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Posted: 7/3/2008 6:38:29 PM |  Have to agree on this , J. my friend you make it so very easy to see every function of every possibility , within the Tree of Life! This makes you very special to me!
I will have to read it many , many more times. Yet it brings me diversity and tranquility! The perfect stuff life is made of ! Given by one soul , with a mind for All!
Hugs  | |
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Posted: 7/4/2008 5:34:52 PM | i thank you both.
the feedback is needed.
naive | |
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Posted: 7/4/2008 5:53:17 PM | (notes)
behavior! induced by
mental processes of thinking,
emphasis whereof is
mostly uncritical. how do we
thus describe, explain,
predict and thus change behavior
and mental processes?
stimulants whereof are predominantly
involuntary! have we imposed
our thoughts upon reality? if so,
what is this reality we
thus impose upon? do we
objectively analyze our
thoughts? do we objectively
scrutinize our feelings? or is
this a con? some fantasy
which we indulge in order
that we may beguile the
naïve! the means by which
existing knowledge, the
false believe therein, dwelling
upon passed experience, the
learning thereof are the
utilities of the present. what
does it mean, the word
OBJECTIVE? | |
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Posted: 7/4/2008 7:46:10 PM | Naive!....I have just read the one raising eyes...#1441...perhaps the most profound of all the writings you have placed here. An absolute GEM, a masterpiece of penmanship!
Kudos! Bravo! | |
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Posted: 7/4/2008 8:53:22 PM | | #1441 - timeless truth contained therein NW, to echoe Mandrake that was certainly a masterpiece! | |
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Posted: 7/5/2008 3:44:14 AM | Objective.... Striving to overcome a challenge
I'm writting this under the influence of Captain Morgan hopefully I make some sense :P
As a man with delusional thoughts I often wonder if I can overcome anything. Stress consumes my mind daily. Even if I fight it, it's still there lurking, tearing away my egotistical mind and thus I fail. If life is supposed to be fun, why's it full of misery? I can't even smile anymore in fear someone may betray me for being happy. If we all do not overcome our obstacles in our own lives, instead of playing around someone elses faults that is when Earth has no meaning to anyone and thus the failure for life for the human race. Makes you think why'm I here and who's these other people's problems with me. Answer: nothing but they're too scared to own up to their own faults
As I said I'm pretty hammered but it looks good so far | |
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Posted: 7/7/2008 10:01:25 PM |
if so,
what is this reality we
thus impose upon? do we
objectively analyze our
thoughts? do we objectively
scrutinize our feelings? or is
this a con? some fantasy
which we indulge in order
that we may beguile the
naïve!
all knowingly sitting
and watching
and observing
placing non-judgmental
judgment
on those that don't see so "clearly"
but upon looking at them
i see me
so what do I REALLY see?
as the vision changes
and life re-arranges
years later i may look at them
and see something different
or do i ever see them at all?
for what they are
is what I AM by far | |
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Posted: 7/7/2008 10:38:37 PM | can you hear
the sounds of the harps
are drawing near
singing voices
been here for days
come to lead the way
footsteps in the sand
I follow
I hear the whistle
a giggle
escapes my throat
I know it's you
I remember you
Is it indeed time
has it slipped away
for the last time
with peaceful thought
say goodbye
steps lead
me away
it is the color
I miss. | |
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Posted: 7/8/2008 8:03:58 AM | Perhaps the possibilities are endless,
More imaginative than our individual imaginations
Can conceive! Is it but a deferred dream?
Birthed by ancestors and expanded
By those who follow suit?
The pursuit of happiness,
Master inventors, the lost, the found,
The spiritual, the damned; all weave
Into this reality some form of possibility
Of how we can create or forsake.
The riddle of reality, the great con of here
And beyond or its truth
Criticized and revised by each
Generations’ youth
Every culture defining this reality
Through its own unique
Categories based on the concrete
Or the abstract that paint
So many different worldviews
Of the secular and the sacred, it’s truly amazing.
Outside of humanity, all other life forms find their own
Ways to be and strive and survive.
So many teachings of how we should
Behave in order to fly beyond the grave,
Is it just a construct to tame the naïve!?
Reality, a riddle revised, revolutionized,
And redefined.
An experience that must be taking place
Otherwise we couldn’t converse about
It’s existence, for I am sure it can’t
Be just a figment of my imagination?!
But imagination can define how reality will be
Defined.
Like an additional line added to a written rhyme.
A dream deferred plucked from time.
For energies sake, it could be nuclear.
If no one envisions anything better.
In fifty years cars could be prehistoric,
Fossil fuels a thing of the past
Imaginings can jump into reality quite fast.
Everybody’s path is so unique,
Whatever the soul years it shall seek
And we all battle like molecules
In a petrie dish to form the reality of our time
Collective actions that just add on to
The riddles and rhymes. | |
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Posted: 7/8/2008 9:27:02 AM | from the mind we have delivered ourselves
from the mind will come whatever next step
fossil fueled us , on the squashed memories
of dino and friends we ride
in 150 years from the speed of horse past the speed of sound
earthbound to moon walking
will water move us out into the stars , fuel the fleeing
would you stay if something better was in reach?
before you answer .. think again of where we are
on the edge of insignificance , curds in a milky way
if you knew worlds were waiting
would you still fear enough to stay
fearful?
or take that first halting step
off the flat edge of earth
into a living dream | |
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Posted: 7/9/2008 9:34:42 AM | i sat here, as i have time and again, reading and rereading every poem, every expression.
the subtleties always capture me. as i'm sure they do the same for us all. i thank you each for blessing my thoughts and creative abilities.
remain blessed,
naive!? | |
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Posted: 7/9/2008 5:06:57 PM | Naive,
Post 1441 finds myself thinking I am but a boy amongst Spartucus's Army, humbled by those around me but aspiring to their greatness.
Duke | |
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Posted: 7/11/2008 4:32:28 PM | | ^^^ i thank you. i am truly humbled. | |
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Posted: 7/11/2008 5:18:02 PM | joshua ....1441 sincerely a true masterpiece! I just read it again and my heart stands still to fathom the intensity and meaning! Truely one of your best my friend!
Only one ...many more in hand! I thank you again for this one!  | |
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Posted: 7/16/2008 7:04:52 AM | i thank you each for the beauty that you leave herein.
and i thank you all for the positive feedback. | |
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Posted: 7/16/2008 8:45:50 AM | as a boy
how do you think that Jesus fealt?
I ask you
with all the weight of the world
truly
on his shoulders
I"m sure that he wanted to be washed clean
of his suffering
before it even started
but God never departed
from his side
at times i'm sure he wanted to hide
but through 18 years of observation
he came to know peace and understanding
but of respect he was never demanding
he walked
and talked
of love
guided by God "above"
through every heavy step of water walking
he heard God talking
to him
and I do too
asking:
is it REALLY that much that I ask of you? | |
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Posted: 7/17/2008 10:59:30 PM | I never talked to God
it would be my luck to distract him and lose an eye
or a continent | |
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Posted: 7/21/2008 7:45:01 AM | So you reached me finally
I never begged a preacher man
As I sit
Kneeling
Wondering are you
Hearing me?
I’ve given you all my pain
Can you take it?
Or do I sing (without tune)
OH GOD
That brings us out so
Many surprises
Mere mortal calls em miracles
I should have learned to listen
To the first hiss
Never in his eyes
It was always the way
His mouth formed
The words
Breaking me into woman
I return the kiss
Close your eyes darling
Here I come
Happy Anniversary 2 us
I remember
THE
day am born | |
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Posted: 7/21/2008 10:33:55 PM | I saw God in the farmlands
Where the clover grew between the grass
I saw God's illumination in the eve
as my lover's stark white ass
In the miracles to which one can
only cry or laugh I saw God out there
in the farmlands growing between the hash
Between the riverbeds and bulrush
I saw him in the children joking without a care
Singing rock songs in the noonday rain
Waving hands up in the air. I saw God
amongst the gardens by the tractor in the fields.
I saw God gathered up by rough dirt hands
in the July recolt and yields. His peace was mighty
loud as gun shot, as the neighbor blasted
all within his sight.
His wife was lovin someone else
while he was sleeping late at night.
God was there amongst the jealousy
and ravenous within his rage
But I saw God out there I did
fully free while still encaged. | |
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Posted: 7/21/2008 10:45:02 PM | | ^^ you're too good girl....every write of yours just "does it"....captures so perfectly.... | |
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Posted: 7/21/2008 11:20:03 PM | That proves it J,
Canadian sh1t is better
I don't think i want to see God in a gun battle
bullets into butterflies,flame-throwers into flame broiled
I want to see God making stars or
pock marking the Moons face for a giggle
why would he need a glock?
or a wooden cross | |
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Posted: 7/27/2008 12:56:45 PM | words cannot capture the energy which inlarges the heart when i read these writes. it is a sudden but reconizable infusion of the spirit. i thank each of you for this. and know, i read them all. but i pause and think before i reply. sometimes for weeks. i love you all. how unusual it is to hear that.
naive. with satisfying reason. | |
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Posted: 7/27/2008 1:21:47 PM | At last!...I cry Eureka!
that I have found the truth...
while those around me cry
for my dellusion!
I have seen God
in humanity's failing,
yet the disbelievers call me mad!
In that moment,
shall I die of humiliation
or insanity?
I see my cross
burning! | |
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Posted: 7/27/2008 6:55:02 PM | | always a pleasure, mandrake... always a pleasure. and powerful impressions. | |
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Posted: 7/27/2008 6:55:23 PM | Try to love me,
The unfaithful dog that I
Am; for despite what I
Have possessed, I
Stand, here, holding my
Heart for sacrifice. I
Am but a man. How do I
Resist the glint of ecstasy!
How do I subdue the
Arrant soul in me! But here,
Awaiting death, I stand,
In spirit, the autobiography
Of vengeance. Embroil us
Not in the docudrama; but
Forgive unto my bleeding
Brain; make not our children
The victims of wildflowers;
Turn not our garden into
Acid soils. But I, man I
Am, subject to feminine
Acid rains. But a man I am,
Subject to irrigating the
Most sacred of wombs. I
Wanted not the average. I
Wanted royalty; women of
Prophecy; women that men
Die for; but and still, I
Return home, subject to
The autobiography of
Vengeance. Fault not the
Dimensions of lust. Fault
Not the devastation of my
Senses. I crumbled; thus I
Fukked her; I broke the
Womb; unto the illusion of
Satiation. But I’m a poet.
I awake where the misery
Lingers. I am no more than
A theory; no more than a
Thought’s perception; I am
The screen of man’s envisions;
The man upon women whore
For. But I return home, to the
Autobiography of vengeance.
Grant me mercy! For I came
Home to death. | |
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