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. what is a poem
? something made of words
? something that rhymes
, that meaning herds
? together for a greater cause
? if there was ever such a thing
..but really
, what is a poem
? what is the poetic
? maybe something above
- something greater
- than life
..a story
. an illusion
. and yet the only truth
. a vision
. and anything can become a vision
! an experience can be shared
! a hope
, that we can become one
; if for only a moment
, in this ever
-changing world
! that doesn't make a single sense
~that doesn't last
, if not cradled in words
- embraced by meaning
. drowned inside it's own flesh
, and bone
, and words
, like birds
, together reach
; a new land
! and not each his own
!!but one uncharted
, where alone
, no one can see
- can find
- set foot upon
; but through a poem
..maybe
, just maybe
! poems
. the poetic
, is a vessel
! a dream
; given form
, to carry the weary traveller across the styx
! and getting back is easy
, just like waking up
! but you see
, a poem is needed
-to reach this land
! it is the screen
, through which you see
! it is the earth
, on which you stand
! it is the sea
, which you have voyaged through
! it is the boat
, and I
, and it is you
! the sadness
, or the bliss you feel
..that
, and so much more
, a poem is
? something made of words
? something that rhymes
, that meaning herds
? together for a greater cause
? if there was ever such a thing
..but really
, what is a poem
? what is the poetic
? maybe something above
- something greater
- than life
..a story
. an illusion
. and yet the only truth
. a vision
. and anything can become a vision
! an experience can be shared
! a hope
, that we can become one
; if for only a moment
, in this ever
-changing world
! that doesn't make a single sense
~that doesn't last
, if not cradled in words
- embraced by meaning
. drowned inside it's own flesh
, and bone
, and words
, like birds
, together reach
; a new land
! and not each his own
!!but one uncharted
, where alone
, no one can see
- can find
- set foot upon
; but through a poem
..maybe
, just maybe
! poems
. the poetic
, is a vessel
! a dream
; given form
, to carry the weary traveller across the styx
! and getting back is easy
, just like waking up
! but you see
, a poem is needed
-to reach this land
! it is the screen
, through which you see
! it is the earth
, on which you stand
! it is the sea
, which you have voyaged through
! it is the boat
, and I
, and it is you
! the sadness
, or the bliss you feel
..that
, and so much more
, a poem is
Untitled
Passivity is an ugly way to say Release and Activity is a pretty way to say enslavement . The Many Worlds are Pictures made by Spirals made by Patterns Free Yet Bound by simulated Chaos Imprinted just as much through this - their Order - then of their absence . Just as am I
here comes the air vehicle~!
I write to myself. calculating what I can allow him to feel when there's so much fear, so much disconnect between the actual events of this life and the person that has tumbled through them and so I write he has been depressed for a long time. alone in that cage the key- left to rust in the corner so it was always up to me trying to do something. feeding him spoonfuls of emotion to get us through the day hoping he wont drown it seems that's all I ever did. careless, inhumane, gay and terrified the purest SIN incarnate I am all that and more so I fear. perhaps one day he will look up fear in his eyes unable to utter a word and in reply, I'll do what I always have - I am a bubble and fear I will burst what does it matter I know it's the same for you just let me rest if there is a meaning to this I'll help you find it so for now.
Journaly10 - Context, Essence, and Tea
no matter the context, things are what they are-
at least their essence is.
love is love, pain is pain
wrath is wrath and comedy is comedy.
if there's a vast discrepancy,
that means someone has prioritized his perceived context over the essence.. something often times unavoidable, but dangerous
as the two are bound together,
and to view just one of these sides is foolish..
life hangs in the balances, between the different versions of reality, between all the contexts we decorate our seasonal trees with. without context the essence might just be a pretty tree, but it is harder yet to shut your eyes to the essence. at that point all you
Ninth Journal: NaPoWriMo WaS AweSoMe - my 30 works
the title says it all!!
by the time I noticed it was National Poetry month, and everyone was uploading daily poems, I was also in daily-uploadation mode; I was also little more than a month away from my university deadlines (which are still steadily approaching, inching closer by the day...). I still took the chance to jump on this train, and started writing and uploading daily, sometimes two works in a day! ..and somehow, I managed to complete all 30 works!! here are they:
(you don't have to read all these, just enjoy the titles and if one catches your interests, please check it out ;~)
week 1:
Esme ~ in a world of Agape
Economic Philos
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