a simple poem

Simple enough...like a Morrison tune.

you are too young!

you mean there are adventure games for the kindle??

succulent means???

re: smelling: no thanks to all three.

Too young? Please explain.

The kindling warmth in your heart as one realizes the adventure of eternity.

patterns of vibration, molecules, and frequencies of harmoniously structured fruit. succulent and juicy, nectar of heaven.

take in the universe
breath it in
rejoice

Thanks for taking the time to comment

It felt good to read that. :) Thank you.

I'm not sure if I like the sound of this eternity the adventure in which is full of !@#$.

nectars I have currently problems with.

I'm not taking in anything more until the next sorry binge.

re: explanation: I'm not sure, I was like that, you don't have experience to see the joker for the joker yet you tell me to smell the botched universe because the stink hasn't reached you yet.

re: thanks: you bet

lol

I enjoyed reading the prose you provided. Did you author the writing?

In all reality it doesn't matter who wrote it, because whoever did was very talented. It was nice to read. Thanks.

It's been awhile since I myself formed a set of words that rhymed with a rhythm that was able to keep a perfect beat. A part of my past already laid to rest. No more within my heart does the poetry sing.

Raised by the Borg (Test of Faith)
Common Venus shi(f)t edit
butchered from a post by *** 2012

a hastily scribbled edit.

born into out of all this world
in the whale depths of a civilized country
the "rebellion" or "God" hover over our heads
learnt to speak, read, write, use material objects, live a normal life
My life revolves around logical and conservative folk
We live a great lifestyle. We have current technology
Although, we are truthful, we are one, we offer everything for one another

Then I wake up...

To an enslaved world. Where no truth can be found.
There is no knowledge. I am fed stories. I am poisoned. I am trapped.

I am looking for direction.
I will never find a soul to guide me.
I am not supposed to be here.
I need help. I'm going to go insane. I don't want this anymore.

Life was so beautiful when I was asleep.

I will lay down one more time oneday.
It will be the last time I shut my eyes.
I will say `goodbye' and `I'm scared'.

Not so long that I can let go
and so let the pain go, some moments of wrong heavens
to live without sharing and caring for others.
I feel disconnected, but as one with humanity. What have we done?

I'm broken.
I can't be fixed.

Are we in hell? I really feel we are. Everything is not alright...

What a goofball.

Do you drink Fluoridated tap water?

Fucking awful, crawl back under your rock & read the instructions on a Tampax box for your nect piece of inspiration x

Co-sign

Oh do behave you snivelling waste of cock-snot :) x

can i have some

Your Dad & his friends will be home soon, ask them to share as normal eh ? x

old man hickey had a ten foot dicky and he showed it to the lady next door she thought it was a snake so she cut it with a rake and now it'ts only 2 ft 4

I did write it, the only talent though is merely listening. Thank you

take a trip
to the vista
past the mind
sound of gladden

rise from slumber
face the only number
embrace the humber

Perhaps. I am young, after all. Was born in the stink, live in the stink. As the energy mellows, and peer inside, the stink smells so good.



for what is truth
if one is told
reverse your eyes
you are the soul
all this time



Yes. Eat GMO, too.



Thank YOU

Last Edited by Au Aeon on 07/28/2012 11:11 PM

maybe, but then maybe not, maybe it's not my fault.
and maybe there are different levels of soul, and truth is a funny word when used in an off-hand manner

look what just fallen off the internets

by
P. M. H. Atwater cinemind.com

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . INNER VIEWING
I can only speak of what I see and know.
. . . . . . . . I cannot speak from knowledge and vision I do not have.
I hear your words.
. . . . . . . . I know their construct and form, but I do not understand
. . . . . . . . what you are saying.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . I cannot feel what you mean inside of me.
I'm alone a lot these days.
. . . . . . . . And in my aloneness, I have discovered the universe
. . . . . . . . inside me.
All I do shapes my pattern of response.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Patterns change.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . I change.
. . . . . . . . I'm beginning to see a different view of me.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Just beginning.
I feel sick inside sometimes when you speak to me like you do.
. . . . . . . . You sound so perfect, so all-knowing.
I come across like that sometimes too.
. . . . . . . . I can tell by the way people react to me,
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . but it's not true, though.
I deeply question all I believe, say and do.
. . . . . . . . I wonder about myself and my own perceptions.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . How do I really see what is before me?
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . How do I respond to life instead of always reacting?
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . How do I let go of the past? How do I find the future?
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . How do I be me?
My hell has been my mistakes, living with the results.
. . . . . . . . It's hard to live everyday with things you don't like.
So why do I do it?
. . . . . . . . Because it makes sense to.
It makes sense for me to learn from my mistakes, to see things
. . . . . . . . for what they really are, not as fantasies of my own
. . . . . . . . creation.
It makes sense for me to grow T H R O U G H myself and my
. . . . . . . . world, not over or around it
. . . . . . . . to face both my successes and my failures.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . I value being human.
Soon I'll be leaving.
. . . . . . . . It's almost time for me to go.
Before I move on, I want to touch you and look around once
. . . . . . . . more.
I want to take one long, good look.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . I want to know where I've been.

Note to self: (GLP would have you think there's nobody else eh. lol. Did I say nobody?)