IN THE AWARENESS OF
REAL LIFE HERE ON EARTH
Try not to let your
Inner nefelibata
Blind real life from you:-
Be in awareness:
Today’s earth canvases
Herds of distortion:-
An uneven surface tinged with black,
rigid lines absorb all surrounding light.
Traces of elegance, ceased—
consumed by rage and sorrow.
A distorted reflection trapped in time,
eternal sadness, unable to breathe.
Frozen fragments of intelligence,
eyesore, nerves strained, vivid pulses.
Vicious nails tinged with green,
untamed, overflowing emotions.
Black dress bearing burdens of its widow.
Helpless and alone in a forgotten reality.
Intense passion,
trapped in a state of distraught,
the fallen muse taken hold by grief,
lost, and abandoned.
As the world grows distorted and unsorted,
Guard your heart from gathering and hoarding.
Stay grounded in truth, separating the lies,
Seeking and asking for wisdom that steadies and clarifies.
Why be concerned with transparency
People are blind, they really can’t see
With distortion and illusion in the word today
And bias and lies in what people say
Just be who you are, one of a kind
The truth will totally blow their mind
They’ll be so confused trying to figure you out
Their miscalculations will still leave them doubt
They’ll still try to mold you and make you conform
For uniqueness to them is the start of a storm
The fullness of creation will never be complete
If we all march together to one single beat
No one can truly know all of another
The closest possibility would be one’s mother
Lost in this Little, big world
Of nightly sweats
I see a road sign that diverts
My attention to swerve
Away and Wake up
From the Reality around me ...
I just need a break
From it all, for awhile
My eyes cross as I reach
For the Blue something or other
Ahaed of me
I stop time for real this time
Because it’s my time, me time
To be real but not really
Because I feel like I’m dreaming
With my eyes wide open
And everything seems so strange
Around me as if
God is trying to get my attention
Somehow
And for some reason everything
Smells like plastic
Leaving a metal aftertaste in my mouth ...
I hear music in the distant clouds
And my stomach rumbles like thunder
Perhaps I’m hungry for something new
Something different
Where the earth beneath me is putty
Sucking me in and averting my attention ...
Reminding me
I am Grateful to be Alive.
Living in pain every day is hard to concentrate looking at life distorted
In dreams, I’m where the music plays.
I’m listening to the laughter, like it’s in another room.
My drink is dark, bitter and oaky tasting
and the peanuts taste like soap.
There aren’t any napkins.
Others are lines of light and shadow.
I feel an anxiety that I gnaw on,
like a dog works a bone.
My dream’s conflating memories.
Suddenly Lisa’s there,
she comes up from behind,
“Aww, your tag is sticking out,” she says,
but before she can fix it,
I hear tower bells.
It’s my alarm.
.
.
Webster: Conflate: “to blend or bring together.”
an invisible ring shining ~ distorting reality beneath
They kill for their namesake
Blinded with visions of righteousness
Mirrored with images of self
Sanctifying, with daggers plunging deep
Crowds gather in loyalty
Massed in fear, assembled in hatred
Adherence to dogmas of a farsighted kind
While master deceivers bloom like orchids
Silence though not without noise
Peaks of my brain waves
Dancing through the walls
I am one but never alone
Connection without permission
Throughout my home
How to stop this manipulation
The guidance and helping hands
How to free myself from you
When you connect to every strand
Time to be reborn
To start afresh
Escape from this web
And the nets that connect
Will you come with me angel
And guard me with your heart
To an energy of purity
Wisdom peace and love
This distortion I reek of
Is seeping
Its not under control
Im forced into believing this bed is too big for the small room
That the walls of this small room is a way of containing the things I hold
Maybe if my hands weren’t heavy with the burden of myself id be able to see past this small room
The room wasn’t always so small
I was not laid into the room the second I was born
But I somehow built these walls compulsively
I thought it would hide all the things I didn’t want anyone to see
If I keep painting over the scarred walls no one will notice the exist of their presence
If I mend the cracks you won’t be able to see how disproportionate everything is
I hope you’ll see past the roof caving in
Or the water damage from nights of my tears
The messy clutter from my anger
Stains from my mistakes I didn’t bother cleaning
If you can see past all of these flaws maybe you can see me
And save me from the deceiving distortion I’ve built
And the hollowness of it all
Thud
This thing born of breath and bone,
Seated on its secret throne,
A harbinger of ignition,
Pulling us from our perdition.
Thud
By the dream and the waking,
Anger ripe for the taking;
It reaps the spite from our minds.
By moon and star, flesh it grinds.
Thud
Distortion: its holy blade.
Singing songs of pain and rage
Wrought of mortal blood and steel,
Hefted high with fervent zeal.
Thud
The power of death endowed
While the thunder rolls throughout
This keen five-minute crusade.
In finale, the sin fades
Thud
The Metal cannot be stopped.
Born from those who rolled and rocked
It’s darkness: a warm embrace.
Rage released, a swift escape.
Thud
Thud.
And pounding, my heart feels the pull of the music, and it knows that it is free.
Your love for the truth
Awake and arise with eyes,
Wet in a fleet moment’s worth
Open, to see bewildering skies.
A loud sigh cry in you to renew
places where the search begins.
With glimpse of tears that drew
the coldest pondering inklings.
Discerning fear alone in despair
With bleeding hearts crumbling
with the torn war atmosphere
That has lost all means for living.
Truth hurts like the fire of words
Mindful furnace in many parts,
Circumstances changing worlds
Into shadows of unpleasant arts.
In awe, we are drifting far away,
Further from a state of humanity
Down into the bloodiness of decay
Where truthful reality is cold enmity.
My cataracts are common and very aggravating
I’m told everyone over forty has them,
They certainly are on the optic nerve grating
By distorting and causing my vision to dim.
Trying to watch a movie is certainly frustrating
As faces are contorted and scenes become grim
While blinking often my eyes are adjusting
And tears are flowing from my eyes’ outer rim.
written November 9, 2021
I'm walking down these worn and weary roads
Full of heartbroken souls and hoppin' toads
And I've been told there is a place for us all
Once tyranny falls
The skies are bleak and black
The roads are tarnished and cracked
A forgotten legacy of a time long passed
Which we struggle to look past
The tornadoes tore through the city
Showing not even the elderly any pity
Rich or homeless they all died the same
In nature's greatest shame
So I'm walking down these roads alone
Wondering if we'd have time to atone
For the things we've done in this life
When it's been riddled with tears and strife
I'm just one among the lost and lonely
But perhaps the worst part is knowing they're not the only
Ones giving in to the sadness and disease
This is a reality that only death can ease
(Me, Circa 2014)
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.