Have you ever thought deeply about Prime numbers?

We normally think of prime as something unbreachable

In base ten this is most likely true

But there are other languages that might be used to break down numbers

I'm no theorist but I have my theories

What was behind the Big Bang?

Prime

If impermeable ... then the Big Bang never happened

And any good programmer worth a lick of salt, always leaves a back door

So, I bet there are some Prime numbers out there that are permeable, otherwise ...

We wouldn't be the Children of the Big Bang

The Breach Interpretation: Is a mild chemical defect, found on the losing side of painful guilt itself.
Making (or, causing) such troubling acts of kindness, the very rhythm (full of justifiable results...), on the biggest possible gimmick...that could ever be committed.
That's just a rough outline of the very interpretation (of "The Breach") itself.
But the Breach part, is truly insignificantly broken from the deep inside out....
The Breach itself however, fully adopts the very different struggles between both "what is right", and "what is wrong" (with one's own personal image, and their own personal struggles at large).
But that doesn't mean nothing should be any different, then when it came to how right that very someone's personal image was, and how awfully wrong their own personal struggles were...when they interpreted it into millions upon millions upon millions of different fragmented individual pieces, (of their own collection). (And that's just the tip of the iceberg, when you finally console the very dynamic realization, of eventually, coming to terms with the long acts of perspectives...) That then obviously shows that those millions upon millions upon millions of different fragmented pieces (with their very own different properties and meanings), because nothing is truly conclusive in ALL these specifics areas and points (of a system that has more to offer, then any other order of things which could tilt at ANY moment...) Revealing a mere simple reaction in their form upon an even simpler side-effect.
Which tips the balance of power...and creates the most unsteady order of chaos that could become either an unstable universe (that could hypothetically become "stable", anyways).
Or just another standard, simplistic, normal sense of self full of such logical wit, (or the smallest of components of each), could then finally define both each others strengths and weaknesses.
Once this happens, everything becomes much clearer, (of course with time).
And this very interpretation of ("The Breach"), can then become fully "self-established" towards just what truthfully surrounds this very Breach itself.
Nevertheless, things now become more founded upon.
(When once it was truthfully subjected towards an unfortunate one-sided enclosure that didn't know how to officially become as one.) Because it was simply missing its other half that was an entirely unknown placement that didn't know it even existed.
The Breach Interpretation is full of all sorts of unbreachable flaws!
But for how much is truly unbreachable...fully depends on the sorts of acts you commit towards.
That's entirely why, this very interpretation is fully masked by the intentions of either others, (or your very own, intentions).
Because in the end, intentions lie their way too victory!
And that's the start (not the finish), towards an act of serious possible violence...(that truthfully defies the very expectations...), of what The Breach...truly is!

Something is out there,
Waiting in a whisper,
Dreaming within the silence,
A voice drowned,
By the dull roar of the crowd,
Listen closely,
Crying out in the void,
Quietly, but with such force,
An ocean’s tide cannot erode
Hell’s flames cannot devour,
The emptiness of space cannot stifle,
A frenzied vibration of indiscernible lines,
Drawing together,
All things separated by time & place,
Unbreachable barriers,
Crumble before the power,
Of that which now lies ahead,
The entire future in this moment,
Open the ears within and hear it,
The fury of the storm
is the splash of a single dewdrop.
All things as one.

Her voice but a whisper as

Death clutches her tiny frame

Her eyes ***** windows unbreachable

As her sins

She takes to the grave



She tries in vain to convey her pain

As her words

Rattle rasp and hiss

Incomprehensible

Empirical

The language of the dead



For surely she knows

Her death
Given her pain

Will be a welcoming comfort



She closes her eyes in anticipation

Her breathing short and laboured



Her mind and body have betrayed her

Fragile and frail

Wrought of disease this husk of a shell

That was once so beautiful

Unrecognizable

Soiled in excreta



Silently crying as

She lay dying

Ravaged by unwanted

Memories of a time

Long Gone



Living is easy she

Mused

It is death that is hard

And with that final thought

She gasped

And she was gone

With each step, as you near,
You may find an unbreachable outskirt.
It floats and carries on for miles upon miles.
Were a man immortal
He would find no end still.
It rises to the clouds,
It extends into the earth.
It may be found to hold a key,
One of which is not known to me.
A concealed weapon against this passive aggressive beast.
As haunting to both sides,
It ruins left and right.
Leaving mess in wake,
It will continue and savage on

Just walk away
Just leave it be,
Many have not,
And seemingly will not,
Find the door;
They won't walk through.

I’ve learned that
nothing
truly touches.

“Likes repel,”
explains the unbreachable
absence between electrons.

Perhaps this is why
I feel distance
in our embrace.

Hardened and honed
Right down to the bone
Unreachable
Untouchable
Refined in the fires
Of monsters' desires
Irredemable
Irretrievable
Forever being oppressed
Pressed and compressed
Inescapable
Ineluctable
Walking this world alone
Dragging a heart of stone
Unbreachable
Unbreakable
No longer afraid
A warrior was made

©Pauline Russell

these walls were made to be unbreachable
built on the heart that shattered countless times
no giant has ever ruptured this rubble
and no god had enough power to see inside

so when the fissures started appearing
and the stones slowly watered down
i ascend to see nothing but a weakling
with velvet words and eyes of brown

delicate and precious as the intruder may seem
his dance was probing and destructive
the words he spoke fractured the seams
and the walls could do little to disrupt him

panic kept rising as the questions insued:
was the intruder a blessing? or was he the scourge?
should the walls be torn down? or immediately renewed?
was this an act of good will? or just another purge?

from this perspective it was truly hard to say
what his intentions were and if his heart was true.
or maybe the wall had made me forget how to play?
i laughed and went down and pretended to know what to do

i fell asleep amongst bottles of paint
and strokes of love
thinking of you
and the undying love that is
buried deep in my heart
and around it
an unbreachable wall stands to this day
unequivocally there
and withstanding
your heart is a poem
whose words bind with mine
your eyes are a paintbrush
that paint the skies
you've got a handle on my heart
painting on the canvas of the future

 - you were always an art form too beautiful for unworthy eyes

... Her eyes charted a triangle on his face. His gaze was the ship following the charts. Lost in the Bermudas? She froze her stare at his mouth. Very slowly, inexorably, and absentmindedly, he was sinking, leaning in… like falling into a maelstrom of trance. Time expanded from a puddle to an ocean. The Earth stopped turning. Her eyes were closing, a hundred times slower than the setting sun. Ever so slightly, almost undetectably, her face moved to meet him, for the smallest distance possible. Like half a step, inviting completion. He stopped right before touch… where proximity was impossibly close, blurring the line. The air between their lips felt like contact; a magnet… giving haptic feedback of tingling sensation. Her eyelids lifted again, as if pulled up by the anchors of eyelashes, tethered to his irises. She was stuck in a moment of anticipation. Her lips twitched open, holding her breath. Her eyes focused, wondering, asking thousands of questions per second… saying nothing… waiting to find out what happens after “to be continued…”. She hated cliffhangers. The cruelty of waiting for the sequel.
     He interrupted that confusion; spoke in low voice:
“Stop. Imagine... there’s an invisible wall, incredibly thin, but also unbreachable. Will you be window shopping Me? This is better than the actual thing. Because all you want is right on that threshold. And you can choose. Right now. You can choose to extend that moment. Hold it for awhile. Keep it longer. Before it manifests and senses consume it. Stay with me on the other side of the window. Be the want, the desire before satisfaction dulls hunger. Be the thirst before the glass is full. Feel the water pour. Hear it spill. Anticipate the cold moisture with the edges of your tongue and the inside of your cheeks. Swallow the sip of saliva that your senses milked from your thoughts. Now… bottoms up”

Never thought I could
Or imagined I would,
Be so vulnerable
Or so exposed,
To one such as you
That could break me,
I was unbreachable
An island,
But no man is
Unto himself isolated,
From the wills of his heart
Or the whim of his soul,
And the mind knows
It's a trap,
It sure as hell knows
There may be no coming back,
But it follows through
It's never blind,
It just gives in
Hoping against
All it's rationale,
That it's going to be worth it
That it's going to be okay,
And I still do
Think that it'll all end
With you,
Like the shore
Ends at the ocean,
Big and blue
Safe and sure...

APAD14 - 004 © okpoet

How human it is
To build faith so high
To reach to the heavens
Like kites in the sky
Yet to know the beach ends
And not think yourself small
Is to architect structures
Destined to fall

Fall in the wake
Of some afterlife's tide
To drown in the pull
Of the oceans inside
Mortality's depths
Are but dark mystery
We voyage for land
But get lost out at sea

A sea of salvation's
Untouchable dunes
Unbreachable gates
To repentless typhoons
Rising levels of sin
Floods of doubt and dismay
When all we construct
Simply washes away

Down in my sealed off heart
I build a fortress of many parts
With great gates and unbreachable walls
Tall towers and deep columned halls
Measure upon measure to ensure
My fragile heart might endure

what does anyone do with the silence they leave behind?
i keep searching for a place to let my sound fall, collapsing atop the floor
but there is no place to rest.

grunts keep passing into my ear,
shaking the most fragile of hairs with every breath.
i want to ask you to stop, but you cannot hear my pleading as it rings throughout my head.

locking myself away behind an iron, sturdy door.
i observe once again how it looks like it could be locked, unbreachable, but opens with a simple pull.
you could find me here, past this door that does exist someplace, but you will never notice it-
for it is truly silent here, and you are too loud, too caught up in your own pain and pushing.
while you make yourself bigger, i close the door shut.

i can hear you, behind this door,
but you are muted by the wrought iron.
it is not perfect, like you are not even though you try to be,
and like i am not, as i must remind myself,
but this breath of quiet is one that i drink readily.
it is a crude mimicry of rest, but one that i must take as i find it,
in this place between dissatisfaction and elation.