A curtain call for the observer,
A stage made from spruce wood,
silence echoes, speak no evil.
It’s showtime.
What is this
What is this place?
An infinite chamber,
Controlled chaos,
No longer bounded by constraints,
mine, and mine alone.
This feels weird
There are universes beyond my own.
How is this possible?
What are they thinking,
Tell me your secret.
This feels wrong.
Pure consciousness, it’s too much.
There’s so much to conjure,
Raging thoughts, decaying inward spirals
Center stage, vulnerable in the spotlight.
Why do you torment me
I think, therefore I am.
I am extraordinary.
I am not just the greatest mind in the universe,
I am all of them.
If you are all of them,
then so am I.
Xmess
(cross it
out of mind
later.....xmess
means.....otherwise
controlled.....chaos ordered
shopping seasons.....programmable
social statistic inherent in.....consumer cultures
bordered by arithmetical limits.....with respect changing times
affecting billionaire and trillionaire profits.....creating consumer xmess debt)
stan sand
Scene in small fragments scattered in abundance,
not two shapes the same, yet alike.
I set my search for the perfect answer,
though it rests before my eyes is unrecognizable.
Mindset of controlled chaos, gains are all of nothing,
my choices abound, opaque in a crystal clear world.
Yet choices must be made, success or failure await,
expectations have become deep as a dry river bed.
In my assembled frame work I feel safely embraced,
this the easiest path, is now lost.
Yet the search continues,
in winning, what is the gain, the end is known.
As the quest ages pieces join, regardless of my choice,
parts fit together complex in their simplicity.
I search now for voids, not visions,
my never ending puzzle of life.
Robert Gene Stoner Jr
Free Verse
8/11/15
What's going on here
Something feels way off
Barely keeping a grip
This is controlled chaos
Everyone is running
In different directions
They can't get far
Alarms sound on detection
With it's sensative sensors
The secondary defense's
They tripped the alarm
So very relentless
Someone has slipped by
But they won't stay lost
We will catch them
This is controlled chaos.
You patience will be tested
To their very limits
We must maintain control
The people are livid
So show no fear
Be ready to take action
Stay in control
Observe their reactions
They won't gain upper hand
Win control make their claim
If you keep your composure
We'll do the same
Then you can leave
Find a pillow to lay on
Exhausted from maintaining
Controlled chaos
Written. 2-23-19
I am a poet whose words mean nothing to someone,
And everything to someone else.
I am the noises at night that cause you to pull the blanket up
To your nose.
Mysterious, dangerous.
I am blue water cascading down a rock face made from
Music.
Psychotic in the brain,
And sane in the the heart.
I am death’s fingers grasping your soul,
Doing the devils dirty work.
I am controlled chaos,
Beautiful pain,
And heartfelt lies.
I am summer breeze blowing through your bones.
I am happy memories,
Of a lost one.
I am joy that races through your veins,
And strikes you in the heart.
I am art,
Etched into my skin.
I am secrets,
Of scary people.
I am the imagination,
That books bring.
I am a silent guardian,
A watchful protector,
A dark knight.
"Why then, O brawling love, O loving hate,
O anything of nothing first create!
O heavy lightness, serious vanity,
Misshapen chaos of well-seeming forms,
Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick health,
Still-waking sleep, that is not what it is!"
William Shakespeare
A true story of love's controlled chaos
Appearing invisible in the eyes of mind
Yet, such magical taste the soul experiences!
This constant change, shapeless provisions
A cold fire floating on skin.
Love has the power to lead a spirit to eternity,
Love can also cause the greatest disaster.
Timeless moments, listening to silence
Knowing how to build each stone to cover
Broken distances,
But your sun and your moon are both silver
As the paradox of love evokes the uniqueness
Of each soul.
Feelings floating like open secrets
In a world that you own and you lose,
Choosing to walk the paths of a bittersweet temptation.
The road may wind up to Heaven, may drive you to Hell,
But the point of departure always is the same.
This little giant is coming with a definite possibility
Of losing the war in your own court.
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