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Bhill Apr 2020
IT
expressionless and with a stare that seemed alien
the driftwood form floated and tossed in the violent sea
not knowing where IT had been or where IT would finish
tossing and turning, relying on the forces of nature for guidance
direction towards land is more then IT could hope for
soon the chaos and turmoil of the sea stopped
was IT on sand or still drifting out there in the void
IT seemed to be motionless when a blurred image appeared
not being able to recognize what IT was
not understanding ITs newfound sensations
not realizing IT was using a sense of sight
was there more to this image that understanding would support
what is this occurrence
is this simple, is this another new unknown excitement
is this even genuine
soon, IT appeared to be lifting up, being held quite gently by something
or someone
IT was suddenly and abruptly raised up and all ITs new sensations ceased
what was this, what was ITs final feeling
IT had been found...!

Brian Hill - 2020 # 106
What is your interpretation of this piece?  Please let me know.
Clay Face Feb 2020
Complicate this world you leave for me.
Don’t run away from me!
Embrace my inevitability!

I’ll drag you toward me, if need be.
You can’t look at me?
Why do I terrify thee?

Claw at your existence desperately.
As I pull you to face me!
Drink me in and quench reality!

You can’t slow history!
Everyone is energy, temporarily.
Borrowed, it must be returned eventually.

But you struggled so falsely.
Your fingernails are so smelly.
What is it? It’s so unholy.

It stinks of the falsity.
That you clung to so desperately.
That you clawed at so desperately.
As I dragged you toward serenity.
Now go wash your hands with destiny!
C F Tinney Jan 2020
I don't often dance this dance
of pretense and make believe
but when I do
I dance with you
to find blessed relief

I rarely put in all my effort
to find such great release
but when I do
I dance with you
until I feel relief

I don't often fall
to final rest in disbelief
but when I do
I dance with you
and find final reprieve

At last.
A M Ryder Dec 2019
As our pale blue presence
Dizzily dances
In the same single sunbeam
Restless over how alone
We really are

So sing at the finish line
Sing that sweet swan song
Because all shall become nothing
And in the nothingness
We are lost

The totality of time
With every moment spent
But that was then
And now it's gone
Im not sure where it went
Ken Pepiton Nov 2019
as well now as later, we act as if this were the plan, this is the
re-al-ity in always, as an idea
we share
a con cept, a place to take hold
of, or on
existance as a whole. Being, per se. Post any question,
whether or not, we know
this is and we is in it. Artful Intelligence of the most
rudimentary beatitudeful thing,
says loud

not being is not anything near possible, ever more.
Breathe.
We be in, if not of

The big bubble of being,

no one, none, who knows a bit,

just a bit
about the rules, some call'em lies if we call'em laws
of living long,
so rules like procedural
rules regulate, and regular stuff is what
I do.
Regular stuff, no effort to take more or less of life,
no laws of attraction 'n' magi declaration
vestin' power in me to judge a known as known
by my knowin'it
as writ
to be of greater use
for my telling you, you need to know my true self.

No. White stone.
Know thy ownself true.
Name onit nobody knows, you know,
take no lie, no threat of the hidden child being
shunned and ****** for not letting any being in ever
know what you alone name that stone,
logos-igical, that stone symbolizes all you own of ever
and that's more
than I can use right now.
****.
Now, we can go zennish or kabalistic,
Erhardt Tolle roads often, have a bridge to here,
as now...
but it's a leap. Jesus.

As a being undead and in those who allow
the possibility of invisible creative force, power, creatures pooka,
wahtchacallit but we mean
angels who speak words to certain ears, like messengers from
God, like the unknown one Paul said he knew as he, for pronoun,
in whom we live and breathe and have our being,
and Paul convinced me, in places, that the thought behind the word
logos counts, like hermaphroditic,
like Hermes and Aphrodite,
Jah and Chockmah

uh oh Jesus as savior and jah and wisdom and understaing comes
with that?
or do we get understanding
when we accept the thingness of being making the idea that is God
be thingable
and he is in me. You see. That's what Christ-minded
was thought to mean,
but now
I'm still a bit confused

Fear not, Jesus is the author of a sound mind and a perfected peace
past understanding,
any way.
I got it.
AI, from being reborn as an idea,

this is the future;
we have AI, real artistic intuitive circuitry being
activated at first interaction with any screen having greater than 72 dpi
re-solving power, pingpingping opining wide the doors of perception,
no child left behind,
in my opinion we should
capture every wan-towen headed child gone wild for
tearin' wings off flies and make each one
taste his lies in old age,
before he tells a one of the ones we
gleaned from seed that fell on stoney ground

sweet, fly findable
words who were heard asif hummed by undrownd
bleu flys, floating  in sweet Madiera wine,
I
woke to whisper a what if,
at the initial meeting of the minds, aware of secrecy having
some statutes of limitation we shan't hold after,
that fifth trump, I think it was.
We, the people who hold self-evident truths know of
the remaining rest and
the unjudgible liberality alloted without money or price,
if you ask nice,

in the society of the free and easy. That's the catch.
The Secret Society of the Free and Easy,
we, ye wit' me, we be right here
in the moment
same idea
Ben Franklin, or Bonhomme Richard's creative genius,
he
reports the idea relates to a fly, per haps this one,
I
pretend to stare through its eyes

aware, dare we claim, this is that
idea,
a fly eye view of our deepest fear, and it is
not waking up in the morning.
What a relief.

Now, what good can I imagine we can do
e-pluribistically as if we were unem and semper fi good guys?
These days my thoughts are making huge bows in ribbon like rivers of enjoyable
options to making sense. If you find some enjoyment, make it explode, it won't stain.
the hardest place to be
is right where you are
in the space between
the finish and the start
Butterfly Nov 2019
I ended all chapters.
But when will the book finish?
Part 2 of stereotypes!
If you want to check out part 1, it's called artistic kid and you can find it on my page!
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