Loser
Me. No mistake,
Exhibit 1.
Missed the train,
Missed the opportunity.
Too late to fix,
Too late to apologize.
A day late, and a credit card short.
Shorts hoisted too high
or drooping down,
But never sitting well.
Fixating on things
that don’t matter,
Neglecting what does.
It’s not like i mean to do it,
But my standards are just so low.
Maybe I’ll go camping,
Serve myself up to a grizzly,
The way things used
To sort themselves out.
But I’m such a loser,
The bear will feel it, and avoid
The greasy taste it will leave in his mouth.
Am I the human aquivelent
Of a stinkbeetle?
Could there be a purpose to all this?
An advantage that i can’t see?
Probably not.
Only a loser will think like that.
Maybe I’ll get political..
A lost Existence
My mind, if you can call it that, or.. I guess, If I can call it that?
It's dancing like tango with out a partner..
Not throbbing more floating.. Twisting, divided, impaired..
Am I intact? Or formless, but I think well enough..
Even, I contemplate being evenly apart; disjointed but, no joints to speak..
My mind rests on the word joint, and a cacophony rushes in my mind rebounding the words of thought Pot-Plant-Canibus-Bus-Sub-Bun-Sun-Star-Moon-Night..
ughngh..
I feel like a figment, is this what an Imaginarium is..
Raw thoughts becoming like a feeling; or... where I am, .. am I?
am I but a shadow, or not?
I see a bright emptiness, well sort of..
It's more like A outstretched whiteness. A box expanding and contracting like a breath, & in the second I think that I see a square room.
The room becomes a circle.
Then If I think the room is like a circle, then it forms back into a cube likeness, but different.
This time a trapezoid
no a cone..
But the feeling that time does not exist lingers.. Do I exist? Am I?.. another cacaophony forms in my mind.. I.. I-Eye-Sight-see-blind
I visualize down, I feel a etching a tablet, of paper? It is smooth with embossed rough textures, I scan over it in my mind.
Words form not as cognition exactly, but a feeling of omission & warning. The feeling becomes stronger, powerful even.. A wholeness of revocation's with name's that even word's have forgotten.
Unknowns, all as if screaming a angry letter.
My mind throbs.. I feel the impact of the transmission.
I Have been... BannedRevokedDevoidOmitedDisallowedAdmittedReposed..
ArgghhHhh My mind!!. So-o many names & symbols; so much invalidation all pointing to remiss and me..
What did I do... .. … What was the Cause.. Effect-Motion-Reason-Place-Person-Thing.. ..
Candles.. Plasma Light-nignngh
*!*
I,.. I was a scientist..
I delved into the study of polarity.
Not polarity like a fraction of electric and thermionic reactions.. no, I mean deeper.
I mean, the dissection of the root of morality as a energy that grants choice.
The sense beyond senses, beyond the sapience; behind the psychology & the ID & the EGO.
Not formulations of cause and effect; but the frames of dimensional choices itself in itself.
The existence, of choice..
I was working with water fire and the iron in plasma.., some of the steps more vague than the rest..,
perhaps I am limiting my own self from the folly of finding such a predicament.. the rest I recall of the experiment is a current runs through, then a shifting and merging of electromagnetism etcetera...
Ugnh.. My pain is less than before, perhaps I am adapting to this stasis..
A set of syntheses, I had been working on at the time.
A gate..
A gate.. An electrified vortex from bending the fabric into inverted subspace perforates into itself, like some proverbial Alice's rabbit hole..
and being the sole soul I am..
I went through and throughout wonderland.
In a sense, I went and I saw God or perhaps the reflection..
The web of all, the Hive, the infinite outstretched possible; form and reform.
I can only describe it like Tesla himself has said about the storm's he had meditated to in the Hotel on a stormy night..
Talking of the sounds and voices in the lightning and thunder itself, as if speaking in plasma is a reality of the divide of being and not being.
Where All forms flowing, blood, water, fire, sand, lava, all moving with out temperature's. Where energy is not sacrificed, and survival is not dependent on physical interactions.. Like some eternally expanding husk pulsating, & it undulates the only madness, found in H.P Lovecraft.
Here not as a being of benign or beguiled sanity.
But the linear infinite realm of mind's creating & building paths & paths yet built; which is the insanity, the genius, the Anima the Animus, the creature's, the living the dead, the path the lost; the dream.
The encompassed,.. & The engulfed..
I crossed into this realm, & the door; if you can call it that..
had shut..
My body now a figment of my own complexes..
Where everything I knew, had gained No meanings..
Here lies the truths and the lies as one;
where good and evil are nothing but a creature's nature's.
And a reaction of beast's, is the same as mankind's; a creature one in the same.
I stepped into the bend of all choices formed and reformed, and I thought in a realm of supercomplexities.
My one mistake..
To think that I.. Did not exist, in a place where existence was everything and nothing at the same time.
And all I did.., and what I did..
was think in a foolish Egotism.
..I had planned to write my findings in a book.
For when when I figure a way back, & as any researcher would do. So I wrote In my mind for later notation use.. and so.
Mental note: “I have been banned from existence; from what I mean is, what I have learned in this event. I am about to recall and describe which I found, It will not make sense because sense is a conflagration here. Where what we think to know, we have yet to know. And what I have seen, has undone every perplexing sense that we thought we knew of. And beyond sentience where sapience lies, is a electric reaction of the minds-eye, to the brain's body. Of what I and we feel; Is.. No longer knowledge has meaning; but wisdom to what plane we think is; is but a endless whiteness shapeless shaping canvas empty and whole. A room filled of nothing we ever thought we knew..
..How Ironic that Karma would play myself as my own God, upon a foolish wish of recognition..
I myself willed this paper.
This complex room of inverted wish's..
I thought I knew, and now I know nothing of what I Had known before.
Now, until I thought I knew.
I only recall what I had known is meaningless.
The end
I was in love with us not you
I know we would have been perfect together and u knew it too.
I knew you had faults and you knew every single one of mine
but I waited too long
I waited until u talked yourself out of loving me
so much that you stated to believe that my faults were what defined me.
And now u look to another and to her your love is abundant ,
And you have no idea how much it hurts me .
so I had to move on, at least I tried but no one came close to being you .
No one made my knees week with that crooked smile only u have,
And no one made me laugh as loud.
It hurts to know how close we were,
To having everything we dreamed of or a least I did
So, I want you to know I gave my all but but I don't think u gave up anything
And it's not fair that I'm the one who wakes up randomly crying because I miss what we should have been
I was dumb but I can't apologise for loving you the way I did because it made me grow and understand things that I couldn't have before.
The Last Days of School
Entering the final lap of school, the last stretch before graduating
And that is what these days feel like in actuality like a burden that reverberating
Although for seven years this twilight that we’ve been slowly creating, with baited breath we are now anticipating
As our time here starts terminating, we suffer from bouts of Senioritis and become more irritating
After years of intensive educating, here come our opportunity for matriculating
We become weary of all schoolwork that we subsequently start hating but don’t read too deeply into our remonstrating
The thought of finally moving on with our lives seems so liberating
As emerging from the turbulent time as teenagers and now into young adults we’re germinating
Whether or not we are actually ready for assimilating into the real world we’re still debating
Some of us are reminiscing on our fond memories here and evaluating how these friendships they could ever be recreating
We would like to thank all those who helped us in levitating to the high standards that we are now expected to be demonstrating
The wise words of all our teachers of past and present, we will be continually contemplating
Because they deservedly earned non-stop congratulating for the wisdom found in us that they have and still are inculcating
As we bid our farewells and say our goodbyes, on the good and bad times we had we will be meditating
And thanking God for his grace and mercy and for past 7 years at this noble institution we will be appreciating
Political Football
If you turn this into a game of political football count me out
What about our creed or does it no longer forms the truth
Never thought you would go the match-fixing route
In cahoots with illegitimate agents, what was that all about?
After I played my position as your defender so well till I think that it’s such a shame
That I have been left back, right back into the game
Looked back on the instant replay what you did was tantamount to foul play
Since that ain’t my style of play I’m handing in my Transfer request
As soon as a window of opportunity opens no time wasting or delay
Coach will sub me out the game because coach knows best
Because he can see that if you don’t take heed there will soon be Poetic Justice
Once there is time there is a chance of comeback with Hope as the catalyst
You most know that time outruns all men and is the great equalizer in summary
You may escape judgement now but you won’t sidestep the Ultimate referee
Even though the playing field may not be level, remember that the ball is round
Continue giving us the run around because it’s your playing time on count down
You will be booked for your attempted stimulation of tricks and antics
Grave action will be taken as your scheming game plan was extremely drastic
A Little Bit Fresher
Good Afternoon Fellow Writers & Readers;
As you may have noticed (or will soon notice) the Prose web app has undergone a bit of a cosmetic update. Hopefully nothing will be too jarring. Our goal with this update, along with the obligatory under-the-hood performance enhancements, was to simplify. We wanted to simplify the user interface of the website, make navigation easier and more intuitive, and apply a more consistent design language across the entire site. Further, we wanted to make better use of space, both for desktop and mobile users.
Like any software update, this one will likely give rise to a bug or two. Please let us know if you encounter any bugs by commenting on this post, tagging us in comments, or shooting us an email. We hope you enjoy the update, and find the whole Prose experience just a little bit fresher.
Happy Writes.
Resemblance of life
A game of poker, resemblance of life.
With victories, with hardship;gambling
A game of spade a game of truce,
Of memories like nine of flower.
For beauty that nine of diamond.
For treasurable moments
A heart full of love to forget to forgive.
And that of spade to burry the bad luck.
A 1000 miles,
A 1000 miles,
Form the light of good,
In dept of desire,
To a hundred yards of black.
By the wisdom of experience,
Shall I inform you that,
A burning sensation of volcanic; passion.
In the ocean of want; depth of lost
A feeling so raw all I did was take,
From the fifteens to fifth of 50s,
A blanket on that soul of blackness,
Forever goodbye, like 2015.
New race with rouge; wilderness,
A lone wolf, the desire to explore,
Bonds the heart and mind.
No joker this time,
For the hour clock long stopped,
The branches of black strengthen
By the power of midnight.
And forever shall it be goodbye 15
Hesitation was once upon a time,
Addiction is my new happy ending,
My thirst, my thirst I can't quench,
Who started it all?
Sensational to an orgasm so raw,
Climaxing all I do is beg,
For superiority,
For power,
For mercy,
For mercy I do not need,
Who started It all? I shall once again ask.
My want my dearest adventure,
My want my greatest fear,
My want my most treasured gift,
For I inhale lust, for I exhale want,
For I smile sinuous,
Yet I eat off that plate of my hunger,
Form this mild quake,
From this garden of passion,
Did she discover she,
A new subject the master thought,
"Dear, dear, you shall accept, you shall embrace!"
For better for worse an oath I vowed,
For better for worse indeed it shall always be.