Long Unconsciously Poems
Long Unconsciously Poems. Below are the most popular long Unconsciously by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Unconsciously poems by poem length and keyword.
Beset by boredom of mind I ponder the
illusion of I
Conceptually I doesn't exist but this fact
is hidden from eyes
I is an illusion of minds similar to lakes
in a desert
A mirage comes in the form of delusions
of a self never measured
One with all in which we are measured if it
weren't for I in the middle
We unconsciously took on this persona
now we find ourselves in a riddle
I isn't the center of things but it finds itself
at the core
Who planted this apple of eyes inside our
minds corridor?
Closer than one's paramour it elicits secrets
to hide
In reality it's illicit by nature but we go
along for the ride
Next time I comes around ask from where
it has come
If you stop to study its acts you'll see an
enemy of one
The
human sperm cell is haploid, so that its 23 chromosomes can join the 23 chromosomes of the female egg to form a diploid cell with 46 paired chromosomes.
he bulk of our mind's contents is found in the unconscious.uns
The Gatekeeper of unconscious and of the conscious mind is the Subconscious,
Preconscious, the murky
the unconscious the mind undercover, the conscious the deliberate, the discovery of each is once again the big bang.
The sperm meets the egg and The bang of a life is created.
The life within the vessel survives on the murky, the clear amniotic fluid feeds the life, unconsciously feeding the unseen thoughts of the vessel, the delivery is where the conscious mind is slightly awaken, some our brought in pleasing serene environments, others are awaken by a slap in the buttocks with a violent twirl to cold hands, the conscious mind knocks out, the unconscious resides for safe keeping. The big bang ride begins
Water cascaded across her brow
And dripped unto his lips
And her words held a vow
Dug in his hands in her hips
As they pranced around
He supported her lift
So she wouldn’t drown
Their movements were swift
She leapt away in a blur
And he traveled unconsciously
Towards her words that slur
And speak her love honestly
His arms trap in her waist
Her hand trace the ground while dipped
Then her lips traveled for a taste
He realized she had him whipped
Then they were pulled apart by hands
That seemed to pull them out of their trance
The space between them expands
Ruins their memorized dance
But surely that’s no challenge for true love
He finds her in his arms once more
But then he transforms to the world above
She lost the man she once did adore
Today we are…
by Odin Roark
The weapons of indifference
Unconsciously remote controlling
Weapons of terror
We are the children
With raised arms above our heads
We are the miscreants whose weapons
Remain pointed at the children of
Raised arms above their heads
As boots on the ground
And drones on high take aim
We are the TV watchers with lowered gaze
Unable to fathom the depraved whose
Weapons hold steady on the children
Whose arms are weakening from holding
High their innocent arms that
Tremble with frozen moments of terror’s end
The silence that will soon be shattered
By the villain whose finger also tires
Of holding destiny by a trigger pull
And all the while…
We watch the tube
As cameramen capture the waiting sadness
To provide more watching as
We decide
Popcorn buttered
Or
A stiff pull
On the flask of artificial patience
Oh the challenge…
CNN or twitter feed
Fox exploitation or
BBC’s stiff upper lip
After all
We are safe
Right?
For now
We can party later tonight
And tomorrow
We’ll so easily become…
Addiction is the compensation for something lost in childhood. You are not addicted to the substance or the thing, but it's a release from the trauma that you compensated with the substance and the addiction those feelings bring What’s crazy is
Most of our lives depend on blind faith
I was given some wise words of wisdom one time in therapy. He said, "You go to sleep with the unconscious faith that in the morning your eyes will open to see a new day." I paused and replied, "Holy crap its true!",
that means we all actually have faith built in even when we doubt we do. Even in doubt, you still have faith every minute of the day with every breath you anticipate that it will oxygenate, moving carbon dioxide from your blood to your lungs. This process is blind faith, aka body’s gas exchange Crazy right to think you’ve been searching for faith, and you have had it all along So when addiction steps in
That faith is skewed or barely hanging on So blame your parents. Just kidding they knew nothing more than what they were taught and what their eyes perceived in their own environment endured, which was full of fear, sadness and anger that unconsciously transferred to us the unaware and new baby who one day too, would be an adult now with trauma and fears without reason until they realize the reason was you. We only seen the aftereffects our caretakers were subjected to due to their upbringing where they learned to neglect, blame and shame not from their own wants but their surroundings, they too were emotionally enslaved and so on before them and all their generations passed too. This is how their trauma affects you. Addiction starts compensating for something lacking, masking an unhealed wound Pain that was never meant for a child to go through or bear painful feelings that don’t belong to you
(My Persian rug, 2024)
A Painful Journey
I live a quiet and isolated life
But it’s been one of great adventure
That leaves me now a bit worn out
Although satisfied and fulfilled
Is probably how I should describe it,
For I’m happy with its twists and turns
Even though I know deep down
Before I can even remember
There is a loss that has flavored everything since
Leaving it’s triggers below the surface
Like an old thorn or splinter
Now part of me, unable to extract.
Today I received an old Persian rug
Remarkable in so many ways
From design and execution
To quality of wool and dyes
And it’s even more subtle and poignant story.
Taken from Vienna during the 30’s
As a valued possession small enough
To make the passage to America,
At a time when so much was left behind
And at least something needed to remain
To connect an uncertain future
With a past that could never be again,
It spoke to me
Through my eyes and fingers
Unconsciously taking in the markers of value
Of all those delicate knots, tied so long before
So far away
Each holding their own story
A million fibers
Absorbing all the years between
To make it to my doorstep
A long adventurous and painful journey
Like a handful of gems
Sewn into the hem of an old man’s coat
Across the seas, out of one context
Into another and then another
Sustaining something unmentionable
Yet not forgotten.
To land at last in my hands
And touch me like a shadow
Of a journey I have also known
Touched and changed
Broken and made whole again
Over and over
Life after life
Name after name
A story, the same old story,
We all know
In the secret private space of our hearts.
The beauty of Life
Is how it connects
And how even when we feel it isn’t
It can never ever disconnect.
Rugs in all their useful beauty
Show us this
Inviting us to lay and feel
Something that needs no words
To complete.
(11/21/24)
Dream clouds hide nightmarish rain
The awakening sun comes out and you’re never the same
You wipe the sand from your sleepy eye
Are you awake or unconsciously floating by
The feeling is gone as you pinch yourself to see
You yawn stretch and you lids are getting heavy
You slap your face but there is no pain
Now there’s a question but no answer to gain
You’re the only one around and that sets me free
Happiness and truth let me be who I want to be
Love surrounds me and I don’t have a care
I need nothing at all just you there
But it seems to perfect in a fantasy way
I don’t care I just want one more day
The colors seem to fade as you wave goodbye
Then the sunrise shines on me and I open my eye
I sit up startled and realize my mind lied
Devastated and tried I broke down and cried
Longing for my love and my best friend
Knowing full well I’ll never sleep again
Santa Claus is coming.
This isn’t a luck situation.
He knows things, like if you’re sleeping.
Which is kind of creepy if you think about it.
I suppose I’m an open book.
It’s an implacable reality.
oops, better rhyme something.. let’s see..
“Santa, that elf commanda
will bring you all a panda
fresh from the jungles of Uganda
straight to your verandah”
Whew.. art is hard work.
Leeza has a small aluminum-tinsel Christmas tree in her room with a new-age LED-star topper. It slowly prisms through the color spectrum, breaking down light, like modern jazz. Small things can still enchant, if you’re open.
I was sipping dark-chocolate coffee while Lisa rearranged the ornaments on the tree - again (as head-elf, the tree is her purview). She was humming to herself unconsciously as she worked, like a finch in a beautifully lit, evergreen garden. There was no real melody to it, it was just happiness.
Peter (my bf) is here, he arrived last night - we’re workshopping instant gratification.
Even if things have been tough - I hope you have a joyous holiday - that you chose it, like an option in an app. Nothing’s sweeter than the bruised joy of someone who’s known sorrow.
Merry Christmas Everyone!
.
.
**CORRECTION: Pandas live in a few mountain provinces of south central China.
Returning back to previous state would be a dream if I were a butterfly, with wings that could carry me far away. From the beginning point where anguish became my cape, unable to fly, too heavy was my hearts weight. I got stuck, I couldn’t move. I was forced to face the cocoons dark space. It was time with no face before I broke free and shed the comfort that restored me. Or so I thought, but the want for restoration is the first box to check off. There are many exits and check points along the way. Despair waits like a stop sign at an all 4 way. Sometimes you hang there a little too long, you slowly forget that you can choose to move on. You get comfortable with everything going wrong, so you unconsciously manifest it all to prolong. Preventing the freedom, you once blocked yourself from. The one you convinced yourself you didn’t deserve because you made an internal agreement, that was never actually yours. You have and always had the ability to decide which way to go, which weighted belief to hold onto and which to toss aside. Like the caterpillar shedding its chrysalis, who shelters it through the changes for many nights until the last stage of histogenesis the process where the body reorganizes its Insides. It doesn’t ever return back to its previous state but after the hard transition a beautiful butterfly will take its place.
I went to the shadchan
I listed what my wife should be
a pretty, funny, caring woman
But the shadchan laid it out for me:
"The type of woman who would look your way
Would be nearsighted, poor, a career missed
I have to be blunt, or I would betray
I've been around, trust me on this."
"You see, the mind is a computer"
"Sometimes unconsciously, factors get combined
Women do the math of what they want in a suitor
And you, poor shmuck, are not considered a find."
I was bitter, so I said, "they just smell cash"
But she replied, "you hypocrite, you're the same
"You want glamour, humor, and a dowry stash
That's how we all play that game."
"Men go for women who seem attainable
"Shared interests, smarts, or admiration
"The ratio of genders must be favorable.
If you select by race, add that to the equation."
"It's not that I want to be mean
"But beauty is signposts to evolution's goal
"A brain is designed to reproduce a gene
Even if infatuation grabs your soul."
So she found me a compatible mate
from a war-torn land far away
The lady was older, and overweight
And she denied that she was gay.
We went down that aisle, and tied the knot
But then I met a beauty at the car dealership
She was like a panther that the zoo forgot
She was funny, smart, my commitment flipped.
I was going to divorce my wife, this computation stuff was crap
When I was with this new girl, I felt like ten out of ten
Until one day I found her with a tinfoil cap
She was insane, believed in little green men.
You can't escape the computation
No matter how hard you try
Know your limits, your life station
That way, you won't have to cry.