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Edward Alan Feb 2014
That statue of a god, with godly state,
whose clenching fist and arching back expand
to free the thund'rous trident from command,
will hold his step and ever warn and wait.

That statue of a god dares uncreate
that Sculptor of a god, Whose waxen hand,
in image of Himself, prepared to stand
those ankles, feet, and knees that spell his gait.

Gouge out his eyes and skyey senate seat;
his absence reassures Us, Men, the stellar
blanket warms but nameless moons and stars;
that fire that rises from an earthy cellar
lends itself and names it solely Ours,
so that Our liver is Our own to eat.
Know, Celia, since thou art so proud,
  ’Twas I that gave thee thy renown.
Thou hadst in the forgotten crowd
  Of common beauties lived unknown
Had not my verse extolled thy name,
And with it imped the wings of Fame.

That killing power is none of thine;
  I gave it to thy voice and eyes.
Thy sweets, thy graces, all are mine;
  Thou art my star, shin’st in my skies:
Then dart not from thy borrowed sphere
Lightning on him that fixed thee there.

Tempt me with such affrights no more,
  Lest what I made I uncreate.
Let fools thy mystic form adore,
  I know thee in thy mortal state.
Wise poets, that wrapped truth in tales,
Knew her themselves through all her veils.
Andrea Lee Bolt Dec 2020
first time I saw you
was in a vision
so when I saw the familiar light in your eyes
it grabbed my attention

did I bake you up in a dream
how are you everything you seem
love at first sight, alright
I wanna be game

knew you were coming
left the door open
no words need spoken
have finally broken
our love chains
set me free

You know who you are
this game is our art
the act of remembering
pondering who you are
wondering why you visit this dimension
why aliens grab your attention

all the answers lay within
private bliss den
every thought ever written
level up, Neo
forget reminiscing

the unknown is calling
a daydream for good reason
knowing tomorrow
always the illusion
privacy a myth
you'll reach the same conclusion

take the red pill
grab a shovel
find your dig-nity
give till you become We

each kiss expands me exponentially
the only thing keeping you from me
is I have to accept this is my reality

Baby,

You gotta tell me.

Please, honey. Darlin. Bae.

  Did my mind womb bake you in a dream completely? How are you everything you seem?

That's it. Surrender

Now I believe in the Light
cause the Lawrd naw
I just fell in love at first sight!

yes, I know there's so many roads this could blow
trust me
let's go to a new town
protect our vibe

I am in the Light and Lawrd knows I believe in love at first sight
God oh Mary oh my good Harlequin. Can I get an Amen for this goddess worshipping session?!

Frida, our soul sister.
I call Kwan our the lady of the Yin
Magdalyne! Where you been, my fierce maiden girlfriend?
Buffy the Slayer and all my guides,
MJ we forgive you, use your light to unite the tribes.
Chad Boseman we know you're with Us
plus sirens of love,
Rumi and Shams all the cosmic lover aliens sent from above
come ****** your glory on We!
For we have fell in love and wish to accept Loves Fulfillment as our divine quest!

Oh to believe
receive this oh Lords
I need a witness.

Blessed be. We will pray to any holy trinity
please
Us and Gods, you know we're all the same matter
so this is something I really want MAKE IT MATTER!

If I'm creating all of this, and I'm We and Us and He is me and the flicker in his pupil is part of said We
Then can we all agree that this is the best feeling sauce and the past is the past and now we know we can let it in! The chase was so fun and now we are ready to swim.

Across all ancestral ties all soul dimensions
throughout all space and time
We bring to the surface anything that may block or deny
our love at first sight
our one true love from existing in the here and now
anything real or imagined, anything we may have previously created that would conflict with this new desire and passion
We uncreate, delete and alchemize here through the void.

We call upon the most romantic energy
the divine oneness of the we
we know we wrote this story with thee
we pray for ease, grace and harmony.

Thank you for co-creating with us
this adventure
the one that's our utmost romantic encounter
no repeats only new waves of love's passion
we'll read this again if we ever feel out of fashion.

Home is where we stand in the womb of the greatest game.
Thank you for playing with Us, gods and unicorns. We'll pick one of you to name our first born.

Love you, Us, Me and the We.
We (all the people who reside inside of the consciousness that makes up the whole of who I, Andie, am. A shapeshifter if you will.) have been answering our call, accepting the quest that we have come to not preach but yeah, preach. Sans the soapbox. We spent out life being a comedian and tv writer and we see that all of that was just to prepare us for our. life's purpose. Our ego has had to die many times and it was a... hell riot. Apparently our soul wanted to give us the full extended pack version tour of the 9 circles of hell. So we reemerge a story shaman with the goal to make the journey much quicker and more enjoyable for everyone else. Part of this was healing our human body of 3 diseases. They say your mess is your message and boy did I get to trip over my purpose. Part of that is I can channel source energy. I've helped many people guide their own consciousness to healing and our purpose will be to do that on some sort of larger, clown-ier scale. I'm not religious nor was I raised that way but I do now have a relationship with just about all the Gods. I believe in all of it and that whatever you believe you are right. That like Rumi said "beyond wrongdoing and right-doing is a field, that's where I party." I stay out in thtat field and invite you to come join me. This site is creating an outlet for me to let some of this stuff out, still figuring it out and tuning our unique frequent-say. Till then, enjoy the ride who knows what's gonna come out. If anything resonate please holler! So curious as this is new consciousness expression for us in a big way.
ZorbatheGeek Feb 2015
so you create me
and show me the beauty
of your other creations
then desire fills me

the needs and wants
pain and joy
prayers and pleading
then the lessons of karma

and then back to the dust
did i ask to be created?
or is this a game you play
to **** your boredom

i dont want your grace
your bliss or pity
my only request not a prayer
just uncreate me
Mike Essig Jan 2016
Steal the pencil sketch
god drew to design you,
erase it line by line,
uncreate your self.
What remains to say?
Only the nothing
that is and the
nothing that isn't,
two nothings that
don't make something.
  ~mce
Ken Pepiton Jul 27
The hermit's wish or prayer,
he doesn't care what we call it,
he does it constantly in some form,

thinking many or much
in spirt form, as thought words,
heard informing my will to conform
seems meme-ish, ideas in form of me,

I am the thinker, these maybe thoughts
that you thinked, once, just as
now we think, an other time, this same idea

so this is a thing.
now this is a thing
named as one of many thought
like things,
nothing distinguishing any
as especially better than another,
as a weform,
we think across this emptiness
between kinds of minds we make up,
and use, then return
to real ifity where others are
thinking word by word to now,

what good could I do, if I were you?
I can pretend to imagine,
I may fictionize you,
pitying your childhood
when you beloved lies


I can never think of flea circuses
without really wondering why.

Curiosity, as subtlety
of the most refined sort, cunning
of the craftiest knackery kind and
dominant psypsiscientifick gnosis

Art and artifice, perceive
ja,
reach, using astral hands,
manipulate your spirit fingers,
touch the point that makes you

plainly here, exactly, out act now
being, mind in abstracted pinches
of salt belonging to the whole earth.

Yes, indeed, lovely ideal children can
imagine, from remenants, mind reals,
made believable by osmosis, *******

saline imbalence switches, mercurial
fluxuating difference engines ideas,

mere thought, pure breath, ideal
environs for hope's founding deal,

we agree, I say, you listen, you say
I hear we think we both know truths,

I think that means we both know true
bits of discernible substances useful
for holding spirit forms of will to be.
Seeds, packeted entropy defiance,
applied knowledge of physical reals,
eh, take away fi from desire to destroy.
be fruitful and multiply.

Entropy and me, be having some will,
as fish have will to swim,
as wind has will to list,

in a word,
as mere mind material substance,
we create and uncreate, make and remake
minds with will to serve, minds willing to wait.

----------------
Ok. Safe. Solid state.
Waiting on orders, idle.

Wishing earnestly good
fi ripened old age usings,
a child formed conceptual
hold on power to like or not like

by abstaining, reasoning stain away
by stretching intention to actual ever,
by will having being to actual make

another thought fit the whole.

So, since the initiation
… when
curio store Katcinas
possessed Pentecostals, and
Silicon Beach powered pens
loaded with Aldus digital fonts,
materialized from mother's role
reached out to mediate propitiation,

pity we miss the connection. On and on,
ever after from now on, as a man thinks
in his heart, so he is, so he goes on, being

this form of truth made into such a being
thing in form more firm than mere wish
to be this

Alert, minimum viable audience reached.
Prepare to propagate…

Ride the high lonesome.

That's what it's called, being
by yourself,
at the end of tire tracks, watching
for ice on the cow pond all winter,

I never did the cowboy gig for real, I
saddled rental horses for a Landry
operation, but not for very long.

Imagine being wakened by a splash.
And there is Seth Godin,
saying why I am not commercial.

I agree, one reader, really, one
slow reader, on a given taken day,
for me, in truth, wu wei easy day,
one discerned point refined by one

is plenty, worth the risk of self delusion.

Pushed forth pity, empathetico.
pro-piti-ation, paid ahead, indeed.

"It is some comfort
to receive commiseration or condolence ;
it gives one strength
to receive sympathy
from a loving heart ;
it is irksome
to need compassion ;
it galls us
to be pitied. "
[Century Dictionary, 1895]

Curios, Kurios so, strange
the arranging of knowers
to knowing, useful and useless
efforting, to shape a mind like God's,
"wrought with or requiring care and art;"

for this mind must function
in the emptiness, so we know, already

some addition beside this point, dokein,
Greek for thought held as opinion, doxologous

seeming good, we take this thought, accepting
maybe as already is if it ever was,

take no anxious thought, the axiom,
take yes, any other do kein harm,

do nothing, wait, lieve being be so,
we know nothing,
as we ought, as we seem
to change our minds,

only after doing the actual haj,
let this mind be in you right,
let the mob mind stay behind,
good maybe, if taken, as what doctrines
were imagined, absolute undeniable,
by children whose wills wish
to act as muse,
per use, thinking good enough
to taste, and think, come on,
lead my mind
into doxological kuriosarcaniam-

let me be perfectly clear,
what we do not know,
is more than we know.

So, as a you, who you think you are,
be, within the bubble of all you dare

examine, as might the arbiter of idle
against idyllic… suffering the situation,

or patiently waiting while holding this thought.

The axiom of all fructification, hold true,
you do reap what has been sown, and grown

specifically to keep the likes of me alive.
Life in word form only needs one mind agreeing.

We can realize we have been lied to, and rethink
everything, on any given day, using taken time,

to wonder if reason and rationality are part of life, as a whole.
To the audience, dear reader ears, hear the plan-seeds have, think with me, in this medium new in all recorded time, this is five generations of converging communication combining to become the powered pens,
prophesied by Jerry Pournelle, Bucky Fuller, Stewart Brand, and all the survivors of the internet bubble. In the spirit of Seth Godin's Idea Virus, I am publishing this stack of lines from mind's I have used to offset anxious announcements of pending collapse, as a prophylactic.
All I have put on Hello Poetry can be printed, stapled, folded, mutated, ****** performed or graphically presented, or developed into anything but a tool for war.
- If you find a good idea, you can grow a forest from it.
Diane K Pak Feb 2020
Fear not while I'm all alone.
Broken like it's feel it all gone.

These empty spaces felt like I can't even pace it.

I just try and try and try
Wanting to find and find and find

What's wrong with my mind
I haven't felt fine.

Let's make it alright.

I'll try to find some time to make it all, all right.

I wish I wouldn't hide this side
like I am trying to find my smile and hope it last more than awhile.

I hope this pain couldn't have a name.
Like It mine with a written stings like this begins.

I wasn't here to find a hinge, but hope to uncreate this broken bridges.

Like the sun it meant to move, but all I wanted was to groove.

Groove to the move like I'm trying to soothe.
Soothe to ease the pain
like it's my trying game.
Greg Mc Aug 2017
Time travelers of past futures gone bleak into space, time staring, reflecting voids created in order to uncreate. Surveyors of back alleyways littered with cake and angels. They shout out profanities, reflected by dry bricks and geckos clicking.

Barred windows
Crayons and baristas
Overflow cups of mirth

Apartment walls, a membrane worn thin by incessant bickering, a thick patina of noise and foot thrusts through silence. Three women escorting lesbian foresight, caroling the throes of silent *******. Three feet of water drowning friends in the night, the air thick with bleeding apologies and hitchhiking strangers, casting shadows in a vibrant, violent, purple wake.

I see you
Oregon girl
Ferocious but frail

I ask you what time it is and we both laugh at the absurdity of the chain of circumstances. Jazz concatenating with noise in a staccato sun dance. Friends and wine, red smiles and delineated eyes casting visions of tomorrow against a projected memory.

Six pair of eyes
for breathing colors
into the night

The silence deafens, then lets up- and we roar with laughter, most hearty.

— The End —