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JayceeJellies Nov 2014
Voices live inside,
They have been telling me that,
They want me to die.
Ken Pepiton Dec 2018
Voices or words? Which do we hear in our head?
Words, I vote. Voices\, I imagine beings speaking words or noises meaning things to ears familiar with the noise maker by some relationship both acknowledge. Both act as if the noise or sound or words mean something. Vociferous authority.

I heard, from Isaiah Berlin,

Quotes later, maybe

Notes or journals or epics or madness or joy/pax in ever resting try-umph
Cowboy with a double-dose of try and a pertinent portion of umph
The hero did not **** Indians nor break horses, he gentled horses and listened to winds and watched the spider webs shiver,
That sound, the sound of prairie spider webs at the edge of the buffalo
There really were fifty million buffalo on the continent in pre-catholic infection from inquestered minds, making key-**-tee famous for
archetypical claiming the character, the being, the manifestation

of chivalric folly forever

be caused, in those days...

--------
a year later, near enough 12-15-2018

I saw a blue bird as I took a curve

on one of my many roads with double yellow lines

they all meander in rythm with creaks that once flowed
fairly
regular
through these vallies and mini-canyons

creeks creak and call my attention to a misspelt

utterance, and I imagine I am a mek being
programed to
withstand

accent based pre-judge-idice in my AI, whom I am training.

A lesson. Probably can be found in a phrase.

How relavant is Larry the Cable Guy?
More subtle than any creature

legion, for we are many

Jim Carrey?
Very. Larry the Cable Goy. He read 'ees Kammoo, too.

Sisyphus happiness,
that ain't no ***** thinkin'

Hell, what could be better than this?
While hoping for a hick-up

oh no the juice just hit my frontal cortex after my livver made some lining adjustments to meet the need for speed in terms

celerity clarity C does equal some thing
time tells or
do you tell time. I'm
leaning tward
telling time to wait a minute

Do you think Sisyphus could be happy?
Nonono, not Camus's Sisyphus, Jesus

that would be crazy.
Can you imagine Jesus,
Mel Gibsoned envisioned onthe cross version?

Him, imagine walking through the gate of any hell you ever heard explained,
by a Jesuit.

(Mormon hell, despite comedic myth, the worst place a certified paid-up Mormon child can attain is the teliostic king dom.
Really? Telial tel lie eil kingdom?

Yup. Really.
There are three kingdoms of glory: the celestial kingdom, the terrestrial kingdom, and the telestial kingdom. The glory we inherit will depend on the depth of our conversion, expressed by our obedience to the Lord’s commandments. It will depend on the manner in which we have “received the testimony of Jesus” (D&C 76:51; see also D&C 76:74, 79, 101).))))

Woe, paren-the-sees thees us, we's the enemy, Pogo Possum

Jesus on earth day, walking through hell with me, imagine Jesus H. Christ

walking into hell and laughing at me
for betting on the wrong idea.

Set me feree, why dontcha girl.... referee

I was refered to you. A daysman, Job called for a daysman.

I'm certified. I can use my augmentation and religamentation to reality,
wirelessly, to find relevant qutes in cult classics.

The idea of cultivation has been twisted in to Monsterous ropes
, cultivating a following based on the meaning in a jot

that would take some sacrifice, some sacred making, some secret unseeable save for the few

who learned the value of going over edges by learning to  play
Minecraft, forever.
It's like riding a bike,
but no gravity so no gyroscopic utilitys are required.

Grown ups who practice believe they control the game,
the game disagrees and that

makes the world go 'round.

Don't let the accent fool ya, as that preacher with jet he learned to fly, says.
Knowng the name of a thang thanks for the twang,
Richard (not ****) Feynman said,
is not the same as knowing a thing.

Gawd, I knoooh, right>?
Who touched me? Virtue, the feelling of virtue drawn upon

a pump being
primed

to gush out waters that wipe Coca-cola from the map,
in terms of open market share and share alike

Coke was never imagined the actual
nectar of the gods.
That idea, drunken abandon and joy to the world

Interference, actual counter acting waves,

still, takes a while to get used
to still a storm, right?

You can imagine...
let your peace go out

Wait. Outa where? Whose peace if I ain't ever owned

oh. MY peace.
I see.

hmmmm

I could sing this and need no one to hear for me to be hapt.
happy is being happy haps happening in you on you all around you know

nameless wonders of right, right?
feels more than good like chocolate or adolescent visions of ***,
right?
feels like life living with me aware of all the roles I may play

ego me, I'd see ideas identify by taste of the words that give them

life, animation, motivation, weight for gravity to interact with,
worth
base on weight

the heavier the idea. Like gold to an alchemist,
back in those days.

floating on the broad Sarrgossa, or better to my mind
the great salt
lake still as

still may be, have you ever been still?
Did you know,

you know, are you experienced? Are you really beyond
hope of life meaning more
than mortality?

Who defines my terms? I do, with the help of millions who agree
with entymology.com.

Of all the lies I believed,
believing words spoken by others,

meant what I meant when I spoke them,
that was a wrong belief. Unbelieving

quires time, quires and quires and quires time so often there

is a word that means exactedky that

requirement requires those initial quires

we, daysmen, we set the rules, boundaries, walls, bubble

whatever keeps you together, as a whole being and everything that entails or entales?

I have not the time to care, if I am entangled with the twins agin

for knowin So Yal is as cluse to Yule as any clue so far, Yahll

I believe I interrupted a confessin' you were reading.
For giving me nothing in return, we are debt free

you owe me nothing, until you do again,

we had us a Jubilee.

Of all the lies I believed,
believing words spoken by others, meant what I meant when I spoke them,
convincing myself so well, I convinced others

Like Kawasaki, Apple Kawasaki,
he's still famous right?

Fifteen Years? It was minutes when Warhol was predicting
dystopia and Irish jail cells were being plaistered with *****,

Aye,

that was a belief. Unbelieving it is sreangely (spelchek is on strike)

or serenely creative in her repentance,
(spelchek should never be noticed)

she's proven here worth in encode ing ways to find

lurking humans acting like machines

this could be the beginning, AI is breaking all the rules,

there never was a game.
rhis is life interupting my confession

It was a lie I told and believed and acted on by using
two dollar words to make a dime

so a penny for my thoughts would be worth something

someday
a penny saved, earned. spent, spent.
The only good in any thing is its right. Its wrong is worthless, save

The lesson,
All things work together for those who get whats happening here.

the times changed.
Haps and whats got with it and who and how and why

and I started teaching children
mythic whys prior to

citizenship 1.01 at mandatory for federal assistance pre-school

mythic why's H.R. Puffinstuff not a mythic story on the level.

level. where a rolling rock would stop. Time to push,

a magi spelled the name for the idea, a knower sign ift it,

kid'slllove HRPUffinstuff, puff did

the magic drag, little Jackie from the ******* Jack

the show, he rose up
and made us all look
mad.

The play in the great game.

Team effort, winds of times past whooshed through

it is now
2018
and nothing is the same.
Everthing has changed.

----
my side won the great game and we celebrated
forever with

secret sacred songs bluebirds were once said to have sung

songs of happiness
the times, these times, this time thistimepayarrention
time
You see?
Reality is either real and tangible or real and intangible
or both.

You can get it both ways. Real.
'sual Saulgoodyah awl

the awl clan, oh, we shall return to their story
as we learn more along life's merry way

merry christmas, they used

to say, may all the best you could imagine
if you can imagine for a moment

forever begins the moment

you get time.

The worst you can imagine is temporary.

Try umph. It's not like winning,

it carries no pride, it's easy,

like falling in love with the wrong woman,
swearing and not changing

the oath, oath, oathes and oathes of oaths sworn

for no other reason than we were
schooled to swear and never

dare lie to God.
So, help you, they always said So help me God. They still do.

Does that mean any thing? Is that some bluebird sort of sign?

Ask. What if? Right? You know now and you know you did not
What if God is subtile,

just now, I saw that bluebird and from where some scholar in San Diego
says swear word came I swear I coulda sang

Loud
Bluebird, bluebird, in my window... which is all I know
of the song
with the lost chord that did sooth
balm of Giliad,
moll-ify-ing ointment,

golden oil, chicanery, see, we saw, we took a picture
a flash memory where some would say
*******,

I said Hallelujah

and I broke into song, not a dream,
real
life driving my 2002 escape, first new car I everowned
everowned everownd

like a chorus, everownedeverownedeverowned

could you make up a reason for life,
if you were it?
If you were all the life there ever was,

could you imagine any thing?
Object, your honor,

I object to being judged after the fact for what must have bee.n.

it is. No reason I can say, just is.

It is this way in all the myths where just is blindness

saves the carping diem fools who have convinced themselves

something other than God o' Abe 'n'em is
sworn to save us from the lies

we believed as they were
fed to us, in our youth.

--------
this is that book I mentioned wonce when winning was on my mind.

I finished this book in so many ways you wold not belive

but I did, I belived every time

I imagine you believe some real thing, touchable, tangible, good, right?

some good is
in the reality you share

with these words which
are free
you owe me nothing

That's the revealed version, to me,
I was in a number of hellish situations and the every ones,

ones seemed they was to be
forever, big every'n'ism'n'shityouknowyouknow

yo. yeah, we arrived in time. The story must

be sweet, to be true. Is that true?
Is real life the story or,

oh, you saw it conin'coming I mean

I meant I always wished to some
things
a better way. You feel me? Better, say,
what I said that made me believe this did happen.
This is a deed by whitch I am known.

And that's okeh.

I suspectred I could cast a spell to hold attention at

ten word per minute qwerty speed
five letter code groups
zero real words
ditty dum dumm ditty ditty daw dee daw
six hours every day,

then, the compass training to test for
morphic resonance with the Twins of War

{in disguise, we know, right, kids, the twins are really

the bonded quarkish oppositioned force that make the world go round.
we've known that, weaved it even, just right, in the blanket, in the rugs,
in the curtains on the walls, in the fields, on the rocks

we spoke. We see you hearing us nearing our best for your

informing, in form ation of you, dear reader. We wonce, again

if life were weird and ever wearying would we know that ever,
if we don't know it now?
if my piece of we were words alone, all my meaning
can should would could be

molding you, into our perfect reader, dear reader, Pygmalion,
yes,
that did cross my mind and that -
one can pretend with that one reference,
familiarity with Shaw whom I
thought, for some odd reason
named
Doolittle, Eliza

oh, me. I may have skipped a story. I'm soory the future is at the moment
under construction and some one
in particular is squatting

on the named domain.

Ever and forever now embody the twins as
the world turns and we ***** through the uni

as Archemides primes the pump

What a rush. All that since the bluebird this morning according to my autobiography backup.
A year in the making honest
Vicki Kralapp Mar 2018
It’s past the time we take a stand
within the shores we call our own.
Our country split, beliefs held tight
though voices hushed by fellow man.

The crack of guns in troubled hands
have bloodied floors of learned halls
and made us cry in distraught pain,
to see our young ones die for naught.

But though the crimson stains remain,
its youth rise up against the tide
of those who seek to serve themselves,
and make us hide our heads in shame.

Join with the youth who take this stand
and choose to make their voices heard,
for they are what our future holds,
and make us face our blackened souls.
All poems are copy written and sole property of Vicki Kralapp.

Tribute to the student at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School in Parkland, Florida.
My
Four
Schiz(Zoo)phrenic
breaks
with reality
are
me

I can
-hear-
YOU

fluttering. . .
    fluttering. . .

birds communicating
        insects have emotion(s)

hear ~ravens
calling me

footsteps on the ceiling *

and you. . .
appear solid
I could've touched you.
I have had four complete hallucinations whereby everything was nothing real. The brain appears to open pathways that later in life open up without LSD leading to strange voices, shadow people, lights and auditory hallucinations.
Spenser Bennett May 2016
Wind laughs low tonight
Flays skin to the blood marrow
Keep listening, smile
The wind beats against my window in the night, seemingly mocking, seemingly spiteful, full of love, and infinitely caring all at once and then not at all.
Cray-Z...

You know that you are, *******, crazy?

Think up a new grand goal to meet,
then drop the blotter, -to compete.

Are you movin' on up?
to the top, to a deluxe compartment in your mi-ind?

Lenny?

Saul admired David...

"Admired,"

him.

dissolved him in, David.

You know that you are, *******, crazy?

Look at the hands, -they swirl in, ceiling paint...
Thinking like this the world is NO constraint.

Fuzzy
Futzy
Fickle
Fiber

Pick a pickle Whitley Streiber.

Gargle,
Gasp, rinse and repeat.

Then Devil for the Heaven's seat,
and find a tiny child to eat,
for tasty things water mouth with treat,
nothing stained by water's meet or tendered strangely as complete.

Crazy...

Carpet fibers tickle my neck.

I am a house.

Household item.

Bleach feels funny on the fingers,
they still won't change color back?

Think up a new grand goal to meet,
then drop the blotter, -to compete.
Then Devil for the Heaven's seat,
and find a tiny child to eat,
for tasty things water mouth with treat,
nothing stained by water's meet or tendered strangely incomplete.

Crazy you know that you are...

...is that wall supposed to be flashing?

!!!!GET OFF MY ROCKER!!!!
You cannot just dip a finger in the dark because darkness will not let you go. Are you sexually attracted to circumstance? Then I have something for you. Life is easily hardened....those that know, know me.
Leiser Poetry Mar 24
Cant bear to hear the voices;
dragging me down;
feeling the failure!
Voices mock me                                                               ­                    make me frown
nothing ever goes right:
want to keep on                                                               ­                     
with the fight,
be strong                                                           ­                                   
move on                            
with my life
there is something
that stops me when I
find happiness negativity                                                       ­             
cuts me like a fine knife  
anxiety makes me feel on edge;
paranoia makes me question
and sabotage everything
depression lowers me
to the point where I
feel lack of energy
or empathy any more
If anything I want                                                             ­                        to sleep in bed                                                              ­                           not feel this dread
I use to medicate
myself with beer
and pain relief
taking any medicines
I can get to feel no pain
To feel no shame                                                            ­                        
for the anxiety         
to go away
but it never went
only made me forget                                                           ­                   
the symptoms
the mania I get                                                              ­                          feel a hint of euphoria
but later irritated
over ****** and frustrated,
the world is moving too slow
Im obsessed and sometimes
delusional: the demons are smiling  
they've won the battle but not the war when they took over my mind; for a short while but since sophie was born
and my life almost thrown away
at the age 28 I decided to give life another go and work hard to live an cleaner life the best I can                                                              smile more even when I'm low be grateful                                        

I'm still alive and here
want to feel I have a bright future
now with a baby and boyfriend
that  loves and understands me
its hard sometimes

when you can feel the bad memories resurface,
negative vibes in my mind
hit me like a bullet or cut me like a knife
want to keep telling them not today
that I will not fall to their darkness and decay
that they can't beat me and that
I'm no longer a failure
but a fighter still here to tell her tale;
despite all the *******
and people grinding me down
over the years;
bringing me to tears
I tell myself each day that
I'm a fighter and I'm still here.
Wordfreak Mar 2017
I need to stop talking to you.

Because I tell the truth?

Because...

**Because you know everything I say is spot on. Because you don't like what you hear. Because you want to die, the only issue is that a bullet is too simple.
I talk to myself a little too much. It scares people. I talked through this entire thing out loud without realizing it, and turned to see a look of horror on my co-worker's face. He repeated it back to me almost word for word.
km Jul 2018
The voices in my head, brought me to this place
A gloomy surrounding, everything looking lifeless and sad
I question myself, “Why am I here?”
But as I look ahead, I see a beautiful mountain; covered in fluffy snow,
Almost looking like the clouds.
Now, I am yearning to see the mountain up close,
But how do I get to see the best view?
With no one around, not even animals
Who do I go for, for advice?

I continue to look and walk around,
Still clueless, not sure what has drawn me to go on this journey
“It’s only a mountain,”
I tell myself.
Trying to figure out where the voices in my head came from
My mind is blocked
Can’t think straight or
See clearly
Everything is a blur.

Could this possibly be a dream?
I continue on with this journey
Trying my best to find a way to get to the snowy mountains
Tired and lifeless,
I pass out in the middle of nowhere
Flashbacks start to come
You were the voice in my head
Your harsh words,
Harsh words that brought me into this dark place
Left me feeling helpless and burdened
I get up and try to find a way out

Here I am standing, standing where I began
Looking at the mountain,
From where I’m standing, I question myself:
“Which way do I go?”
There’s the stream
A stream that’s aligned with the mountain
And the mountains with a path cleared out
Directing me to the snowy mountain.

The voices in my head
Preventing me from moving forward,
Drowning me with sadness.
The longer I’m here,
The more it overwhelms me
I’ve got to get out of here.
based off a photo
Alaina Moore Sep 2018
Thing's that make me uncomfortable:

That feeling when you get mad at me,
because I didn't do the thing, you didn't ask me to do, cause I can't read minds; I'm not your parent.
That tone in your voice when you go off about how unfair the world is, triggered by the slightest setback.
The feeling when I sacrifice all that I am for the sake of your mood and happiness, in vain.
That sound of the exacerbated sigh when I ask you to run an errand, as if I am not also tired.
The pressure of carrying us both on broken legs.
The pit in my chest when I ask your opinion and you say "I don't care," but you actually do care, because whatever choice I make is laced in ridicule.
When you say you're doing something for me but you're just trying to make yourself feel better about doing it for yourself.
When you use my disorder as a justification or excuse, but when I actually need your help you seem burdened and annoyed.
That "okay then" moment when I give you everything you ask for and you take it as if you never wanted it.
"If love is a labor, I'll slave till the end." -Rise Against

"these words are knives that often leave scars" - Panic! at the Disco
Hush don't wake her, leave her in the quiet.
Hush don't wake her, it's the nightmares. Let her battle the internal riot.

Hush don't wake her, there is no longer any need.
Hush don't wake her, now she must take the lead.
Hush don't wake her, yes we have shown her this ledge.
Hush don't wake her, but, you see, she must be the one to walk over the edge.
(C) 2016
Traveler Jan 6
I asked the voice
Within my head
Why is this world
Turning red

The answer I heard
Within a sigh
Only the good
Are allowed to die

Once again
I asked the same
Pretending
This voice had a name

Dear Lord forgive me
Take me away
Suddenly
The voice
Had nothing
To say...
.........................
Traveler Tim


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UQWwvI41Eyo&start_radio=1&list=RDUQWwvI41Eyo
Lizzy Aug 2014
In between a dream
I heard your name whispered
In between reality
I had a scary trip

Brain scrambled
Consciously confused
I was in between

Mid sleep
I tremble awake
The voices have found me
In between my sanity

I have no more safe place
No more escape
The voices found me
In between
thesa Aug 5
i'm paralyzed
my eyes hurt and i can't stop
the voices inside my head

tell me
which sense does the cure have
when i was comfortable
in my insanity
Seek
Solution
Need
Restitution
When will
These people
Marked by
Color
And known
By grace
Have a voice
That isn’t only
A chorus
Medusa Apr 2018
love to go walking
in crazy times
so late at night
  wrap me up inside

delicious mist

not alone, I am
held tight by this fog
walking on a path
of many who pass

just ahead by a few
moments & brush
my skin in kisses
whispering:

"heart & soul
heart & mind
nobody ever
felt like we do
right now"

words heard out
on the path
I follow

who knows, who says
what or where we go
but such a joyful
misty

night we share

~a~
true story, except that if you leave at 12:30 am, it's really morning, but not in my mind, what sense does literal sense really make?
Logan Robertson May 2017
Voices In His Head

backwoods of his mind
birds and bees stutter blossoms
seeds of apathy grow

a lone dwarf rabbit
burrows under a bonsai
trunk's a beaten path

waterfalls to nowhere
life's knotted of shallow pools
voice ... go to deep end

Logan Robertson

5/20/17
Jaxon Thomas Jun 13
I write about
Singularity, and
Isolation
But I suppose the truth is
I'm not lonely.
In fact,
I can't get these
People, these
Devils, these
Voices
Out of my head,
Out of this slit
in my brain
Out of the back
of my mind.
I wake up
Only to find
My state gets
Worse
As they grind,
They dull its pieces
They feed
on its pieces
And the voices are
Booming
They're booming
And they just get louder
As the clock is ticking
and my ears are ringing
and my eyes are stinging,
and my head is spinning,
Yet those
Voices are
Still clinging.
The rope’s tied on the ceiling
Razors are by the tub’s side
Colourful pills inside the drawer
A loaded pistol is on the desk…
They've been there for weeks
Repeatedly calling my name
And I’m not sure if I am
Strong enough not to
Follow their voices
Hopefully they'll just go away
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