"unawakened" poems
Du warst meine kleine Aufklaerung
Obwohl ich noch lange nicht erwacht bleibe
Ohne dich fuehle ich die Waende
Und dreh mich den Kopf im Kreis
Bevor dich war der Horizont leer
Jetzt scheint er unfassbar, so wie die Erinnerung an dir
Und alles ist ok so, weil man sehnt immer nach
Unmoegliches
Unmoegliches bist du
Ich werde immer besessen davon
Besessen von dir
[You were my small Enlightenment
Although I long since remain unawakened
Without you I feel the walls
And turn my head in a circle
Before you was the horizon empty
Now it appears intangible, like the memory of you
And everything is ok this way, because one always longs for the impossible
You are the impossible
With which I will always be obsessed
Obsessed with you]
Jun 8, 2010
Jun 8, 2010 at 1:20 PM UTC
There's a cold Creole cry
that steeps from the underside of the moss
those thick recesses where, the water bridges tight to the banks
and even when the haunting moon fades upon its shades
there is always a cast of eerie chills that invade the frame.
The long lonely, half depressed, half unawakened strolls
that never quite lead anywhere, yet always ends by the bank
where the water calls, these deep muddy swamps
that awaits in the hopes of a lost soul to enter
to step beyond the boundaries.
There is stew in these waters
a thick haze that fills and the scent it leaves
clings always upon the clothes, hugs so tight the breath, that
no matter how far one strays, it always calls one back.
Trees that have no roots, skeletons cloaked
hinged in the thick ivy moss that scatters from limb to limb
The cries, urgent, fearful, that echoes through the thick undergrowth
gathering in Voodoo curses the humid air to dance, dance
where the imagination clings and hides, Yet! Dares to know more.
It is a long walk, one, that time cannot gather nor hold
where the fields seem surreal to the charged air
and the night falls like lotus blossoms upon the water
to float away where tides to the Delta stray.
Alisdaire O'Caoimph
Apr 10, 2011
Apr 10, 2011 at 10:06 AM UTC
The Moon and the Stars
It all started one night under the stars.
Lying in the field on the clearest yet brisk last nights of summer's warm-held grasp. Telescope, blankets, friends and stars. We watched and waited as satellites and planes flew overhead; deciphering shooting star from orbital waste, relearning and recalling constellations recognized throughout man's lifelong past. Gazing into the wide open of the unknown with thoughts of extra-terrestrial, black holes, and the possibility of life after death.
The darker the night the more magic seemed to exist. After wrapping up our outdoor viewing of the universe, we headed indoors for peaceful sessions of passing the pipe while listening to shamanic throat singing and overtones, as our friends sat gravely entranced, zoning out to the wonders of the world covered by media through National Geographic and the world-wide-web.
It was somewhere a midst all this where I find myself; body calm and mind relaxed, propped up on the couch pondering the innermost immortal thoughts of the interconnectedness of life and death and sound and energy, spirit and soul as visions of spirals infinitely intertwining as one appear before my eyes. The sensations of what I imagine the reference of “getting the gears rolling” in the center of my brain as my pineal gland begins its first steps of decalcification brought about by the intentions of man.
Up until this point my life was on a one track path. A steady straight line towards the unknown, unawakened, and ignorantly naive, believing everything I had been taught up until that moment was a true solid fact. With this new sensation of the potential for higher vibrations within my own soul, my heart began to rapidly race but without pain and suffering, rather with the excitement of this new realized grace.
Awakening to this new idea, to this new age, to this new way of life.
Dec 21, 2015
Dec 21, 2015 at 11:06 AM UTC
comfort was a long road that came to a dead
end abruptly. happiness and companionship
left suddenly with the clutch of solace. he
was left standing there in the rain, all senses
disdained. a seeing man now build to ease,
seeing the fellowship of someone that ties
knots in your throat; turns your obscurities
to seize.
distraught
at this very moment the quest for clenches
to console surrounded him with the ignorance
his state of mind was unable to control.
seeking and searching began in the
bedsheets. he found loneliness and
regret; mistake after mistake, temporary impassion
chose what risks to take. drowning in seas of
duvets, suffocation on the stench of
frictioned flesh and smothered in the salinity
pasted on each others skin like the warpaint of
ephemeral happiness, he searched down an
unsearchable road and lost his direction in the
******* forever ringing his ears with regret. each kiss
down his neck, each bite to his lip, each face-blanketing
exhale, he repents with the ignorance of finding the
will to live and love between the legs of someone who
feels the same way. the crimson crevices carved in his back
drip with remorse and sullen; hoping for once to life the
bedsheets and find an unawakened bundle of coiffure
and serenity and not calamities of regret and ****** suicide
Aug 10, 2015
Aug 10, 2015 at 8:04 PM UTC
Fragile cosmos; not expanding but exploding what it wished were a
soulful, solitary display
All of His contemplations;
a quarry of quandry for
which the upper depths of
space are the baseline
Stars, no longer an expression of a
dying Son, ethearalize upon a canvas that can either
crush The Father
or remain
painted on the dark side of the
moon; a face mistaking it's
frown for a grin, nobody to correct him
Of His own volition;
a never-ending shift of balances
throwing Everyone into it's tantric evolution
Shotten wishes, raining onto the unawakened
Hushed gasps collapsing into
vacuous nothingness
Mar 18, 2019
Mar 18, 2019 at 1:23 AM UTC
You were my world then
When sun shines to bring smiles
Darkness manifest to intensify hope
When chocolates were our ultimate fantasy
When stars were still a mystery
When your glisten eyes moisten my eyes
When wandering rejuvenate us
When togetherness is all we want
Yes still, I remember our blessed life
Yes still, I remember the promises we made
To be united even if our life is at stake
Could you recall our unawakened dreams?
Wrapped in time you left me stranded
Or the time’s chariot took you away?
Leaving me behind
Implicit and despair!
Nov 4, 2010
Nov 4, 2010 at 5:02 AM UTC
There seems to be something in this world
That is not seen by the unawakened beings
Who only wander around in ignorance and are
Always mainly striving to earn their daily living.
They have yet to discipline themselves for
Their ultimate destination and to receive
Some special training to eventually see
That which is always there to be witnessed.
It is said to be of the utmost importance
For one to meet and come under the guidance
Of a person who has traversed the way and
Knows from experience how to take others there.
There is some preparation to be undergone
By anyone who aspires to get there one day
And that they should follow the instruction
Of the person who is willing to guide them.
It is also said that: 'when the student is ready,
The teacher appears' and that: 'there is in this
World a time and a place for everything'.
Who really knows what the future will bring?
When the time is nigh and all is in hand
Consider your position where do you stand?
Make the move and leave the rest unto him
Then it will be his duty to teach you to swim.
The relationship of the true teacher and
The real student is eternal and binding
They say that it is sacred and a test of
Faith, devotion, love and understanding.
There are many obstacles along the way
All are founded in ignorance and illusion
As the fickle mind is still holding sway;
The teacher helps to remove the confusion.
Do not worry, be anxious or faint hearted
For he knows your journey has just started
He will guide, protect and see you through
To that special place you're destined to.
He's the light of wisdom the ocean of love
Power of grace flows through him from above
Adhere to him and where his feet have trod
He's not an ordinary teacher but one of God.
_____________________________________
Mar 27, 2012
Mar 27, 2012 at 8:53 AM UTC
even the dullest of knives
can **** —
a smile has fallen deep into
the silence.
wincing on and off
like terrible vertigo.
it is you lashing across
dispersing images
seeping like ruthless mileage
underneath the bone.
you come in the room
full of these hours splintered
an outpour with a foreboding,
like spindrift you wet my lips
sealed shut and silence
is all the language i understand.
what good is there that this hungry
cavalcade gapes its mouth
and metastasizes like an opulent
laugh as maniacal as drum-taps?
your are river with feet or pond
sprawling mad, enigmatical.
is this the clearing motes depart,
unhinging the crepuscular
and fade out, as a cat shrieks tumbling writhing fornication of metal and rust?
even sleep cannot manage such realness,
and the doubleness of its comatose
or say, a war in spite of its radical
artillery. between two cities lost,
its indefatigable exertion pullulates
to a hand, laying garlands
over the same blue lament of sky
and the unawakened orioles.
Dec 3, 2015
Dec 3, 2015 at 6:03 AM UTC
Reflecting pools so alike myself they become mirrors.
A kind blessing that only some could understand.
Whispering in the stillness.
Losing tears to the flood as it rushes down the road.
Beating on the pavement rampant in flight.
Simple melodies converge into an overwhelming drone.
And the reflecting pools stir within themselves.
Puddles that slide in single lines to streams into the street.
Mornings when the sun glows into warm unawakened eyes.
Holding on so tight.
Let go.
Sep 22, 2013
Sep 22, 2013 at 8:03 PM UTC
You don't know me at all,
You can't pick me up when I fall.
You keep trying to make me crack,
Stupid you, just watch me bounce back.
Don't tell me how to live my life,
Don't tell me to stop playing with a knife.
You can't tell me what I can and can't do,
I do what I do all because of you.
You must be some sort of ugly joke,
Why don't you start to hang the rope?
A murderer lives here inside of me,
Closed from love. Never to be free.
Leave me alone and let me be,
I'll suffer in dark and try to see.
You think your helping but sorry your not,
Go pull up a chair so you can watch me rot.
Want me to turn out to be just like you,
You isn't me. It wouldn't be true.
So stay away before I hit the ground,
Unawakened. Unseen. Lost and unfound.
Look at my scars, see your name?
Brokeness cried out you're the one to blame.
See you're just making everything worse,
Why don't you go pull the trigger first?
You can't fix a heart with some needle and thread,
I'd rather you hold a gun up to my head.
Try to control me and my life,
What if you saw me on the floor with a knife?
Or see me hanging from the rope you tied?
How would you feel seeing my last tear cried?
Don't come close and keep your distance,
To love, to live, be gone in an instant.
Nov 13, 2013
Nov 13, 2013 at 11:32 PM UTC
You cannot hurt me
Because I can see
Within my soul
Others may not be gold
I am not blinded
Do you need to be reminded?
My lesson is learnt
This heart is not burnt
Nor will it ever
Hurt to that endeavor
Mirror mirror on the wall
I will never take that fall
I wiped away those stains
Never to produce pain
To another
Not you, nor sister, or brother
From very young that was my vow
Because of this I live in the NOW
I love those who cross my path
Good or bad you do the math
Questions? Do leopards change their spots
Or should they just be forgot
Left in the huge worldly pile
Of unawakened minds who cannot smile
Oct 1, 2010
Oct 1, 2010 at 10:30 AM UTC
My heart on lock down,
Happiness no where found.
The scarlet rivers flow,
Death around corners unknown.
Crimson, wrist to finger tip,
Broken hearted, tear to rip.
Deeper the sharp metal goes,
Faster than the blood flows.
The very last ****** fight,
To a dark unawakened night...
The very last beat of the heart,
Life and death always two apart.
The very last poison tear,
To the end of all life's fear.
Remember my grave stone,
And all cuts down to bone.
Remember the words on stone of death,
And the very last and final breath.
Watch the heavens rain down,
The noise drowns the painful sound.
Watch each drop hit rose petals,
A long night forever gone to settle.
Feel the loneliness of the breeze,
To my brokeness, rest in peace.
Nov 13, 2013
Nov 13, 2013 at 11:26 PM UTC
Night has rendered me with words impotent,
Staggering seconds pull me nearer to a dawn unawakened
Thanking the rain as it gives me courage to hide,
I find comfort from thoughts yet to be spoken,
It will be soon, it will be soon
So says Hope and all her maidens.
.
A friend lies on her bed, with her eyes wide open
While I seek the warmth of a dream with no vision
Iron-clad feet makes no discretion,
as to whom they owe their burden
It will be soon, it will be soon
So says Hope and all her maidens.
.
Smile too often and delight you may have forsaken,
The prerogative of the loved, is that they might be forgotten
I reach the terminal of what I can entreat
Even then, the words ring like a bell being beaten
It will be soon, it will be soon
So says Hope and all her maidens.
Sep 26, 2014
Sep 26, 2014 at 5:50 PM UTC
Have you ever longed for the love of me?
Just once, will you think of me?
My desire for you, entwining within the fire,
Have you ever felt separated from me?
My love for you consume my reason,
Where now, am I found in you?
In the unawakened realms hanging on to you,
Join me there, rejuvenate, and changing the fates.
Could you let go, set alight a passion within us?
I would take you away, in lover's castaway sea,
My chest your tears to fall upon, friend and lover,
Melodious reflection, beauty that radiates you.
So come out, come out wherever you are, my love,
I am lost in your ocean of emotions so turbulent,
Give in to me, surrender to my touch and feel,
Your allurement captivates in this fantasy under the moon night sky.
Have you ever felt this way with me, even just once?
Feb 7, 2025
Feb 7, 2025 at 7:16 AM UTC
Erstwhile, the morning came a new.
Yet you, in your self imposed blindness,
failed to see the brilliance of the sunrise.
This being the lessor of two tragedies,
as the light within you, both brighter
and eternal remains equally unnoticed.
May 26, 2017
May 26, 2017 at 9:35 AM UTC
Could it be this simple..?
Allowing life as it is
Not to worry about the "I" as unawakened
Allow that unawakened I to do as it pleases
Perhaps walking down a path seeking to
Find what seems to be missing..
All of these appearances..appearing in
What is marvelously happening...
Mar 26, 2021
Mar 26, 2021 at 1:15 PM UTC
I miss people I can’t name,
I lament events I have not seen,
I have memories of things I did not experience.
And I do not know why.
Everyone is like a child to me,
Experiencing life for the first time,
And I watch with nostalgia
And wish for such blissful days of naivete,
Which I cannot remember.
I am robbed of my memories,
Wholly and completely.
I was given a false life,
To trudge about and complete,
Stuck in a green skin,
With faux potential,
And a trim of ink black resentment,
Made to live in solitude while I wish for my old life,
Mourn my friends,
And live in spite,
Watching the world grow old with detest as I grow with it.
I know that our species has a soul,
Some of which is so beautiful,
But I cannot bear to watch it’s endless pattern,
Time and time again.
It weakens me.
It wears me thin.
It makes me hate.
I am not angry with them,
The children,
The newcomers,
The unawakened,
I am simply old.
I have been old for so long,
That I cannot remember being young.
But that is our way, isn’t it?
We age every day,
And forget every morning,
And we pray every night that the next life will be different,
That we’ll wake up to a skin that’s all our own,
To people who remember us for who we are,
Entirely.
I have few wishes,
Because I have learned that nothing you can imagine,
Could be quite as beautiful,
As God’s gentle plan,
But I have always wished, despite this,
For a time all my own.
Where I can be born, live, and die,
With everyone else,
And feel whole, and vital, and real,
Instead of like a phantom in a foreign land.
Perhaps the future will bring a piece of paradise,
And God will say,
“Come home.”
I dearly long
For my final nightfall.
I dearly long,
To go home.
Oct 30, 2017
Oct 30, 2017 at 10:35 PM UTC
All the faces
have been shattered
like worn out masks
Call an angel and nay
many un-awakened
would stand aloof
Jul 16, 2022
Jul 16, 2022 at 6:02 PM UTC
for the poem I lost inside my drawer,
forgive me.
life happened
eyes dampened
glasses moistened
soul unawakened
Jun 12, 2019
Jun 12, 2019 at 1:22 PM UTC
One fly-
two wings-
flies NO-where!
Sep 24, 2014
Sep 24, 2014 at 1:58 AM UTC