Indistinguishable Poems | Examples

Impossible Art

Politics is the art of the possible
And of the impossible too
Politicians make you responsible
For all the bad things they do
The people from other countries
Despise you although they know
You’ve no power to finish this
Art of the impossible show
So you are a pariah nation
You are never an individual
It is you who waits at the stations
But still your train is not visible
It is you who’s no goal to achieve
Who is relentlessy condemned
It is you who should never be
Indistinguishable from them
Because politics is an art
Unfortunately, not a science
Every day makes a new start
Every week it’s a new alliance
Politics is the art of the possible
And of the impossible too
Should’ve been a museum fossil
But it’s not, cause one’s dreams come true.

No uncertain terms -Simply confounding-

Harsh asymmetrical contour following dislocated noncontextual departure.
Roaming, haphazardly choreographed with precise misaligned determination.
Mindfully staggering indistinguishable purpose, consistently in linear circumnavigation.
A matter of process, a state of perpetual traversal, saves from permanence.
The ad infinitum of specificity is quantum, the superposition allowing consistent continuity while indelibly transposing by observance. 
Redundant to its operation, yet necessary in its function. 
Leaving spaces unfiled by way of impetus, whilst evidently consiquential. 
Paradoxically self referential, pertinently inescapable ever presence.

WHOSE WILL BE DONE?

Between the blades of dewy grass
Mingle the particles of fresh dust
Their colour bleached to grey.


A bird descends and pecks for food,
Finding nothing it ascends today
Climbs higher than the trees, away.


Weeks go by without a soul
Tending the ever growing grass.


I chose that tranquil spot
For them to be blended in the soil
That many years before received
The bleached grey dust of her lover.


The years will effectively combine
Them in the soils embrace and then
She will be lost, untraceable,
Indistinguishable, shall become one.


My parent's will be done.

 

 

© Allen Ansell 2025

Come To See Me

How do you feel about me,
What prevails now - hate, or indifference?
Or I’m too dimmed to be seen
Indistinguishable at the distance
In case you would like to know
How do I feel about you
I can’t describe it, but I can show
If you would let me to do
But you don’t like to reply
Anticipating there’s nothing new
You’ll hear, and maybe that’s why
The TV and facebook have you 
Am I wrong, or right, if it matters
Tell me something you’d like me to hear
Before I get swamped with long letters
Come to see me, while we are here.

Sound Bites: May 10, 2024

If true
that old age
is but a bad habit …
 what can youth become

_____

Divorcing passion
from intellect
Two orphans 
created
Homeless together
— inside of one soul

_____

If you want
to be free
First
be a prisoner
A captive
of prescience
An inmate
— of self

-------

Contradiction …
a privilege of freedom

--------

Knowledge is a prison
— and freedom its bars

--------

The pedantic 
philosopher
Indistinguishable
— from the fool

(Dreamsleep: May, 2024)

Within

Within

Within the stillness, faint echoes of sounds can be heard 
Late night hours, grappling with what is real and the absurd
Hearing indistinguishable voices, conversations overheard 
Perhaps just a past memory, lost subconsciously interred 

Within the darkness, where all your senses come alive 
Clashing with all your fears, deepest emotions revive
Blackness surrounding you, a light thumping arrives 
Awakening your heart, kindling your strength to survive 

Within the amber light, first light begins to appear 
Twilight upon you, your dreamscape interferes 
All memories of your dreams suddenly disappear 
Eyes adjusting to the light, mind becoming clear

Within that moment, both clarity and confusion begin
Your thoughts and emotions emerge to your chagrin 
Those questions and queries making your mind spin
All of these take you on your solemn journey within

The Internet

A man-made lake,

The surface shimmers like glitter in the sun,

Idyllic surroundings boast of trees and grass,

The water is clear, crystalized with perfect visibility.

A near-perfect replica indistinguishable from a distance,

Only when you draw closer can you see its imperfections.


The water is shimmering but, with vanity and filter,

The trees and grass are hiding violence, hate and the death of culture,

The lakebed is a window into humanity’s desire

The simultaneous picture of perfect beauty and of fire.


To auto-generate your surroundings is to live a second life,

One by choice and by addiction designed for fight or flight,

Using our impulses against us to conquer and divide,

Protecting us from thoughts coming ‘from the other side’


This illusion of a safety net draws us into harms way,

Learning our behaviors, our triggers and politics

As we feed it everyday

Never before has it been more relevant to question our free will,

Is it us or the machines that are ordering us to kill?

Unity

Unity is not a mass of indistinguishable voices all making the same claim.

Unity is a city where poets write and craftsmen create and warriors hone their skill.


6 October 2023

Communication Is Key

"Communication is key", they said. 
But this key,
Once turned in... 
...Opens the door full of 
Fearful experiences,
Humiliation and 
never ending dreadful thoughts. 

Yet the sense of uncertainty, 
Still prevails. 
It fills the gaps in my mind and heart, 
With thoughts so varied, 
Yet, indistinguishable they stay. 
This doubt still pertains, 
In an endless, haunting loop. 

This door shall never be opened. 
A profound decision, I must say. 
Let the world collapse, 
Let the war commence... 
My resolve remains. 
This door shall never be opened. 

"Communication is key", they said, 
But please, oh god, please, 
Let that key, 
Be forever hidden.

Shadowalker

Darkness has been the guide,
    Staying hidden from the light.
Finding shade to its comfort,
    Indistinguishable from the night.

Its reflection may be cast from
    A simple point to an ending long.
With a cooling disposition,
    Removing heat from the strong.

Often sharing an invincible background,
    To any shape or numerous form.
As it attaches to any mass and
    Avoids the harshest storm.

The cycle of time grants immortality,
    To the constant light where it renews.
Staying behind the walls of substance,
    Lurking to avoid all the views.

Myrtles In the Mist

Myrtles in the mist
Sunlight streaming in
An ethereal presence
A rainbow of tapestry
Little light purple star flowers
In the ink green darkness
At the heels of the eucalyptus woods

A lavender lullaby, wordless
Bluebonnet faces shady with sleep
A hum of a psalm that is all life throbbing
Earth in constant motion
An ocean cradle rocking for centuries
Apocalypse forever renewed
When dew becomes jewel
And frost sews its lace

A crochet of vines
Embroidery of mosses and flora
Scent and sound
Fragrant rustling of the eucalyptus
On the salt-sea breeze
Swept off from the dunes
The last twinkle in the dusk

Quiet flower heads lie in wait
Of some ancient memory
That may never exist
For some long-forgotten harmony
And heartbreak
Washed in on some far-off shore

When the mist of the morning
And the mist of the dusk
Are indistinguishable
When both command and instill
A hush and halt
A mind-clouding gas
Mesmerize and harmonize

Some mists are eternal
Some a passing glance
Emotions and myrtles go hand in hand
The mists are the spirits of the earth
Myrtles are a lullaby
The evening prayer that glows within.

Big Man

Big man walks easy 
Owns everything he looks at
Turn his big eyes and his big head and says nothing
Because he doesn't have to
Big man walks with a hitch in his step
Because he is giddy with his owning
I have forgotten how to access my voice
I am so adept at saying nothing that when I do speak it has become indistinguishable from silence 
Big man is my brother
So I coddle his unruly
Big man is my father
So I forgive him untethered
I am afraid of how loud my voice gets and still goes unheard 
I am weary from not owning anything
Not even my body
I am ever startled by the sound of my own voice
It is not mine, it's his
It is plucked and seashell necklace
It is used against me until I uncle
Big man crosses the street without looking
He knows I will stop for him
Knows the concrete of his forehead is bang enough for anyone's buck
He slows down as he walks past me
Tilts his big head in my direction
And grins, eaten worlds

The Conqueror Worm

Of course, all straights are bent
our rotary motion

the further back we travel in
space, the greater the arc
apparent

even our words are subject to gravity

inclined toward earth, absorbed
long before eternity

some mine for jewels
I uncover the promises kept
and unkept...lies and truths
compacted to indistinguishable
masses – buried

with the bones of those who spoke them
absent lips and breaths

but a disgruntled grave digger I am not

just an insatiable book-worm

regurgitating my volume of Poe

Galaxy

this was supposed to be final
as if it were the last text
whispered in a confessional tone
but i know there's more
so many instances within us
galaxies of an unknown universe
when i was a kid there was a well near the house
I was amazed that the water never stopped rising
down there it looked dark and scary
but when the water came up in the metal buckets
it was fresh and crystal clear
if only I could do this with thoughts
but what seems accurate and lucid inside me
emerges indistinguishable
like the confused remains
from an ancient shipwreck

One and the Same

love's much more than an incredible feeling
a chemical reaction
an imaginary wish
or a synonym for lust
it is also a gentle, intimate touch
a shared memory
a hope
a spiritual bonding of hearts and souls
and a gift from God

it's like a silent promise
that goes unspoken
and yet gets heard nonetheless

a dream dreamt within a dream
love affects the human heart
mind and soul

God is love
love is God
they are interchangeable
and indistinguishable
from one another
for they are one and the same


(Suzette Prime)


2/1/2021


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