Best Filters Poems

charcoal grey horizon~
on the rusty cast iron bench 
my old self sits in pensive mood
beside the lake beneath December sky
the wayward wind as it teases my hair 
whispers melodies from long ago~
that breath echo in the air

the echo reverberates ~
weaving fragments into vivid voices
and symphonies...

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The melody gradually filters
Through my being 
Filling my soul with joy
I go with it savouring, anticipating
It’s genius – no other thoughts enter
Just floating with the melody
Surprised by some discords they startle me
Prepare me for the majesty of sound to come...

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Through
the trees
at sunset-
a tunnel of
light....

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It creeps up on me early morning
and again late afternoon
a microcephalic shadow,
almost the length of a football pitch,
Land of the giants view

My childlike head is miles 
away and dwindling,
constantly deflating 
Proteus syndrome echoes 
back through generations
crossing time zones too

Elongated diffraction
casts a very long shadow,
tapering reality
Low...

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I awoke into a sea of stars. No filters between our souls. Like a rabid sensation of time past forth. Melodies from your fingertips echo within, as the vibrations solidify the end of laws.  
Within this eternity we float endlessly, tumbling through unpaved desires....

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Why hide beauty behind snapchat filters?
Truthfully it's worthless
I was beautiful before the snapchat filters became a thing
So why hide your true beauty under snapchat filters?
I mean is it to hide behind lies?
Snapchat filters are fun though they hide the beauty of a person
I mean sure...

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It visits the mind
Here in my bed where I rest my bones
It meanders through the avenues
Bypasses and fly overs
These thoughts of love
Here in my bed with me.

The mind like a sieve
Filters the moments and the fun
That I have shared.
It separates the hard times
Letting the good...

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Eloquence and dissidence 
merge as one in my defense~

Open eyed, too blind to see, 
the root of my Divinity~

The sleepers shuffle in the dark, 
searching for their hidden spark~

Eyes turned out, they do not see, 
the now that owns reality~

Proving ground for all their fears,...

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lenses bigger than faces
trying to capture
something beautiful they say
its like dripping ice cream cones
like sticky August
like they say its vintage
brown coffee filters
on treasure maps you drew
in second grade
why don’t you pose more they say
like stop crossing your legs
like you couldn’t survive in the city
like your...

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Rolled up tobacco, 
Left over filters,
That life,
Yeah I'm guilty, 
But you know, 
At least I'm still me,
If you haven't understood,
You'll still understand,
Question though..
Have you shook hands
With hope?
Hoping about cope,
How will you?
Could you have?
Nah, maybe ..
Yeah I could see it,
But you didn't,
Did you?
Oh wow,
Oh no,
It's getting...

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bull monster slumbers on the soft cloud of life
without stress or concerns, with no kind of stife.
his mama gave him the assignment all bull monsters want.
he rolls in his dreams, and his lips give a grunt.

does bull monster ever come down here? Asked my boy.
no,...

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Suppose I threw it in your faces


Please don't anybody asked of me to decided anything, I am not in the mood to explain:
I do not know if Mr. Trump is running or not, or if he is too old, that he might stumble and fall...

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Memories form in colors
vibrant, vivid, varied
by Time diminished
as the echo filters reality

Each person's process unique ...

Echoes form organically
Desires, wishes, dreams,
hopes, aspirations, schemes,
inclinations, rationalizations,
attracted to then reflected off
Life's hardened surfaces
Discordant reverberation
increasing, subsiding,
in constant flux colliding,
with reality abiding ...

Perceptions construed
from the magnitude of 
echoes merging as one...

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It starts with a hum,
a thread unspooling through silence -
soft, sure, and annoyingly insistent,
like the world is whispering
secrets it’s dared me to misunderstand.

The first echo hits,
ricocheting off the walls,
and suddenly this isn’t just a room -
it’s a kaleidoscope of sound,
a ripple of moments reborn,
sharper, louder,
more...

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The Ohio wipes its face every few miles.
This bend in the river
forgets the wharfs, the gravel silos
and power plants,
only occasional coal barges 
push an industrial flatus before them.

Here cattails gather herons
into measured dominions.
The river gallops under placid waves
Fish-eyed currents dip and toggle
in the ripple.

It is...

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