Laggard, the ships drive down
emancipated parts tapping the sea with reasons
to soar back up
like fresh whales and the pieces of meat
falling to floor from human mouths sick of holograms
and trawling and fixing for our debts
ghost rythms, shaving off grissel and time
passing over stuble
the intricate need of each
hair
all of us, using the same tools;
ungendered across our bodies , my hand rubbing the grooves where your **** sat in the grass
all of the words now, slumbersome after a work day, but still able to see
where you sat and I sat
the beuatiful knife that few have, but always will
(needing only one type from one place, to begin)
saying to it, like the mad do, and we do:
‘Good God
blunt again
*****.
how many steaks have I used you on?
come on, where’s your guts – - , oyy… go onnn…’

But it’s alright about the silence
whilst you make a cheap dinner
the walls don’t know that you’re a little mad
they turn around like a house of mirrors made from cards
and say something back.

~ Can anyone solve my riddle poem? ~

An infinite schriek
Passing through nature,
Featureless, ungendered,
Not an individual creature
Frozen in time
Overlooking a fjord
More than a century later
Is still highly adored

after only 3 1/2 hours sleep, i woke up to this, this morning, something ive dreamt up.....
Life Is But A Dream

Imagine the weirdest collection of dreams you've ever had. Then imagine those dreams, were dreams, within dreams, within dreams. Then discovering  that you are not the one dreaming these dreams, but merely one of the characters, within these dreams, of dreams, and that we are all no more than bit players within the most complex dream, being dreamt, by just one dreamer, and that this dreamers dream, although seemingly billions years old, as it includes all the known science of the universe, and it's theoretical beginnings of time, where time and space become completely distorted, and disturbed fabric of infinity, and that within this chaotic tapestry, that the dreamer, is still within its mothers womb, and that the whole sequence, of all the dreams so far, have not as yet been born, and this is all a mere blip of one elongated thought, of this unborn child. then a sudden, stark realisation, comes into your head, that you belief, that you are that unborn child, and at that moment, the dream suddenly stops suddenly, and everything vanishes, just at the point you are born. You are so freaked out at this, you start screaming, as you don't understand, or can't possibly comprehend, what's happened to you, and you cannot formulate words to describe this. but at your birth, you see millions of seemingly identical ungendered entities, swimming around you, and for some unknown reason, you are all swimming for your lifes, but none of you knows why, and you all find yourselves trapped within some kind of weird flexible bubble, wondering how this space can expand, yet go nowhere. you then become aware, that all around you are dying in their masses, and you feel as though this dream, if that's what it is, is about to come to an end, and that just at this point, you hear a loud booming noise, or voice uttering these words of infinite wisdom " Glad we used a ******!"
At this point, at the end of your existence, you wonder if this is part of the dream in itself, as all the dreams, and events within these dreams, don't add up, as the sequence of events don't bind together, but is this because it's a dream, and therefore divorced from reality, whatever that may be. then you go full circle, as you realise, that all you've just dreamt, is still within the framework, of another dream of dreams, and that this goes on indefinitely, as you find yourself seemingly reincarnated into another series of dreams. Wondering, if you'll ever wake up, and if you do awaken, whether it's all part od a waking dream, of a waking dream, of a waking dream, and whatever realities you encounter, you never quite know, if they are real, or only real in that particular moment, of that particular reality. Answers on a postcard please! that is if you can understand in whichever dreamworld your in, whether they have postcards, or indeed answers. so you decide to go back to sleep, then realise you already are asleep, and that you only dreamt you were awake. If you exclude all possibilities, what is left, must be the truth. Unfortunately, how can truth be defined within a dream, wherein lie multiple possibilities, of what the truth really is, amongst multiple existences, within multiple dreams, within dreams. I often hope and wish, that dreams that are nice and romantic, happy, or ******, would have a happy end, but it's almost inevitable, you waken just when things are seemingly picking up momentum, and you wake up feeling a little cheated, or it turns somehow into a nightmare, like the dreamworld team were deliberately luring you into a false sense of security, or hope, or love, or passion. an unstoppable force meeting an immovable object. you awaken again, although you may only be waking from one dream within a dream, and go for a ***, and the sweet dream, trickles away into the toilet, and that nice dream is now lost, and did you actually go for a ***? or was that in the dream, and your body telling you, you need to ***, as the dream changes course again? sweet dreams!
by Jemia 🦋💕😏

Imagine the weirdest collection of dreams you've ever had. Then imagine those dreams, were dreams, within dreams, within dreams. Then discovering  that you are not the one dreaming these dreams, but merely one of the characters, within these dreams, of dreams, and that we are all no more than bit players within the most complex dream, being dreamt, by just one dreamer, and that this dreamers dream, although seemingly billions years old, as it includes all the known science of the universe, and it's theoretical beginnings of time, where time and space become completely distorted, and disturbed fabric of infinity, and that within this chaotic tapestry, that the dreamer, is still within its mothers womb, and that the whole sequence, of all the dreams so far, have not as yet been born, and this is all a mere blip of one elongated thought, of this unborn child. then a sudden, stark realisation, comes into your head, that you belief, that you are that unborn child, and at that moment, the dream suddenly stops suddenly, and everything vanishes, just at the point you are born. You are so freaked out at this, you start screaming, as you don't understand, or can't possibly comprehend, what's happened to you, and you cannot formulate words to describe this. but at your birth, you see millions of seemingly identical ungendered entities, swimming around you, and for some unknown reason, you are all swimming for your lifes, but none of you knows why, and you all find yourselves trapped within some kind of weird flexible bubble, wondering how this space can expand, yet go nowhere. you then become aware, that all around you are dying in their masses, and you feel as though this dream, if that's what it is, is about to come to an end, and that just at this point, you hear a loud booming noise, or voice uttering these words of infinite wisdom " Glad we used a ******!"
At this point, at the end of your existence, you wonder if this is part of the dream in itself, as all the dreams, and events within these dreams, don't add up, as the sequence of events don't bind together, but is this because it's a dream, and therefore divorced from reality, whatever that may be. then you go full circle, as you realise, that all you've just dreamt, is still within the framework, of another dream of dreams, and that this goes on indefinitely, as you find yourself seemingly reincarnated into another series of dreams. Wondering, if you'll ever wake up, and if you do awaken, whether it's all part od a waking dream, of a waking dream, of a waking dream, and whatever realities you encounter, you never quite know, if they are real, or only real in that particular moment, of that particular reality. Answers on a postcard please! that is if you can understand in whichever dreamworld your in, whether they have postcards, or indeed answers. so you decide to go back to sleep, then realise you already are asleep, and that you only dreamt you were awake. If you exclude all possibilities, what is left, must be the truth. Unfortunately, how can truth be defined within a dream, wherein lie multiple possibilities, of what the truth really is, amongst multiple existences, within multiple dreams, within dreams. I often hope and wish, that dreams that are nice and romantic, happy, or ******, would have a happy end, but it's almost inevitable, you waken just when things are seemingly picking up momentum, and you wake up feeling a little cheated, or it turns somehow into a nightmare, like the dreamworld team were deliberately luring you into a false sense of security, or hope, or love, or passion. an unstoppable force meeting an immovable object. you awaken again, although you may only be waking from one dream within a dream, and go for a ***, and the sweet dream, trickles away into the toilet, and that nice dream is now lost, and did you actually go for a ***? or was that in the dream, and your body telling you, you need to ***, as the dream changes course again? sweet dreams!
by Jemia