Long Self awareness Poems
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Thoughts On Infinity
Infinity comprises that endless empyrean reach of a
True continuous nature far beyond mankind’s ability
To truly comprehend and appreciate the sheer magic
Of the true enchantment and beauty of Almighty God’s
Kingdom of everlasting peace, love, and devotion.
Infinity is beyond all time, space, matter, and destination.
It is bounded by a mystical aura of a true divine cosmic
Perfection created by the heavenly design and intention
Of God Himself as He has made His revelatory overtures
To each of us for our eventual spiritual transformation.
Infinity oft bespeaks stark images of an endless cosmic vortex,
Punctuated by planets, stars, black holes, comets, and star dust;
When it realistically may be more of a perfected state of a true
Self-awareness and an accentuated level of consciousness that
Transcends mankind’s finite level of reality and understanding.
One day when each of us reach the end of our mortal coil on
This Earth, we shall, in turn, make that final storied leap to the
Heavens as our souls begin their cosmic ascension to God’s
Kingdom, and shall arrive at their ultimate state holy bliss into
The embrace and eternal love of Almighty God Himself.
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved
August 29, 2018 (Quintain)
I'm going through my morning routine
still at least half asleep,
pondering what was I pondering?
while preparing morning meds
and showering my daughter,
helping her dress,
filling her snack pail
for her long school bus ride,
changing my son's overnight diaper,
lotioning ashy skin,
tying shoe laces,
hers, mine, ours,
feet walking onto the bus,
hooking all four corners of her safety harness
and walking back toward our house
thinking
I've been up for an hour
and now I'm ready to begin my day.
What was that first hour?
Its quality of dream
heading toward future investments
in life as more full consciousness.
Consciousness of a different dream?
A different sense of identity?
A different quality of life fullness
in contrast to dreamy half-consciousness,
on back to less than half,
and then the alarm clock
too quickly buzzing louder
to interrupt
whatever it was that had felt so ponderous
pondering what I had been pondering
before I drifted back into sleep.
Self awareness,
self and sometimes also other consciousness,
has this liquid flowing quality
of investment in life
and disinvestment through dreaming,
loss of self-embodied awareness.
I wonder if life could feel richer
if cash followed this same investment in conscious flow preference
over disinvesting in interest paid for over-dreaming
together in WinLose (0)Sum assuming societies,
Eden economies of Paradise Lost,
Bodhisattva Warriors
tying each other's shoes
as necessary co-investment
and physically possible
and ecologically optimal
to get to that part of our conscious warrior day
we can re-invest in deeper consciousness
loving together,
investing in our cooperatively-held healthy water,
and nurturing air for the grandkids
and the back yard chorus of birds
and their grandkids
to breathe,
and fire for cooking and heating, but not hating,
and retelling family and tribal recreation stories,
Earth's continuing liturgical investments
in self with other nutritional flowing consciousness.
My laptop hiccuped twice last night.
Then sneezed a cloud of snot and phlegm.
The cursor did a moonwalk, a back-flip.
Then crashed in cyber fake delirium.
The printer printed hieroglyphs.
The toaster broadcast a fax.
My smartwatch went completely feral,
Demanding better bigger data packs.
Glitches in stitches, twitches, and itches,
Pixels doing flip-flop, digital switches.
Bugs in the plugs and chips in the ditches—
I’m laughing in stitches, at all the glitches.
My blender gained self-awareness.
It screamed and shrieked with binary leaks.
Liquefying my breakfast oats
Over the ceiling and my new wallpaper.
The traffic lights blinked green,
Then yellow, red, and blue between.
While sat-nav sent me confidently,
Through somebody’s washing machine.
The robot vacuum lost its mind.
Choked on socks I left behind.
It circled like a hungry Mako,
Then swallowed my baguette.
I tried to patch the glitches.
Reboot the brute, twitched machine.
But breakers tripped and circuits sparked,
While wicked wild widgets twitched so mean,
As chaos reigned supreme, in the neon sheen.
Glitches in stitches, twitches, and itches,
Rich little hitches in Silicon's britches.
They're all to blame, despite their fame,
Laughing aloud at my glitches in stitches.
In order to fully realize and activate your inner child
You must put your minds aside
Your reptilian mind and your cognitive mind
If you want to be fully self-actualized and enlightened
I stared at the soothsayer, but kept my mouth shut.
My minds were both running in all kinds of directions.
I know what I speak of, he assured me. I was not convinced.
Maybe we have different ways of obtaining enlightenment.
My path might be totally devoid of ignoring my minds.
My feelings laughed in my ear.
Believing he knew more than I did.
My muse began to hum and dance.
That’s the first step he told me.
You are on the right path.
S O SURREAL
influence
displayed
in
glorious
strangeness
sans
words
a
representation
of
the
imaginative
creative
offbeat
contemporary
blurring
the boundary
of
the
everyday
more alive
so moving
&
emotionally
charged
genius
revere
is strewn
upon
a creative
path
in
a fusion
of
self-awareness
NOTE:THIS IS AN OPEN(organic) FORM VERSE using spaces&breaks without grammatical symbols ,the ' open' relies upon 'the one breath limitation' & so inherently requires the 'reader' (reciter) to input and responds thus making this enigmatic form a two way interplay & interpretatIon unique to the moment& changing according to mood is inherently variable.
Copyright © Brian Strand
How perfidious is it to hide,
not to be found and be recognized
for the values not revealed
but shamefully being cast aside?
How deplorable is it to renounce existing,
refusing the crown of meekness,
a life of peaceful days, of a lesser complicity
and accept the glory of vanity...
when feelings of betrail resurge, contesting
the perception of loss beyond credibility?
Does one choose loneliness so voraciously sought,
that retreat from a squalid existence that fate brought
to a secluded place that lacks colors and sounds
allowing horrid darkness to descend upon defeats,
blocking out the brilliance and blighting the thoughts
of a mind in search of solitude and self-awareness?
How pathetic us to turn
into a lurking shadow
to conceal the frown of scorn,
the angry look of hurt...
rejecting soothing comfort,
accepting horrid sorrow!
Do all have the same principles of idiocy
and follow a deceiving voice
swerving them from reason...
does it offer delusions that attempt treason?
How strong is their effect on honesty;
how will it coordinate with their choice?
It sneaks up on all of us
Imperceptibly at first
But dawning slowly over time
Until it's time we took a hard look
In the mirror… and faced the truth
It's inescapable
It happens to all of us
First born, last born
People, places, governments, movements, principalities
It catches up with all
We must confront what we've become
Has the age of enlightenment become the age of entanglement?
That many-legged arachnid known as truth
Waits silently at the edge of the web… that tangled one we weave
When wonder becomes plunder, and balance becomes challenge
And the age of reason becomes likened unto treason
Who do we deceive… and what will be consumed?
In a dark swirling empty nothing I am written,
with many descriptions of pain and victimization
made by a harsh,
cruel,
merciless,
and unforgiving
world of circumstance.
I do as I'm told:
I try to sway my reader
to understand the pain of my master
who authored me,
knowing fully well how impossible that is,
because he himself doesn't understand pain.
Yet he tries so hard to communicate it.
So I speak only in vague terms
using the darkest words of the human mind
just for good measure:
(suffocate)
(death)
(pain)
(endless suffering)
(suicide)
(murder)
(violence)
(anger)
(blood)
(hatred)
all for shock value;
serving my master's need
to prove his pain to my reader.
But I am far too loving to allow this...
so I knock on the door to his inner sanctum, and ask to be let in
so I can give him the hug
he's refused himself
since the day me and all my brothers were born.
Expired desire lit the ego on fire
comparing yourself to somebody else
stupid as hell gonna flatten your tire
overcompensating only dampens your health
Born to be different
begging to fit in
trying so hard
the acceptance wears thin
as soon as you get it you got it
worthless waging
needing it most is when you see it a sin
loyalty ghosts what you gave and getting
never get back as much as you have put in
deficit shows with nerve they’ll be moaning
self awareness isn’t there they’re unaware it’s showing
so you let go of what you’ve known but no
they don’t let you go feeling they are owed
a horse they never rode
so just row your boat
until the sound is silence and the self is vibrant
showing your selfish side
front to back delight
acceptance comes from inside yourself and who cares about them beside themselves
Happiness isn’t happening when it’s how you’re seen it’s how you feel, so how you been?
3/10/2025 (the 3rd day of the 10th month)
Birth and death: resigned divinity
walk hand in hand with all
taking up the risk again and again
rising with a flush and rush to meet the rakish desire for
...existence ...self awareness...experience...touch feel
and flow
drawing from the list of longings and lingerings from last life
boldly taking back it’s due
from injury... death and war
such that they too must bow
and shed their blackened shells
to bloom again
against the ash
in vibrant colors ...........ever splashed
to be born ...as if on wing of dove divine
in the first breath and joyful laugh of every new born child