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Written by ALifeWitArt in portal Stream of Consciousness

Furtive Voyeurism

Her intestinal mind was a tapeworm starving for clarity through undigested knowledge. Her demons barked in parables to the transverse shadows draping her room with metaphors. And she poured another shot: stepping to the edge of sanity with her toes curled and eyes closed, oblivion responded with the voice of God. 

Her canvas was always splattered in gold, but it was the red smears and yellow flowers that revealed freedom housed in the negative space. Unlocking life's vault with a skeleton key, she sighed with acceptance and she drew the curtains closed. 

And with the darkness caressing the room like a serpent's tongue, her mind finally grew quiet.

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Written by ALifeWitArt in portal Stream of Consciousness
Furtive Voyeurism
Her intestinal mind was a tapeworm starving for clarity through undigested knowledge. Her demons barked in parables to the transverse shadows draping her room with metaphors. And she poured another shot: stepping to the edge of sanity with her toes curled and eyes closed, oblivion responded with the voice of God. 

Her canvas was always splattered in gold, but it was the red smears and yellow flowers that revealed freedom housed in the negative space. Unlocking life's vault with a skeleton key, she sighed with acceptance and she drew the curtains closed. 

And with the darkness caressing the room like a serpent's tongue, her mind finally grew quiet.
#poetry  #philosophy  #spirituality 
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Written by ALifeWitArt in portal Poetry & Free Verse

Fractals Of Despair

When I was a girl

I kept a make-believe world

In the bottom drawer

Of my yellow nightstand

I arranged finger puppets

With troll-like faces

For when I was lonely

I would open their sky

Pretending that harmony

Was hopefully contagious

I am looking at a plexiglass box. It is sitting on a shelf near my books. It is nestled between my first editions and my favorite authors.

But the walls of its casing are blurry: what resides in the box feels muffled, as though its screams are silenced by a lack of oxygen.

Is it me inside?

Or am I locked out?

Is it me who paces

As I look through the panes of

Bullet-proof glass?

I etched my thoughts with

A backwards alphabet

Because the mirror images reflect

The inverse of my tears

Your face is permanent. It is traced in white against a moonless night. And I soften your gestures with the brush of my lash-line. Your profile is illuminated in my pupils: the darkest points of my eyes hold the silhouette of your shape.

And like two torn paper dolls

They no longer hold hands

In their consequential dimensions

On either side of my mind

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Written by ALifeWitArt in portal Poetry & Free Verse
Fractals Of Despair
When I was a girl
I kept a make-believe world
In the bottom drawer
Of my yellow nightstand
I arranged finger puppets
With troll-like faces
For when I was lonely
I would open their sky
Pretending that harmony
Was hopefully contagious


I am looking at a plexiglass box. It is sitting on a shelf near my books. It is nestled between my first editions and my favorite authors.

But the walls of its casing are blurry: what resides in the box feels muffled, as though its screams are silenced by a lack of oxygen.

Is it me inside?
Or am I locked out?
Is it me who paces
As I look through the panes of
Bullet-proof glass?

I etched my thoughts with
A backwards alphabet
Because the mirror images reflect
The inverse of my tears


Your face is permanent. It is traced in white against a moonless night. And I soften your gestures with the brush of my lash-line. Your profile is illuminated in my pupils: the darkest points of my eyes hold the silhouette of your shape.

And like two torn paper dolls
They no longer hold hands
In their consequential dimensions
On either side of my mind
#poetry  #philosophy  #spirituality 
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Written by ALifeWitArt in portal Stream of Consciousness

We should have

Moved carefully:

We were

Broken refugees, dropped

On war-torn land,

And its Earth was fertilized

By hidden land mines.

In the beginning, we were children playing dress up.

Clumsy and

Sloppy.

Love possessed an Aristophanes' affect, but we controllably hid behind screens in our costumes.

Yet, the longing was dramatic. And it bellowed alto from somewhere deep.

Innate and magnetic.

Two souls masked by old shirts and big-brimmed hats tipped low: we buttoned our collars high until we choked.

Then we struggled to walk in our oversized shoes.

An atom bomb exploded the first time our flesh collided. We were blown back by the impact, and the concussion never faded.

The mushroom cloud of emotional chaos fell slowly like ash. The smoke eventually enveloped us, and we were blinded by tear gas:

Passion.

Unleashed.

And destructive.

We were salivating mad. Rabid and thirsty, we were anemic rodents starving in a desert of vultures. We had scavenged empty scraps and picked our teeth with splintered bones, and we fought an insatiable hunger until we finally lost hope.

But then a feast for infinity was laid between us.

And we

Attacked.

Sans self-control.

Frightened by the extra sense birthed from joint consciousness, we began to stutter and second-guess our intuition. Unintentional and God-given, our eclectic wit of crescent thoughts (fragmented and frayed) became whole and complete.

But the full circle that formed as an effect from our partnership stormed hysterically one day. Ultimately, it took pause, directly in front of the Sun, and we got lost in its eclipse.

Until

the New Moon

Took ahold

Of the sky.

And together, we were reborn.

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Written by ALifeWitArt in portal Stream of Consciousness
We should have
Moved carefully:
We were
Broken refugees, dropped
On war-torn land,
And its Earth was fertilized
By hidden land mines.


In the beginning, we were children playing dress up.

Clumsy and
Sloppy.


Love possessed an Aristophanes' affect, but we controllably hid behind screens in our costumes.

Yet, the longing was dramatic. And it bellowed alto from somewhere deep.

Innate and magnetic
.

Two souls masked by old shirts and big-brimmed hats tipped low: we buttoned our collars high until we choked.

Then we struggled to walk in our oversized shoes.

An atom bomb exploded the first time our flesh collided. We were blown back by the impact, and the concussion never faded.

The mushroom cloud of emotional chaos fell slowly like ash. The smoke eventually enveloped us, and we were blinded by tear gas:

Passion.
Unleashed.

And destructive.


We were salivating mad. Rabid and thirsty, we were anemic rodents starving in a desert of vultures. We had scavenged empty scraps and picked our teeth with splintered bones, and we fought an insatiable hunger until we finally lost hope.

But then a feast for infinity was laid between us.

And we
Attacked.
Sans self-control.


Frightened by the extra sense birthed from joint consciousness, we began to stutter and second-guess our intuition. Unintentional and God-given, our eclectic wit of crescent thoughts (fragmented and frayed) became whole and complete.

But the full circle that formed as an effect from our partnership stormed hysterically one day. Ultimately, it took pause, directly in front of the Sun, and we got lost in its eclipse.

Until
the New Moon
Took ahold
Of the sky
.

And together, we were reborn.
#romance  #poetry  #philosophy  #spirituality 
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Written by ALifeWitArt in portal Stream of Consciousness

the crashing heaves of emotion stay constant and in-motion

Walking along these valleys of lows, I fight my way upward with navigation by stars, like a sailor abandoned at sea. But my lifeboat keeps losing air.

I keep getting distracted as you talk about your day. I am trying to focus on your words, but I am looking at you from across the table and your inner child is palpable tonight.

I can't help but imagine you as a boy, full of hope and mischievous wanderlust. I consider what games you used to play as an only child raised in the country, and whether you created imaginary playmates to play along.

Did you stay outside, nestled by the Southern bluegrass, until the Sun resigned in the evening?

Did your mother serve supper on the porch while the backlight of fireflies and cicada ambiance played?

During the hours closing before bed, did you listen by the fire to stories about the Old South?

Did you feel swaddled-away from the industrial world in your life of antiquity held safely between the Appalachia range?

And the rivers that snaked through your charming vale: did the Earth feel alive, as though exhaling with the oxygen that was carried like blood in its water?

I cried after dinner, and you asked me what was wrong. I shrugged-off the question because I couldn't explain it. It wasn't that I was sad, but, rather, I was so completely moved by you:

And my tears

filled the ocean

with endless love

and inspiration.

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Written by ALifeWitArt in portal Stream of Consciousness
the crashing heaves of emotion stay constant and in-motion
Walking along these valleys of lows, I fight my way upward with navigation by stars, like a sailor abandoned at sea. But my lifeboat keeps losing air.

I keep getting distracted as you talk about your day. I am trying to focus on your words, but I am looking at you from across the table and your inner child is palpable tonight.

I can't help but imagine you as a boy, full of hope and mischievous wanderlust. I consider what games you used to play as an only child raised in the country, and whether you created imaginary playmates to play along.

Did you stay outside, nestled by the Southern bluegrass, until the Sun resigned in the evening?

Did your mother serve supper on the porch while the backlight of fireflies and cicada ambiance played?

During the hours closing before bed, did you listen by the fire to stories about the Old South?

Did you feel swaddled-away from the industrial world in your life of antiquity held safely between the Appalachia range?

And the rivers that snaked through your charming vale: did the Earth feel alive, as though exhaling with the oxygen that was carried like blood in its water?

I cried after dinner, and you asked me what was wrong. I shrugged-off the question because I couldn't explain it. It wasn't that I was sad, but, rather, I was so completely moved by you:

And my tears
filled the ocean
with endless love
and inspiration.
#romance  #poetry  #philosophy  #love  #spirituality  #muse 
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Written by ALifeWitArt in portal Stream of Consciousness

Effects of an Affect

Your embrace is a bubble bath at the perfect temperature, and, when the surface splits, the crystal blue water looks like a natural spring from my childhood. When you share your mind, I am wrapped in white cashmere. Swaddled gently around me are your words dancing with your intellect. Your hands are heated basalt stones. They are flat, smooth, and healing against my knotted flesh. Your eyes are the furthest point of an ocean by sight: they are sunset against the horizon, and your depth appears endless and erotically haunting. I see a rainbow aura pulsing when your heart is joyful. The frequency of you plays strings with a staccato rhythm. And my pulse quickens when you are near: I get high from the oxygen birthed in my blood as it rushes through my body --nourishing every cell.

Love.

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Written by ALifeWitArt in portal Stream of Consciousness
Effects of an Affect
Your embrace is a bubble bath at the perfect temperature, and, when the surface splits, the crystal blue water looks like a natural spring from my childhood. When you share your mind, I am wrapped in white cashmere. Swaddled gently around me are your words dancing with your intellect. Your hands are heated basalt stones. They are flat, smooth, and healing against my knotted flesh. Your eyes are the furthest point of an ocean by sight: they are sunset against the horizon, and your depth appears endless and erotically haunting. I see a rainbow aura pulsing when your heart is joyful. The frequency of you plays strings with a staccato rhythm. And my pulse quickens when you are near: I get high from the oxygen birthed in my blood as it rushes through my body --nourishing every cell.

Love.
#romance  #poetry 
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Written by ALifeWitArt in portal Poetry & Free Verse

Abridged

I miss the romance

The butterflies and

the anticipation

I miss the feeling of ...

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Written by ALifeWitArt in portal Poetry & Free Verse
Abridged
I miss the romance
The butterflies and
the anticipation
I miss the feeling of ...


#romance  #poetry  #philosophy  #incomplete  #icantfindthewords 
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Written by ALifeWitArt in portal Stream of Consciousness

The Eyes of the Locomotive Watched

Scattering like mice, the pellets of their compassionate hearts fell like molten silver:

With Angels

mourning Pain

and forming train tracks

From their tears.

The Sun's rays stretched with exceptionally elongated fingers this morning. The Light cast revealed clarity upon this City of hardened lava and twinkling Faith. And as the worker-bees buzzed, their bodies found balance on ice slippery and melting beneath their worn skates.

Spring emerged and it gave them Strength to keep moving.

The surface greeting of crystals ascending from Heaven glared brightly back against the weakening sadness. Good was illuminated and it bathed the Bad in new Blood born from Water pooling.

And as Humanity cut its figure eight, infinite Hope resounded like a Lion's roar:

It travels one-way

He said

But

They passed

In different directions

Bodies in-motion

Around blind curves and

Stopping

At a railroad crossing formed

From

The heat of Fear

As Time was paused

Enveloping itself

And they took a breath

Cleansing the Past and

Considering the Future

Giving back with

Unconditional love

As the boxcars rocked

And leading them

Towards

A brighter Way

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Written by ALifeWitArt in portal Stream of Consciousness
The Eyes of the Locomotive Watched
Scattering like mice, the pellets of their compassionate hearts fell like molten silver:

With Angels
mourning Pain
and forming train tracks
From their tears
.

The Sun's rays stretched with exceptionally elongated fingers this morning. The Light cast revealed clarity upon this City of hardened lava and twinkling Faith. And as the worker-bees buzzed, their bodies found balance on ice slippery and melting beneath their worn skates.

Spring emerged and it gave them Strength to keep moving.

The surface greeting of crystals ascending from Heaven glared brightly back against the weakening sadness. Good was illuminated and it bathed the Bad in new Blood born from Water pooling.

And as Humanity cut its figure eight, infinite Hope resounded like a Lion's roar:

It travels one-way
He said
But
They passed
In different directions
Bodies in-motion
Around blind curves and
Stopping
At a railroad crossing formed
From
The heat of Fear
As Time was paused
Enveloping itself
And they took a breath
Cleansing the Past and
Considering the Future
Giving back with
Unconditional love
As the boxcars rocked
And leading them
Towards
A brighter Way
#poetry  #philosophy  #spirituality  #culture 
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Written by ALifeWitArt in portal Poetry & Free Verse

unwritten

Breaking bread

They broke bread

Breaking bread.

Words that echo

Playing ping pong in --

My head is full as

I seek its clarity ...

Breaking bread,

Breaking bread.

A message sought

Or

A message delivered.

With meaning, it --

Companionship.

they giveth what

they themselves

are starving for.

Breaking bread.

Camaraderie.

Kinship.

Brotherhood.

"tu sei la mia famiglia"

To share a meal

by "breaking bread."

No more secrets

Devouring a wall

With its heart of Truth.

The hearth.

A stove.

An oven.

The kitchen table.

Breaking bread.

The centerpiece:

We broke bread, and --

Let your guard down:

Crust, hardened

A soul, soft --

Andkneaded by God.

A family.

A race.

A culture.

Humanity --

Impoverished,

but blessed

With the gift of bread.

Breaking it.

They share.

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Written by ALifeWitArt in portal Poetry & Free Verse
unwritten
Breaking bread
They broke bread
Breaking bread.

Words that echo
Playing ping pong in --

My head is full as
I seek its clarity ...

Breaking bread,
Breaking bread.


A message sought
Or
A message delivered.
With meaning, it --

Companionship.

they giveth what
they themselves
are starving for.


Breaking bread.

Camaraderie.
Kinship.
Brotherhood.

"tu sei la mia famiglia"

To share a meal
by "breaking bread."

No more secrets
Devouring a wall
With its heart of Truth.

The hearth.

A stove.
An oven.
The kitchen table.

Breaking bread.

The centerpiece:
We broke bread, and --

Let your guard down:
Crust, hardened
A soul, soft --

Andkneaded by God.

A family.
A race.
A culture.
Humanity --

Impoverished,
but blessed
With the gift of bread.

Breaking it.

They share.
#poetry  #philosophy  #spirituality  #culture 
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Written by ALifeWitArt in portal Poetry & Free Verse

Innate Resolve

Beautiful is

The way he laughs

Hesitantly, as

It ascends from his gut

With pangs of

Willingness

Reserved and fleeting

Like plaster cracking

At the perfect pitch

So sweetly does

The sound of his joy

Melt my heart

For with compassion

I witness his hope

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Written by ALifeWitArt in portal Poetry & Free Verse
Innate Resolve
Beautiful is
The way he laughs
Hesitantly, as
It ascends from his gut
With pangs of
Willingness
Reserved and fleeting
Like plaster cracking
At the perfect pitch
So sweetly does
The sound of his joy
Melt my heart
For with compassion
I witness his hope
#romance  #poetry  #philosophy  #spirituality  #humancondition 
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Written by ALifeWitArt in portal Stream of Consciousness

the setting sun dried the land with fire

just days before

the air was thick

palpably ripe

and hovering

like a water balloon

ready to break

Rain fell gently upon the face of that Southern home. The hungry mouths of surrounding nature gathered, opening their petals with bulbs bloomed and gazing upward. It was a slow motion forgiveness, and the virgin bath of angels washed-over its veiled paradisal limestone. Rainbow prisms ignited in the drops pooling at the feet of their stems. And the aged lace of the dwelling burned holy: its cotton awnings christened by the blood of those who had suffered were drawn open and ready. It was as though the sky had collected all of the sadness in its ceramic bowl atmosphere, churning history into new tears of joy. And the broken occupants surrendered their fear, as the clouds wrung God's gut dry and anemic for their benefit. A new beginning was birthed before sunset, giving strength to the weak.

And as the headmaster collected the wet wisdom in his mason jars lined up under their roof, mercy was granted with the sound of water. Peace was brought to the land, and the angst of humanity became nothing but a passing storm.

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Written by ALifeWitArt in portal Stream of Consciousness
the setting sun dried the land with fire
just days before
the air was thick
palpably ripe
and hovering
like a water balloon
ready to break


Rain fell gently upon the face of that Southern home. The hungry mouths of surrounding nature gathered, opening their petals with bulbs bloomed and gazing upward. It was a slow motion forgiveness, and the virgin bath of angels washed-over its veiled paradisal limestone. Rainbow prisms ignited in the drops pooling at the feet of their stems. And the aged lace of the dwelling burned holy: its cotton awnings christened by the blood of those who had suffered were drawn open and ready. It was as though the sky had collected all of the sadness in its ceramic bowl atmosphere, churning history into new tears of joy. And the broken occupants surrendered their fear, as the clouds wrung God's gut dry and anemic for their benefit. A new beginning was birthed before sunset, giving strength to the weak.

And as the headmaster collected the wet wisdom in his mason jars lined up under their roof, mercy was granted with the sound of water. Peace was brought to the land, and the angst of humanity became nothing but a passing storm.
#poetry  #philosophy  #spirituality  #culture  #humanity 
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