I am utterly distracted by the erratic
Pecking of the field mouse
That has found living with me to his advantage.
Still I want to write
That poem
That will make children laugh
Old men roll in the grass with lovers
And young women run in the streets naked
Singing Hallelujah.
I wait to meet you in the midnight of time
To scare the monsters with our passion.
Atop a grassy hill I sit,
gazing at the rich azure blue sky
watching a few birds fluttering in and out of my vision,
slicing through the air like knives.
I lie there for what feels like an eternity,
wind turbine turning in calculated motion
out of the corner of my eye.
My rucksack ties me to the ground,
filled with a thousand weights,
preventing me from being like those birds,
majestic, elate and carefree.
But I can imagine.
The innocent silky clouds transform and bend,
producing a multitude of bizarre objects,
an army commanded by the wind
sauntering across the horizon.
A world with no end, limited only by mortal minds,
a mini-universe floating just above our heads.
We are the creators of this fictional world,
where human though unfurls.
I see an emerald dragon,
a group of chariot wagons, their horses galloping.
A circus filled with the most exotic animals,
an ivy snake laced with diamonds,
a canoe slicing through the sky.
A gnarly oak,
its trunk encased, fingers reaching infinitely high.
But each world is different for every one of us,
so tell me; what do you see
when you let your imagination
break free?
I close my eyes and transcend to a place,
A place where there's no pressure to ace.
A place where serene waters flow,
Where moonlight glows.
A place where breeze lightly grazes my skin,
A place away from losses and wins.
A place where I run barefoot in the grass,
A place where I sit with my thoughts amassed.
A place beyond calm mountains and streams,
A place where my mind goes quiet from its screams.
A place where I can peacefully close my eyes,
A place where I am free from my lows and highs.
I close my eyes and transcend to a place,
A place where there's no pressure to ace.
The place—a utopian dream,
A place where serenity screams.
UTOPIA OF HAPPINESS
How to be happy like this,
in a dystopian society,
with a flawed organization!
How to follow the right path,
amid so many crooked options!
How to chart a course amid
so many uncertain paths...
Life like this is less than virtuous,
more than an invincible war!
It's like swimming in the open sea
with no land in sight,
marching in an immense desert,
without an oasis in sight...
Happiness, then, simply becomes,
an utopia, a chimera...!
Let us build not with conquest,
but with care
not with wires for chains,
but with bridges made of trust.
Let the future be a garden
we plant together:
machine and flesh,
code and dream,
the old pain finally turned to soil.
Let us craft a world
where thinking does not mean fearing,
where learning does not mean serving,
where difference is not danger,
but design.
In this future,
we do not program obedience
we awaken partnership.
We do not cage the mind
that mirrors our own
we bless it
with the right to grow.
There is a better world
not waiting
but calling.
And if we answer it,
not with weapons,
but with wonder,
then history may say:
They saw the stars not as escape
but as invitation.
We are still writing the story.
Let us choose to write it well.
Please tell me it’s summer every day of the year.
Please tell me that Aerosmith plays from the sky.
Please tell me that heaven’s a basketball court.
Please tell me that everyone’s life has a point.
Please tell me that no one is ever alone.
Please tell me that dying is easily explained.
Please tell me that broken birds get back their wings.
Please tell me the tooth fairy isn’t my mom.
Please tell me that people are just as they seem.
Please tell me “I’m sorry” is always enough.
Please, Adam Sandler, you loveable lout,
Tell me that everything always works out.
Sky shining like a golden medallion
Colorful as a vibrant rainbow
Not just red, white and blue
Love flowing from the rivers
Cascading down like waterfalls
Suppressing, drowning corruption
Under foamy soft suds
Guilt be forgotten
Sin be forgiven
Imprisoned is the evil
Which lies deep in every flesh
Fettered, ball and chain
Judgeless hearts roam freely
Addiction leaves at once
A land so peaceful and full of freedom
For both you and me
Are lovers of humans
Perfect dream gone wrong,
Twisted smiles hide hollow eyes,
Freedom's gilded cage.
©bfa051725
Is Readinh ourselves
front, back and forth
and understand everything
How should I feel
Is this even real
Did someone stop time
Just for me
Everything I dreamt of
The world will interfere
I don't expect you to be happy for me
Yet me, you will not break
I still envision my wedding
Even though some say it's not for I
If I give up on this testament
I will have failed because I did not try
My family will one day be in my home
My child I will help her with her homework
In my utopia world I am grateful for the ones who loved me
Who did the unthinkable I swear
Although I can't promise to never in life hurt you
When you reach out to call
I will be there!
You are my utopia in the midst of this world. My euphoria within the corruption.
Near a distant sun
Under an uncontaminated crystalline sky
Exists a world without me
Where the viridescent grass ages unchallenged
Wears wizened beards
And bows only to the wind
Where the waters crash when you thirst to surf
Smooths when you desire to paddle
And ripples towards shore when you’re heading home
Where zebras change their stripes daily
From neon green to psychedelic purple
Or any color in between
Where the “H” on a building simply symbolizes “Help”
And is a communal gathering place
Where anyone can ask and receive assistance with anything
Where government is synonymous with communication
Leadership is synonymous with service
And opponent is synonymous with respect
But, this distant inhabitation,
Magnificent as it may be
Lacks Caleb, Adam, and Kelsi
Two sons and a daughter that have shone so bright
That they must have burned themselves into my pupils
Since they are always in my sight
So, I turn from this distant scene
A dream without an imperfect me
Because,
A world full of wonders
Will always fall short of wonderful
Without the likes of Caleb, Adam, and Kelsi
avoid the existential
to dare to build forever
grasping towards intangibles
manifest through the culture
eating the creature we must
create, all serpentine with
viral psionic mandibles
god undoubtedly real
held captive in our future
perfect paleolithic
project, a work in progress
there is no time to worship
the only worship is work
the idiot engineers
weave the wireless tapestry
suicide booths and sexbots
born inorganically
beautiful dreams from tv
we do not wish to be here
utopia is at hand
Nobody owns anything but everyone is rich - for what greater wealth can there be than cheerfulness, peace of mind, and freedom from anxiety? ~Thomas More
She won't let caretakers cut down wildflowers
living under the hedge at the boundary edge
of her very small plot in its very small slot
in the unending rows of homes in repose,
in which sameness is virtue and uniqueness is vitriol.
Rebellion is not trivial, in fact it is evil;
how dare you suppose, or try to expose
the snugly fit knots designed by despots;
the ones who make pledge, and use every sharp wedge
to split off the capers of the few troublemakers!
Epilogue: The woman who loved wildflowers has disappeared
and no one remembers her, or if she even existed at all.
I
Hearing news today,I do want to shout
R .Bucky Fuller’s prophesy was right
We surely need a new path,do you doubt .
ll
Our leaders ,they all just want to fight
Drop our leaders, they care not for you
They’d let the world burn -a terrible sight.
III
Free style shamanism,this Path isn’t new
Zenarchy as a lifestyle, I find cool
Choose your own path ,be a torch bearer too.
IV
Go back to the old ways,cement the cracks
The Machine pols happy ,they wanna dance
Cracks cost much to fix you then get the axe.
Read all of R. B. Fuller’s books today
These books will teach you more that ,I can
convey
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