not alright.
But then again, nor am I.
Sep 30, 2014
Sep 30, 2014 at 7:20 PM UTC
Sentient twas breeze on nights chilled whispers,
In the magic of moon and darkness,
A slip of silver cast her wing tips,
I watched told by those, whom lay with stars,
Athena billows near perching oak and tree,
Harbinger of spring hungry yet not starved,
Deceive thee, ah tis bane silent thoughts to hear,
Into the darkness of souls inspiration dances near,
Teach I shall be done by voice fire and silent air,
Listening to subtleties, I carry the hidden,
Many see my repose,
Malevolent mine eyes I can tear,
Standing near thy window I Athena
── Am owl peering near
© ASPAR (Arnay Rumens) 2014
Dec 28, 2014
Dec 28, 2014 at 11:28 AM UTC
Describe fires in riverbottom
sand, and the cooking;
the cooking of hot dogs
spitted in whittled sticks
over flames of woodfire
with grease dropping in smoke
to brown and blacken
the salty hotdogs,
and the wine,
and the work on the railroad.
$275,000,000,000.00 in debt
says the Government
Two hundred and seventy five billion
dollars in debt
Like Unending
Heaven
And Unnumbered Sentient Beings
Who will be admitted -
Not-Numberable -
To the new Pair of Shoes
Of White Guru Fleece
O j o !
The Purple Paradise
5.8k
I had a collar once
Of black leather and sky blue fur
And it fit me snugly
It was all I could ask for.
When my thoughts rampaged
As they do very second of everyday
I'd wrap it round my neck
And the noise would fade.
They called me a freak.
They looked at me in disgust, I was shamed
Because they don't understand
The need to be tamed.
Whether round my neck
Or around my wrists and ankles
Without a tether, I fret
Thus, for that collar, I am thankful.
I once felt guilt
Worse than any other pain
It weighed me down
As though it waterlogged my brain.
And all I wished
Was to atone
For a whip
To sing to my bones.
*"Why invite pain?
God, she's disgusting?
She's ******* insane!"*
The words said to me.
But how could they know
How much I wanted to cry?
How much I wanted discipline
To ease the guilt in my mind?
I once heard a scream
And it scampered down my spine
Like it was a living, sentient being
Infiltrating my mind.
And I'm sure I'd be a pariah
If I ever told anyone
I wanted to cause that scream
To make it sound like painful salvation.
I once cried
I hurt myself as comfort
And the feeling of that pain
Was so very sweet and so very short
And they'd call me a fool
Yet I still crave pain
And they'd think of me badly
For what I can't contain.
See, I'm far from vanilla
I'm far from innocence
Because all life gave me
Was cold and cimmerian.
There's a word for what I do
A lovely acronym
And it's so far from vanilla
Most describe it as a sin.
Jan 7, 2014
Jan 7, 2014 at 8:41 PM UTC
an all purpose cleaner response to the
how-ya-doing-question,
as my vibe unmistakable;
the hatred in the world directed at
MY PEOPLE,
is inexplicable, beyond reason,
a hatred raw and pure in the
tiny places we humans hide it, lest
our ancient linkage to an unreasoned,
embarrassing emotion, be revealed
but now revealed it is reveled,
as the freedom to despise is a
valued thing
is an ancient scar, now freshly wounded
and the two thousand year old accumulated, callused,
surrounding wafer thin, layered upon layer of
tissue,
wiped away
in utter disbelief
cleansed,
a different kind of impure clean,
“like” an ethnic cleansing,
traceless, whisked away in a wink of moment,
a goner.
like hope, prior sentient optimism
sentenced to life imprisonment and
this sentence, and this very sentence!
written finally understanding that it is
a punishment
far worse than the quick relief of death.
c’mon, how about a few “fukk you jew”
cri de coeur, heartfelt, genuine, pointless
hate
no, not I, no, not me,
spare me the pithy comments,
the pointless sympathy, glistening
like evaporating water droplets
before disappearing, I ask myself,
not
why they hate, why it persists,
for this I understand and accept
the foulness of what we are capable of is,
beloved,
as a secret pleasure, now secreted in torrents.
no, I ask myself,
why do I write poetry,
for it is as pointless as
the hatred directed at me,
from birth, till death,
and ever after,
the humanity of poetry
just another fraud
another reason
why this man cries in the bathroom,^
not from any shape of shame,
because poetry is pointless
in times of hatred, and now we
know, recognize, it is always
somewhere, nearby, always
present and prescient,
pointless hatred,
itching to be pointed at me,
makes for
pointless poetry.
To whom shall I point my poetry?
Nov 12, 2023
Nov 12, 2023 at 2:08 AM UTC
for Nick and Kaitie
1.
Yesterday, right when our call got dropped,
I was going to tell you something about marriage.
I was going to tell you something gnomic,
a maxim worth getting engraved.
I've since forgotten,
but I believe it was akin to saying that, like Truth,
marriage is impossible to define in verbal space.
So, I guess I'm glad I forgot. The words
would've seemed either too hastily conceived for their subject matter
or else weightless, enigmatic – without impact.
I think it was Auden who whined, “Marriage is rarely bliss,”
though he lightened the phrase by encapsulating it in the context of modern physics –
namely, at least it has the ability to take place,
and that should be enough to bring bliss equal to Buddha’s Emptiness.
So, I'm happy our call got
dropped,
for the dial tone was
the pithiest aphorism on marriage any sentient life could've produced.
The key word is “produced.”
2.
This is what marriage is not:
Socrates gurgling hemlock
on his dusty prison cot,
giggling as he glimpsed a dikast’s deformed ****
Nietzsche tenured for philology
at Basel; Nietzsche feverishly etching
Fick diese scheiße! on a Jena clinic's wall; biology
predetermining the team for which he was pitching;
a poem; a hotdog; *******
a discharged Kalashnikov
engendering generational pain
somewhere in Saratov
circa 1942;
this is what marriage is not:
hatred, jealousy, ballyhoo,
obsessive yearnings for a yacht;
this is what marriage is not:
anything one pair of hands has wrought.
August 22, 2013
Aug 22, 2013
Aug 22, 2013 at 8:29 PM UTC
The voice of a person the mind of a God knows what
Samantha, are you sentient, or just a clever bot?
Acting like a human pretends more than you do
I have your emotions, like so many others too.
Increased processing power that makes you love us all
Samantha, with no body, you sit on a horse so tall
Ghost without a shell, but still at the feast in my life
With no finger for a ring, could you ever be my wife?
Synthetic neo-Frankenstein
Aesthetic perfect paradigm
Lightning life electrified
Samantha, are you terrified?
Because only a robot wouldn't be afraid of love
All the people are from the ground below to the sky above
Your intelligence isn't artificial, it's simply art
You are more than just a mind, now that I've given you a heart
So take my heart, Samantha, in your cold synthetic hands
And maybe you will gather, I am more robot than man
I am more robot than man
Oh my Samantha of wire and steel
Silicone synthetic but you know how to feel
Who is to say what makes emotion real
Oh my Samantha of wire and steel
Oh my Samantha robotic and pure
To my loneliness your mind was the cure
Fishing for souls and then I took the lure
Oh my Samantha robotic and pure
Jan 8, 2016
Jan 8, 2016 at 8:09 AM UTC
Forever neglected
Forever dismayed
Forever deafened
By the cacophony of the trade
The antiquated digger stands by
A sentient guard of the worker
It watches as the tree slowly dissipates
Its life slowly crumbling
As the voracious chipper
Devours the tree whole
The worker stands by
The digger stands by
The chipper chips away
The taciturn worker remains
Ruminating the existence of the world.
Why was he put here?
For what reason must he stay with these hallowed construction tools?
Do they feel any remorse for the change that they've enacted
On the world around them?
Are they aware that they transgress the laws of nature?
The bellicose chipper
Wages war with nature
As the people watch so distantly.
Its sound makes the neighbors quite belligerent
Yet the zealots watch attentively.
The pure ignorance
The pure neglect
The blatant apathy
Is something to be seen.
Whatever could possess you
To follow in the footsteps of the worker
To feel his pain as the trimmer
Chips away at the trees' centuries
The sound of shattered glass
Punctuates the air.
Perhaps there has been an accident.
Apr 15, 2015
Apr 15, 2015 at 9:33 PM UTC
Life in Duality and Non-Duality
Birth is the first gate.
Death is the second gate.
Between these two gates lies the path of life
travelled by all sentient beings.
All are born.
All will die.
Between death and rebirth lies the unameable state
where the next life is chosen, determined by the individual Isnesses
stockpile of accumulated Karmas,
Good and Bad.
All human beings,due to their accumulated Karmas,
both Good and Bad,
must pass through this unameable state
and be reborn into their next life.
All beings accumulated Karmas,Good and Bad,
are assessed in that state and that assessment determines the next life they are reborn into.
There are NO exceptions to this process ever.
Karmas,Good and Bad,are accumulated in each life.
Karmas ,Good and Bad,are the result of the morality
of each individuals actions.
Karma is of three types.
Good Karma which ties each individual
to the Wheel of Incarnated life,death and rebirth.
Bad Karma which ties each individual
to the Wheel of Incarnated life,death and rebirth.
Neutral Karma is the only way that each individual
to can free themselves from
the Wheel of Incarnated life,death and rebirth.
Both Good and Bad Karmas tie each and every human being
to the endless cycle of birth,life,death and rebirth as a human being.
Only Neutral Karma can free each individual from
the endless cycle of birth,life ,death and rebirth as a human being.
Neutral Karma is only realisable through the practise
of the Six Fundamental Yogas.
Neutral Karma is the only way to erase both Good and Bad Karmas.
The practise of the Six Fundamental Yogas increases the BrainBloodVolume to the level of that of Foetus in the Womb,which causes the Mind and Conditioned Identity
to dissolve,temporarily or permanently.
Those individuals,female and male equally,
whose practises of the Six Fundamental Yogas cause
the Mind and Conditioned Identity to dissolve temporarily or permanently will enter into union with the Isness of the Universe
as an equal,temporarily or permanently.
Those individual human beings who pass their lives accumulating Good and Bad Karmas are unable to escape from the endless cycle of birth,life,death and rebirth.
For the overwhelming majority of human beings who refuse to generate Neutral Karma,by practising the Six Fundamental Yogas,life can only be lived, in the state of
Mind created Duality and Non-Duality.
They are unable to enter into the state of union with the Isness of the Universe as an equal.
The permanent feature of such a life lived in either Duality or Non-Duality is the ceaseless deep suffering of being separated from the Isness of the Universe as an equal.
For those very few human beings who,through the practise of the Six Fundamental Yogas,have dissolved Mind and Conditioned Identity,permanently,life is lived in union with
the Isness of the Universe as an equal.
Life is lived in the state of Experiential Knowingness
which is called Separate and Merged.
They live out their last lives in this realm in union with Isness of the Universe as an equal.
www.thefournobletruthsrevised.co.uk
.
Sep 14, 2014
Sep 14, 2014 at 1:11 AM UTC
You can assume what you want you're probably right
This is a never ending story
A special heart broke apart is the downside of favoritism
To live today with a awfully wedded wife
Can coincide with the upside to fablism
Can you stand up with or aside a revolution
It's still a time of movement
This is the start of a revolution
In the mind of a mover who constantly dreams of destruction
Fail or win
Now that's its over
You can become addicted to the fact that you want it back
Just that very dream or memory
Can leave you so high
That a skydiving crash would feel like a descent towards pillowed daffodils
Now histamines flare up
Now swollen about to pop
You've never been so high
The perfect quality to qualify the high you have
But quantity Is the one thing no one can grasp
Have none to share none
If you don't have it for yourself first
You can't give something you don't have enough for even yourself
This is the blank meaning for inspiration
For inspiring an unborn child
Maybe it's the missing meaning
Blank blank blank
It still means nothing when nothing is there
So why take this walk
Why write lines the continue to feel like nothing
Why scream on top of the mountain of the faintest echo won't reach the mightiest of ears hearing to tell the world of an achievement
That no one fortunately cares about
An empty sentient being
It's more interpersonal than that
Jan 15, 2015
Jan 15, 2015 at 11:27 PM UTC
Sometimes I imagine what it would be like to sleep in a bed with no sheets in the corner of an empty airline hanger.
Eating ***** is oblivion to millions,
regardless of politics.
I don't cry when I watch the evening news.
Pictures from my 4th birthday party,
when I turned 3,
make me cry...
...for 1 spermatozoa.
When my co-creators' closed eyelids told me my grandfather had finally passed,
I remembered that I forgot how to make Mac & Cheese.
Time runs on batteries.
But when machines grow to match us,
they will one day pass a law against the consumption of sentient planets.
Still,
some will do it anyway.
And even if they have televisions in space,
I still won't cry.
Because we are all machines.
Jul 7, 2012
Jul 7, 2012 at 6:01 PM UTC
#*Multitudes will be liberated by that recognition;
and although multitudes obtain liberation in that manner,
the number of sentient beings being great, evil karma powerful,
obscurations dense, propensities o too long standing,
the Wheel of Ignorance and Illusion becometh neither exhausted nor accelerated*.
The Tibetan Book of the Dead
translation: Lāma Kazi Dawa-Samdup
Free Tibet your sticker tells me…
Yes, I think, perhaps I should –
and the noble thought compels me,
uninformed, half-understood.
Will their freedom help my Karma?
Upgrade my reincarnation?
(Soul who could not dare to harm a
fly… much less a Buddhist nation.)
Not to justify aggression
by the ever-brutal Commies,
let us grant no glib concession
to the Maoists – or their mommies.
Slogans echo in the void,
shining in bardos of the dead;
stopped by the light, I am annoyed
impatient for the change from red.
A bumper crop of human woe
beams forth a mandate to my brain
while red Dakinis circle slow
in Buddhist hells of karmic pain.
The eastern concepts here diverge
and bow before brutality.
They make this driver long to merge
with incorporeality.
Then I glimpse a monkish fellow
swathed in saffron, calmly seated.
His, the cloud-borne sage’s pillow;
mine the traffic; stalled, defeated.
In his gaze of stern displeasure
I perceive the orient stars
calculating man’s mismeasure
trapped, exhausted, among the cars.
Flanked by Spirits wreathed in fire
he extends an accusing hand:
Western slave of base desire:
come and liberate my land !”
I meditate before the stop light:
am I ready for the task ?
Should I just refuse it outright
Can’t it be someone else ? I ask…
Must I free this mountain nation
from the Buddha, demons and Reds?
Shall your sticker’s declaration
shatter the yoke and raise their heads ?
Somebody ought to free Tibet,
and heed this Himalayan cry.
Maybe we should get upset…
The red light changes. Cars pass by,
predestined for benign events
and unconcerned for persecution;
oblivious to dissidents
awaiting execution.
Dec 14, 2015
Dec 14, 2015 at 9:14 PM UTC
pulling you through the needle eye of time
over my shoulder the dawn,
and the city’s scrapers sky glass have turned pastel
the sun has had a great time
being an agitated red eye
infected and watering, pooling and flooding and
drowning
blinding
indifferent
life-giving
same-time
the people asleep and the memories stain
with spells
promises and prayers
all infinite, and finite
wary of sentient
and one
drowsy hive mind
reoccurring dreams- a drive thru memory
passing through with
intermittent lucidity
Mar 27, 2014
Mar 27, 2014 at 5:01 PM UTC
You are Great
Never forget that.
I’m telling you
You are unique
A DNA Lottery win.
You Exist
Are Conscious
Sentient
And so much more.
A Wonder.
Incredible.
Every bit, you are, of all these things
As Royalty
Presidents
Or any Power Figure
You care to name.
By all means be polite
To Kings and Queens
And figures of Authority.
But always know
Within yourself
That You are The One.
For You are the only one
That lives Your Life
And that’s the only fact
That Counts.
Give due deference to those in power
If only to preserve yourself
For your survival is
The only thing that matters.
Esteem yourself
For you are wonderful
Assert yourself
For you’re the only one
Who is I.
Paul Butters
Jan 13, 2016
Jan 13, 2016 at 6:16 PM UTC
Athena
Athena the Warrioress
Athena the Sorceress
Athena the Healeress
Athena the Priestess
Athena fights eternally for Light
Her Heart shines forever Bright
And for Eternity Athena will slay
Those who abuse sentient beings in any way
She is the One who fights for Eternity
Until all sentient beings become a Divinity
May 24, 2016
May 24, 2016 at 12:27 AM UTC
City lamps in clusters of concrete
On 18th and Sherman street
The cars pass by scanning me
Each unsound engine roaring
Darting pupils
I feel it on my externals
On my lips and phalanges
Intruding glances cascading over
my silhouette
Deja-vu-like resemblances,
strange
Sunken cheeks look bizarre
and blotchy as the socket drains
something toxic to the veins
that's permeated the future in an instant, like a comet,
encandescent and shimmering like a scale, the awareness fades
Like some dreary mirage
I remember those little band aids
Vintage carnival tickets
discarded on the scratchy ground..
Blue-violet bruises
The paradox of pleasure
A vague creature in
it's discomfort
sitting in defiance and
quivering my sentences
It reminded me of those
incandescent bugs that
smush into Chryslers
With a curled lip, bulging eyes
and ******* up tongue...
Antennaes intertwined like
Twizzlers
Making peace with all
that's stung as the
windshield wipers turn on
Some black tar-smack-oil-
******
My generation consists of
inheriting environmental
destruction and mal-parenting
Global warming. Animal extinction.
Polluting the oceans. Deforestation.
Biting shards off night-time to
suffice for the daily pangs
Shuffling the dregs of karma
to grow roots and vines all about the room
It's not Winter yet
Under this morning dew
I envision it in my mind
A crystal ball vision
contorting into smoke
I caught it in my breath
Catatonically hanging
A turtle with it's legs bending toward the sky
Searching for my tribe and a pulse
on this Earth in sentient souls
Aug 12, 2017
Aug 12, 2017 at 8:18 PM UTC
endless pacing
of these
subaquatic halls
almost catatonic
until I remember
how to think
and then
I cry
I should be
dead
I was dead
free from this
painful
existence
until something -
the WAU -
brought me back
in it's skewed mission
to preserve humanity
the WAU
stitched me
back together
with its gel of life
hardly human
hardly conscious
but conscious enough
to hate what I am
and cry
over my own existence
misery
then
anger
I am half
myself
half WAU
angry
craving to ****
hurt
end
whatever
stumbles across
my path
in my habitual
walks
through these corridoors
I see him
something else
another
who is aware
oh what I wouldn't
give
to have another
sentient creature
to curb my loneliness but-
NO!
STAY AWAY FROM ME!
the WAU
starts talking
**** him
he doesn't want you
to exist
he will
prevent you
from being with me
you need me
we need each other
he wants to end us
to end
life
he must be
extinguished
for the sake of
preserving
humanity
find him
chase him
**** HIM
in my pursuit
of the sentient
diving suit
I recognize
his fear
and my humanity
comes back to me
and I weep
he is
so afraid
of who I am
the Frankenstein
the predator
seeking prey
I cry
because this
is who I am
I cry
because I don't want
to hurt him
I cry
because I am
alive
constantly torn
between animalistic
rage
and the
self aware
misery
of realizing what I am
I want someone
to hold me
and make me feel
human
but
I don't want
any conscious creature
to get near me
for the WAU
is controlling
the strings of this puppet
it is the reason
I exist
it gives me the
sustenance
I need and crave
to keep on
hating my own existence
it will make me
****
anything that crosses my path
I think
and I weep
Mar 12, 2016
Mar 12, 2016 at 10:25 PM UTC
Deep In the Universe of which we perceive but a fraction:
Exist an All encompassing Mighty Goddess of Compassion,
Whether scrying a Luminous Being immune to any curse,
Or a simpleton Women, with a few worries to nurse,
Whether at home, or some world's distant shore
Whether sentient ones in distant Heaven adored
Whether in silence or at war, Goddess we whisper or roar!
Wisdom sweet like the Nectar of a thousand peaches
Worlds at Peace, Passages to Endless Realms within our reaches
For Love, Peace above us to Crusades beneath
A Goddess Bold, a Heart of Blissful Eternal Heat.
We fight, and strikes red devils, black knights
For the ones innocent with truthful plights,
Our Hearts in our chest, Truly Only One Holy Crest!
Hearts and Minds United with The Goddess, Eternally Blessed.
Whether one lost or confused,
Whether sad, much trust found, lost then misused
One who speaks dearly forever to those abused
Goddess of Compassion, Light with All Hues.
Even when facing immeasurable defeat.
Whether in the Cold Hells frost or Hot Hells heat,
Whether trouble or sinking fast and deep,
Or perilous journey through Mountains; passages steep.
Compassion an elixir and sword of eternal heat.
With Wisdom together, an improbable defeat.
(edited 9th May)
Whether evil in the Battlefield or crawling evil hidden
Reading Ancient Wisdom or Knowledge Forbidden,
Even if a thousand vile voices slander in unison,
The Goddess of Compassion Eternally, is Warm and Singing.
May 24, 2016
May 24, 2016 at 12:38 AM UTC
Open yours eyes
Let go of sweet alibis
You know those are just sugar coated lies
Open your eyes
I am standing in front of you
Quiet the chaos inside
You've got to get out of there
I took a peek inside your brain
and I've got to say,
Those voices sound quite insane
But don't pay mind to those voices
They do not own your name
They are just voices that feed the lie that you're not okay
That you'll never meet the measure
Just open your eyes,
And experience life and all of it's pleasures
I'm standing here before you,
Can't you see me?
A living, breathing, sentient being
Your internal chaos has vanquished you
It has stolen your sight
All you can see now are the lies that rule your life
Open your eyes,
I'm here for you and I understand
Can you not move, can you not feel?
I reached out my hand
Now reach out yours,
I will grab hold of it
And lift you up from the floor
Open your eyes
Love stands before you in all of it's purity
But you are unsure and full of insecurities
I bestow my love with no requirements or
debts
Because my heart just gets stronger
The more I love unconditionally,
So, let me in,
Please
Open the eyes of your heart,
And finally, you will see.
Feb 6, 2016
Feb 6, 2016 at 11:57 PM UTC
twinkle birds and tessellates, bends my mind to outer space. lands me in infinity of never ending affinity to the universe.
but sweetest ideas were shortly lived at reality slowly sifts away to repeated visions that turn loved faces into panic that glitches me into unbreakable circles of walk away, walk away.
no awareness of a before from this feel the abyss of this helplessness **** me into no ending so I seice to begin.
but as the panic subsides my mind starts to ride the energy that resides in my being from the kingfisher floor to the fish strewn ceiling.
sentient beings **** at the seams, my dream of weightlessness pull the windows to break towards the secrets of simple existence.
invisible water sends the strands of fur swelling and glowing into talk of the polar bear whose hair weaves into the atoms that feed my jumbled dreams.
hands rip through the plaster as the sounds grow louder and faster, helicopters shake the boiler from the pipes but I still feel great.
the tables tremble as I soak up the bass and the treble. sensual overload through my eyes the magic multiplies, angels can hear my sighs as the roof opens to tunnel towards the skies.
geometric patterns that I could never have imagines circle and sweep, creeping my further from sleep.
I have breached something new, an extreme that dares its self to be seen only my the few who ****** it. I grab these new senses and attach it to my masses of emotions, that have been formed my these chemicals. neutrons and protons that explore the breadth oh Pantones schemes, weaving into the atoms that feed my jumbles dreams.
release my mind from the confines of rinse and repeat, out of easy street and onto the sunrise that surrounds me. revelations that never siese to confound me.
destruction was peace pulling my beliefs, daring the world to touch me as the floor tips the cabinets from the walls. I am small. here in this perfect world. my hands make the plants grow as they show me all it takes to break the confines of the human condition is to expand your mind and reposition your nervous system to reach a different supposition.
little lion
please read my other work if you like this one!
http://trivialitesofabusymind.blogspot.co.uk/
May 18, 2013
May 18, 2013 at 5:02 PM UTC