Open Poetry #38 |
hello oranges |
themute Member
since 2006-05-08
Posts 469Maryland |
I am slowly loosing grips upon which things were making sense No longer do the senses make a sense to me inside my mind I am not who I am as whom I was before But a falsehood and a trick that this trickster fools my eyes With all the false realities that make this universe I see With every feeling and each second pass me by I sense the senses are but lies that false existence realized Now so my mind is not but nil and nor my senses or my time I am not a one a being in a bed of senses but an idea in ones head Non-existent and not ready to be made from nonsense upon this world is founded If I be a thinker when thoughts are not a thing Then let those gasps of clinging reach a ledge from which I stand Hope to never fall again and hope to find a way to top the mountain A search for perfect expression of the mind I’m losing Fingers stopping if there is such a thing I am the two-toed wanderer |
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© Copyright 2006 Matthew Patrick Holbert - All Rights Reserved | |||
Margherita Member Seraphic
since 2003-02-08
Posts 22236Eternity |
Your mind works just fine I would say. "To be or not to be ...". Your philosophical ponderings are well expressed. Love, Margherita |
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Midnitesun
since 2001-05-18
Posts 28647Gaia |
relax enjoy the journey the pathway is meandering even the huge boulders are climbable it matters not if you reach someone else's peak |
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